26 November 2003
The grands and Onie arrived last night, as anticipated, and they're off to Aunt Bertha's funeral now.
The toilet is not fixed yet. The piece I bought didn't fit it right, so now we have to go back to Home Despot and get a different one, one that fits better. If there is such a critter there. I'm a little apprehensive about this, but I suppose if we have to get more parts, we'll deal with that.
I had an apple fritter yesterday. It was good.
Right now my brain is trying to process two short stories and a ton of house stuff. You'll notice that none of those things is a journal entry. Huh.
We don't have a general storage place for bookmarks. This is an important lapse for us.
Mark is coming home tonight. We get to keep him. My folks are coming up tonight. We get to borrow them. They're bringing a bunch of stuff we get to keep, though. David thought I was engaging in hyperbole when I said they were bringing a piano. Nope. People often think I'm engaging in hyperbole when I'm speaking the literal truth. I don't understand why this is, really. I blame Warner Bros. for the piano thing, though.
I am thinking in declarative sentences. I am thinking of a thing. In a different mood, I might have thought a thought and seen a thing. But not this time. Anyway, this time, the thing I'm thinking of is a shower, and I'm pretty sure it would have taken you awhile to guess that.
I'm going to think more practically about this thing. I'll post a more normal entry tomorrow.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.