There may be some things that I wouldn't miss

There are many things to love about Mr. Logo. His taste in music is not high on the list
(he wouldn't know where that title came from, for example. Bonus points are available for those who do).
There are many, many things though, really. However, I am not going to enumerate all his wonderful qualities here. I lack the space on this site, the www does not contain enough pixels to rhapsodize sufficiently on the subject and I'm also too tired to get into it.
Instead I am going to tell you this; he is rewarded for his awesomeness.
In the month of July he was encouraged to purchase himself a trailer for the 16 foot boat he bought 5 years ago. Then he managed to sell enough junk at a garage sale he was able to buy a trolling motor (I spent 5 minutes looking it up to make sure I did not mean trawling, I didn't).
Then last weekend he also bought a pickup truck. When he called to run the idea by me I found myself resigned to the idea. He's been back in the states over three years and somehow has survived without a truck but I always knew it was just a matter of time.
So this weekend while I am in Seattle with Susie he is going to rescue his boat from the bushes and start the long process of turning her into the vessel of his dreams.
Frankly, I'd much rather go play dowtown.

Who doesn't love a party? Especially a book release party

THE OFFHAND MENTION
I wanted to mention that one of my fellow bloggers, a guy named Diesel, has announced the publication date for his first book. Antisocial Commentary: From the Secret Files of the Mattress Police is a collection of over 50 of Diesel’s funniest posts. Head over to his site, MattressPolice.com, and check it out. You can pre-order a signed copy, read a preview of the book, or just read some of his posts.

My Gawpo came to see me!!

Every once in a while it happens that I meet someone who is as crazy as I am, if not more so.

When I find these people, especially if they are sweet, and smart, and fun to talk to, I am always so happy! When I found the Gawpo we hit it off right away.

We both blog of course, but we also chat in Yahoo Messenger and we are IN, thank you Verizon!

We've been plotting a visit for quite a while but between weather, schedules and such it only just happened yesterday. He fly over to see me from where he was vacationing in the San Juans.

Despite the fact it was technically a first meeting it felt like a visit from an old friend. After a big hug, a naming of the Things, and an enthusiastic greeting with Ariella we headed off to get some coffee.
He LOVES the coffee from our little local roaster and even bought a mug. After satisfying that craving he had to have an internet hit, of course!
Then while Thing One and a couple of his friends sat at the dining room table with me and had some creative writing instruction Thing Two played Space Invaders and Gawpo took a nap.

There may have been a small blog hijacking incident, but hey, what did you expect?

After thoroughly ravishing my huckleberry bush we went out for a bite to eat.

Then. sadly, it was time for our hero to fly off into the sunset, well, ok, it wasn't setting quite yet, but it was getting on for 6:30, so it was time for him to leave
(He is the little speck over the horizon there, it's a cell phone cam, gimme a break, ok, there's no zoom).

I can't WAIT till my Gawpo comes back again!

Shirts and signs

I'm just not the type of gal who wears slogan shirts but if I was, here are a couple I still probably wouldn't wear in public even though I think they're kinda funny.

I'm cring on the inside, so my mascara doesn't run.

Last but not least here is a sign everyone needs to know.

Close your hand leaving your middle and pointer fingers up in the shape of a V.

Now whack yourself in the forehead with it as shown below.

Congratulations! You just told someone they are stupid. Now go forth and use this knowledge for quasi-good and not for evil.

Quasi-good = Substituting this gesture for actually obscenes ones when annoyed by poor driving technique.

Evil = Teaching this sign to small children or using it disrespectfully toward the Deaf.

Overthinking

Family and friends have noted on occasion that I have a tendency to overthink things.
Mr. Logo has the ability to just shrug and say, "I guess that's just the way it is."
I want to know why, and how, and does it always happen that way? If not, what causes the alteration. Is the noted difference actually causational or just correlational?
We've been married almost 17 years and these days, especially if we are discussing things of a theoretical or spiritual nature, he tends to recognize the point at which it's unlikely that an unequivocal answer is going to be forthcoming and will look at me and say,
"FM, baby, it's just FM."
FM is something he learned in an electrical engineering class. When you are discussing the properties of the natural world there comes a point when there is no longer a why; it's just the way it is.
Why do neutrons do that?
They just do.
Why?
Mr. Logo's instructor then introduced the bottom line explanation to all these matters.
"It's fucking magic, ok!?"
So whenever we have reached the point in a conversation when he feels there is no more why that needs to be discussed he invokes the ultimate answer.
Sometimes, there is no more why,
it's just FM, baby.

55 Flash Fiction

Urgent fingers tug at zippers and buttons while tongues dance together in silence. Then I feel strong, gentle fingers smooth up my neck and thread through my hair. How can this much taut sexual tension and this languid sensual relaxation co-exist in the body and brain? Swallowing stifled moans, skin separated for too long intertwines.

art by Alfred Gockel

My latest trip this summer

Ok, well, maybe not a trip so much as a slide.
It turns out Thing Two shares my affection for citrus based scents. He was quite enjoy the fagrance of the new bottle of Pledge I purchased today.
If you can't guess what happened next, clearly you are missing at least two of the following:
1. An imagination,
2. Childhood memories,
3. Experience reading this blog,
4. Boy children.
The discovery of a certain slickness on the floor followed, much to their glee.
Now, I do not hold this against them. Despite not encouraging this realization, or actively instructing them in creative furniture polish uses I have to confess, I myself was known to do this same thing. A LOT.
In fact, my friend Tiffany and I discovered that thoroughly spraying your socks was the most effective method and least likely to result in all your clothes stinking and therefore getting in trouble. At about age 10 I actually ripped a ligament lose in my upper left arm engaging in some stellar sliding in this enormous assembly hall. It was huge and you could get some serious distance in there! But I digress...
The POINT is,
I don't like those children anymore.
No, really, I don't.
Don't try and talk me out of it either.
They are horrid little boys.
You want to know how horrid they really and truly are?
They LAUGH at the disabled, the wounded,
the not-quite-middle-aged-but-certainly-not-as-young-as-they-once-were who might sprawl in enormous suprise, perhaps even a touch of shock and mild discomfort of the backside and the pride in the middle of a kitchen floor!
Heartless BEASTS!
I'm actually quite fine and it's possible my theatrics were partially to blame for the extended hilarity but really, they should ask if I'm ok before they laugh their asses off!