Row, row, your boat on my Schwinn 150 and 21.2 miles. And I am headed southeast on California 139. Virtually I am north of Said Valley Reservoir.
No snow on the floor, just water...
There are puddles on the tile floor, and I yell “Who peed on the floor?” All four members of The Pack scurry, each to his and her own bed. I repeat, and no one moves. This time not a puppy stirring we discover that the dishwasher has sprung a leak. A big one. Praise be that we have tile floors. Out come the towels, cotton and paper, mops and buckets, but nary a Pack member ventures from the safety of its bed. The liquid mess cleaned up, I set out their bowls of dinner and each; Radar, Max, Bella, and Tinker all chow down oblivious of the breaking of a dam. The plumber’s on his way.
I begin the new and third season of Mad Men, Episode 1. We’re now in the first half of 1963. Nothing has changed: smoking, drinking, and extramarital affairs. The firm is at present the American part of the takeover company from England. (How apropos that Don Draper is surrounded by water?)I have decided to teach myself to make pasta. I'm not in the mood of strangling anyone, (See Day 26), just thought I need to reach a new accomplishment.
Be healthy, and enjoy
Jim
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