2001-02-18 - 23:52 MST

February 18, 2001

Pisht

I guess it is possible to go one way or another tonight. But it is late and I am tired so will do a cop-out entry.

I got up determined to sort a bunch of papers and extraneous gear and re-organize things to a ship - shape, not being sure how to construct a ship shape in a rectangular room it took a bit longer than normal.

Heather reminded me that Son would be here for dinner and she needed a bit of help near dinner time I said, "Aye-aye boss, tugged my forelock and worked a while longer.

Then came the helping with the odds and ends of things that a fumble headed clumsy old man can do to help get a dinner on the table. We sat. We ate. Son went out and smoked a cigaretted and when he came back in, he and Heather went into her den and he taught her some stuff on her computer. I continued to stir up the pile until what I was after came to the top. Wow, that takes time too. So I fraggled along at a pale snace, creating a rather orderly mess, until I was called back for coffee and dessert. Yesm' I went front and center for the opportunity to stuff my face and goof off.

After dessert Son took another cigarette break while Heather and I sat there trying to digest the meal wherein we had consumed more that intelligent people would.

Then we sat, talked, reminiscing heavily while the clock spun. More coffee and of course more talk too.

When Son left, upon taking a gander at the clock it was obvious the best I could do was to unfold the portable pitchfork and dig a path to the Webtv table. Vowing to continue tomorrow, hoping to remember what I put where. Pisht . . . . . .

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