RoadWAP

No, really, the constant drizzle was refreshing.

Our episode today pits 16 feet of picket fencing on a Ford Escort wagon against a pretty good wind storm. Escort wins.

I just learned how to tell your direction without a compass, using an analog wristwatch: Orient the watch so the hour hand is parallel to a thin shadow, like a stick in the mud. The imaginary line bisecting the hour and the 12 (or 1 for DST) is the noth-south line (the sun rises east, don’t forget). How have I lived so long without knowing this? (At least I still wear an analog watch.)

In case you’re wondering, the “wagon” part of “Ford Escort Wagon” is intended for descriptive purposes only.

I know, I know: It’s an album of spirituals and hymns. But really…Nobody took him aside and suggested a different title?

While shopping for toys we came across a pink Ouija board for girls. There are so very many things wrong about this. And I can only assume the boys’ version is blue. Apparantly faux wood wasn’t good for either sex, after all.

Not to be a party pooper, but our power goes out for an hour almost every month. Still, it is the thought that counts, right?

Something tells me there is more wrong here than mere orientation.

Who knew? Saran wrap on an open can of Coke makes one tight bubble. Now where’d I put that Old Crow?

I invited all of my friends to this gathering, and still my brother in law is a no show.