Mostly Good, With a Lil Bad Mixed In

Yeah... Ron Paul is lookin' better and better.  And better.  But I just can't sign on with his foreign policy views, among other thangs.

―:☺:―

We've had a run o' good... no, great... WX this past week.  I sat out on the verandah from about 1030 hrs until twilight last evening, goin' directly from morning coffee to beer without even so much as a missed step.  We did take the odd potty break now and then, one blogging break, and spent some quality time with the neighbor ladies and my erstwhile foster granddaughter, who continues to crawl all over me like I'm some sorta amusement park.  "It's because you're so nice to her," sez my neighbor.  I just smiled while thinkin' "well, I'm nice to YOU, too, yanno?"  I should verbalize these thangs, methinks.  The ol' "faint heart/fair lady" cliché comes to mind...

There's a downside to this fine WX: the right side o' my face is severely sunburned; sunburned to the point o' pain, to the point where we broke out the Greasy Kid Stuff (Neosporin) and slathered it all over our nose and cheek last evening.  I hate it when this happens, more so in the dead o' winter.

We shall be havin' more of the same in the upcoming week.  Note:

Which is MUCH better than a year ago, almost to the day (01/30 vs. 01/31):

We Otta Be a Whole Helluva Lot Smarter By Friday...

... on account o' because we're gonna be spending the next four nights in the Holiday Inn Express just across the highway.  I thought about this long and hard before I decided to abandon El Casa Móvil De Pennington for a warmer space.  My Inner Macho Man said "don't be a freakin' wuss, it's just a lil cold, is all."  Macho Man was winning until I ran into Jenny at Wally-World and she was pretty emphatic with the "do it!" thing.  Which all goes to prove that women are generally smarter than men when it comes to macho stuff.

And just how cold will it be?  This cold:

 

I can do overnight temps in the teens but below zero stuff just ain't ANY fun.  At all.

So.  We're booked.  Registering at the front desk of the HIE was sorta funny... I was asked for address, etc. and duly gave the particulars... which got weird for the lady when she said "and your ZIP code there?'  "88130," sez I.  "Hunh?  What's that all about, if I may ask?"  We explained, she understood.  And Hey!  Free breakfast for the next four days, or at least someone else is gonna do the cookin'.  Coz it ain't exactly free, yanno?

I'll take this year over last... along with some zinc oxide for the ol' snozz.