In a world seemingly locked in endless debate over potato vs. potahto, sometimes I feel like I’m the only one calling a spud a badubbadubba.(*)
– Robert Alan
(*) ba*dubba*dubba, noun, plural ba*dubba*dubbas
1. Informal. A childhood word for potato once used by my brother.
The good news is that I’m feeling better today.
The bad news is that in hindsight it’s clear to me that yesterday’s post would have been funnier if I’d said “sitting at a green light waiting for it to turn greener.”
I really was out of it yesterday.
Yesterday I went with a favorite quote of mine as an entry because it was a particularly busy day for me.
Today I’m keeping it brief because I’m not feeling 100%.
This became undeniable once I realized while on an early morning errand with the roads thankfully empty behind me that I was sitting at a green light waiting for it to turn green.
So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed . . . again.
Let me never fall into the vulgar mistake of dreaming that I am persecuted whenever I am contradicted.
Now that the storm has passed, I would be remiss if I didn’t take a moment to mark the passing of Neil Armstrong, first human to set foot upon the Moon.
This candle’s for you, Neil.
At this point in time the first “headed our way” storm of this hurricane season, Isaac, is almost upon us. We’re comfortably settled in to wait it out, but I thought I’d make a quick note here in case we get a power outage that precludes me from updating on schedule tomorrow.
Talk to you soon.
With a workable schedule now finally under my belt, it’s time to push that schedule to new limits.
This is not a good thing . . . but it is a necessary thing.
Increased chance to work also equals increased need for a comfortable and private space to work in, and I have been simply doing without at least one of those things since it became necessary to shove everything out of my old study to turn it into the nursery. (Something I did happily, by the way, son.)
So under the theory that I’ve used before that this news isn’t interesting, but it will help keep me on track and honest by saying it publicly, my goal is to turn the “storeroom” into a usable room again by no later than October 1st.
Wish me luck.
“He sounds like a Bu when he talks like that!” Lala observed of Bu the other day.
This seemed rather obvious to me . . . a little too obvious, so I gave her a funny look that prompted her to clarify:
“I mean he always sounds like a Bu; what I meant is he sounds like ABU!”
Abbott and Costello would have been proud.
One of the aspects of fatherhood that nobody ever talks about is how sooner or later your toddler will do their best to step on the portion of your anatomy that is least designed to be load bearing . . . and then try to dance.
As I’ve said on numerous occasions, nothing about me makes me a morning person; try to talk to me about a beautiful sunrise, and I’ll tell you I’ll catch the second showing in the evening.
But with that said, there is something to be said for being awake enough to be the first customer through the door at the bakery and having first shot at the pastries.
Candles & Curses 