So despite my heartfelt desire to spend a day curled up in the corner so as to best recover from yesterday, the minutiae of life demanded my attention. We had places to go, people to see, and things to do.
None of it, however, was particularly newsworthy; unless you want to count the letter I finally wrote in reference to this matter. Now we wait and see if they back down and admit they’ve been bilking unsuspecting parents for years, or if I go to jail. Yay!
But I did learn something important this evening. When it’s just a few days until an anticipated reunion with your sweetheart—after you’ve been apart for close to two months—it is NOT a good idea to ask him for ideas on what to blog about. The resultant conversation will continue merrily until you remind him that his family reads your blog. Then he will insist that that’s not a problem, and you’ll have to remind him that YOUR family reads your blog. And then there will be a very long, awkward pause.
And then you will be tempted. OH SO VERY TEMPTED. But you won’t do it, because you are rather fond of your father and don’t want him to have another heart attack. Hi Dad! We were talking about looking forward to… apple picking.
I… wish I had a bottlecap right now.
Right. Apple picking. I just blogged about you, kinda. It started off really wonderful about you and then, as usual, it was all about me again. I’m so self-centered. Hence, the blogging. :) G’night, horny girl. Hi Dad!
What? No list of to do’s around the house? And what is the state of the promised duvet? Will there be photos of a re-surfaced driveway or death to the moles in the yard? I mean there is not possibly enough time to do anything that either family might blush over.
But then again, as I’ve grown older, I find it is us who tend to blush more when faced with our parents knowing “those” types of things. After all, I am pretty sure our parents did it once or twice before we came along — I mean your parents. My parents are far too uptight and would have NEVER. (Just like their daughter) ;)
wow, it doesn’t seem like two months. Have loverly time.
“Apple picking?” I wish I could go “apple picking.” Maybe I’ll search for some “apple picking” on the internet. Or go to the video store and rent some videos with “apple picking.”
Hi Dad!
Ahhh…apple picking! I hope you get a bushel and a peck. Two months is a long time to wait to see anyone, especially a sweetheart. May those be the best damn apples you’ve ever had. Hi Dad!
I think I’d better bring you a case of bottlecaps … no, wait, your readers will misinterpret that, too.
*sigh*
Bur, seriously, apple picking – I am all over that. There are no good apples in the south, they’re all small and mealy with no good crunch to them. There’s no joy in a southern apple.
Wow. Judging from the comments, it would appear that Mir has quite a few siblings. And they all just LOVE to pick apples. Imagine that. Hi Dad!
Hi everyone!
Yes, I read this blog. Every day.
I do not believe that I should be the source of “restraint of ..expression,” written or otherwise. Whatever is left of my brain remembers all the good stuff.
You shouldn’t worry about making me blush. It’s the 30 other people in my office who read your blog that you need to be concerned about.
Advice: Don’t write anything you can be arrested for. Don’t write anything I can be arrested for. Never end a sentence with a preposition.
“Advice: Don’t write anything you can be arrested for. Don’t write anything I can be arrested for. Never end a sentence with a preposition.”
I am now, officially, in love with your dad.
Which, you know, will likely piss off my husband.
K.
Ah… the joys of apple picking. And bottle caps.
Oooooooh, look! Shiny, shiny bottlecaps…
Yes, I believe I too now have the weensiest crush on your dad. He made me snort.
Your Dad is the shiznit, Mir. Know that.
There’s no joy in a southern apple.
*Snort*
It didn’t help that I’m listening to the classic album “eat a peach” as I read this.
(hi, Dad!)
One of my favorite Aggie jokes is about ending a sentence in a preposition. A snippet:
“Do you know where the library’s at?”
Do you use bottlecaps when you go apple picking?
I don’t know who I love more right now, Otto or Mir’s Dad. I think they should team blog, don’t you all?
Hey, Otto has a blog! (or am I the last one to notice as usual?)
my fervent hope for you is that this weekend’s yield is a few bushels of apples.
(grumble grumble at least someone will get some applesauce grumble grumble sure wish I had some apple butter grumble grumble PIE PIE PIE PIE)
I found a good recipe for apple scones. With strawberry butter. I hear strawberry picking is good too.
I’m wondering if the kids are going to their Dads this weekend?
Are you going to warn him about ‘the talk’?
I had some mock apple pie this weekend. Almost as good as real apples. None of the nutrition, though. Hmm. Enjoy the real thing. :)