Ponies Ought Nine

So the annual trek to Hot Springs went off without a hitch, ya know?

Except for the part where I lose my shirt to those wretched bookies.

In all honesty my shirt is only twenty dollars, so the loss is minimal.

...but the fun knows no bounds!

My photos this year were non-existent, but I managed to get a shot after the first race.

...and a shot of my favorite character, albeit from the back.  Last year he wore purple accessories.  But you can read about that further down.

Look here and here. My favorite rite of spring chronicled for anyone and everyone to read.

And another thing.

Looking back on those posts, I realize I used to actually write.  I used to think of something I wanted to share and actually put it down on (cyber) paper.

What happened to me?

Ebb and flow, I reckon.  Maybe someday soon, I'll think of something that needs to be said in a witty way.  Maybe not a witty way, but in a personal way. 

My own personal way.

I kinda miss that.

Instead I've resorted to Wicked Wednesday reporting. Which I must confess is kind of fun.

I already know what tomorrow holds.

Are you giddy with anticipation?

Oatmill Rastlin'

...not 'oatmeal'.

...oatmill.

My hand to Jesus.

...

...

...

I have no words.

This N That

As I sit drinking a glass of red, I'm feeling the wind blow through an open window.  It is blessedly blowing the stink off  me and taking winter's cobwebs with it. If you were here you'd hear the click of my keys and the snorts I aim at Facebook.

Big is sitting at the snack bar.  There is an art/drama project due when school returns to session next week.  He is busy at work tracing Oedipus and the Sphinx on a vase. I'm pleased as punch that this senior can concentrate with less than 45 days of school left.

Little and Big Daddy are in the living room playing with guitars.  There is tuning to be done and experimentation taking place with the newest heirloom passed down just this weekend from Grandad.

The livestock are contentedly lounging outside.  Fred keeps guard across the back door, while Sadie holds court atop the picnic table.

When we've all finished with our collective piddlin', and the spicy chicken pasta has digested,  I have to finish the Femme Fatal ultimate playlist on Rock Band.

No one gets by One Way or Another 'ceptin me.

...well and Blondie.

I suppose I should do something constructive.  I do need to wield the Swiffer duster.  Lord knows it's thick across the house.

Then again, the open windows and spring-like breeze should take care of that.

...you reckon?

WW IV

Held over for another week!

You can click to enlarge, but the quality is what you can expect from a cell phone.

If they change the sign next Wednesday, I may continue reporting. Otherwise I may seek early retirement from my recent foray into serious journalism.

I have indeed enjoyed bringing the latest in adult entertainment activity to you each Wednesday. 

But...

 I fear my next step would be to go deep undercover and report activities from within.

...as a competitor.

I don't know if they can handle that much Sugar in their cherry pie.

Cat Out of the Bag

Where are Mom and Dad going?

The blog awards.

What?

Yeah, Mom's got a blog.

How come you know about this and I don't?

I caught her.

What?

Yeah.  She wrote a post about Granny over a year and a half ago and then she left it up accidentally.

Did Dad know?

He caught her too, but didn't tell her he knew.  The she knew that he knew, but didn't tell him.  So for a long time she didn't let him know that she knew that he knew, and he didn't tell her he knew.  Then he found out that she knew that he knew. 

Why didn't Dad want her to know that he knew?

He thought that she'd change the way she wrote if she knew he was reading it.

What does she write about?

She writes about how she cries when I sing and how she cries when she looks at your man legs.  She also writes about Dad and family and friends and memories and experiences and what kind of wrestling is going on down at the strip club.

Weird.

Tell me.

Huzzah!

I'm just happy as a pig in slop.

Our gorgeous Nixa Lady Eagles just captured the Missouri Class 5A State Basketball Championship.

Grace, poise, and a scrappy determination was the order of the day.

Nixa 56, Blue Springs 39.

I'm exhausted and screamed out.  

...and that was just from watching it on TV.

I'm taking to my bed.

WW III

Cherry Pie tonight.

Does one jump into a huge cherry pie and wrestle?

Does one just jump into the pie filling itself without the crust?

I should have asked this with the chicken pot pie last week, but I forgot.

Is the cherry pie ala mode?

Do they play Cherry Pie while wrestling?

...wouldn't that be the pits.

Heh.

...that's what she said

...for those of you who watch The Office.

For those of you who don't, this might catch you up.

Big and Little make me laugh every day.

It's good to be me.

Wicked Wednesday 2

I was remiss in my duties.

If any of you missed Chicken Pot Pie rasslin' last Wednesday...my bad.

However, oil rasslin' is still taking place at the Pink Cadillac.

10W40 or Canola?