He's mine shay!! You stay back.... tee hee
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He's mine shay!! You stay back.... tee hee
No worries! I don't have to wash his dirty unmentionables, nor feed him!! :lol
lol.... I only feed him. Laundry is an individual thing in my home! No one touches my clothes and they are responsible for their own!! I don't like doing other people's laundry even my son's.
Tonight my simple pleasure is having a beer, a heating pad on my abdomen and sitting in bed with the laptop. (female stuff)
One of the greatest TV shows ever.Quote:
Originally Posted by buglover;2935947;
Trivia: Did you know that the house used in Leave It to Beaver is the same house used in Marcus Welby, MD for the outside shots?
Laundry is an individual thing here too.Quote:
Originally Posted by buglover;2936011;
Leave it to Beaver is one of my FAVORITES! and always has been. Probably why I call Waldo, Wally so much. :)
Unk, that is a cool piece of trivia.
Yesterday I got an urge for a baguette that is sold at a charcuterie in my town. It has seven kinds of sandwich spreads, at least (I got eight once, haven't checked the one I got today) which is all cold cuts. And it's high quality meat as well. It's also not very expensive, not more than a regular baguette, which is smaller and doesn't have as many, and as high quality, spreads.
Mmm, getting all excited for a sandwich, but it's so good, and it's been a year since I last had one. I'm so looking forward to lunch, today.
Having my pond/fountain/waterfall up and running again complete with darting goldfish and returning perennials. Even if I get a cast today, at least I have a place to sit and enjoy.
Well a pond/fountain/waterfall sounds cool.
That sounds so serene Gut. Hopefully your cast comes sooner than later so it's off before the bulk of Summer!!
:up to scratch-and-dent markdowns. Always carry a screwdriver, hammer, and 5-year-old when shopping.
:down to my signature scent. I don't what's wrong with a mix of sweat, old socks, garlic and wet dog, but people seem relieved when I scrub it off. :shrug
:up to watching my land come to life after winter releases its grip.
:up to finally catching on to whatever it is that my piano teacher is trying to pound into my thick skull and tin ear.