The river does not rush the pie pan

Mouse...toad.... they're both bovines. So what does that tell you? That I like stick people cartoons and I have a load of them saved up. Yep, I do. They're not complex. They make me smile. And they never ask me to stop watching TV to move furniture.

Ow! Girl cat (Yuki, the normally mellow feline) has decided a full claw version of "Bat the big toe" is in order. She makes me laugh. She makes me bleed. But again, no movement of furniture requests.

Got 2 truckloads of furniture in yesterday. Yes, all the vaccuums, refrigerators, shelves, dishes, etc. have finally come home to roost. This place is bursting at the seams. But we are no longer going to be camping out. No siree, the good stuff is here.

We have the only the weekend to get it all sorted and put away. Or at least the front part of the house, because wallpaper guy is coming back Monday to finish up. Of course, the back part is where we sleep, dress and shower, not necessarily in that order, so we need to get it straightened out a little, too. Repeat after me in your saddest, most resigned voice, "No football for Ed this weekend."

Oh, yeah. If I remember to, I will take a picture of my kitchen refrigerator and it's absolutely ridiculous number of attached magnets. It boggles my mind. Your mind may not experience the same degree of boggle, I can't really say. But the side effects are rare, usually mild in nature and may include dizziness, itchy skin or in extremely rare instances, urinary tract inflamation. Ask your doctor if viewing the picture is right for you.

The card I couldn't post yesterday:

I just don't know what to say. My life for the last few days has been 3 things and 3 things only: License test (done), household goods (in progress) and wallpaper (also in progress).

I feel the Ramblin' Ed slipping away faster than I had expected. Days and weeks spent wrapped up in relatively minor life events that take inordinate amounts of time and energy. The adventure, the sitting in the shade and musing, the road trips to whatever is at the end of this randomly selected backroad have all been put on hold. I am becoming Domestic Ed, Plastic Ed or Suburban Ed. If the transformation becomes complete, if I see all of the just on a lark, nonsensical moments in my life shelved and I become the masculine version of a South Brandon Soccer mom, I will put a bullet in the head of this blog and walk away. I'm hoping that don't happen, of course. Bullets are expensive and we need new carpet and drapes.

Boring, yet surprisingly unexciting, out
Ramblin' Ed, suburban househusband