BAM!

Well, what sounded like an artillery shell landed right behind our house and wiped out what I was almost ready to finish up and post. That was from the thunderstorm that I was telling you about before the near miss knocked out the power to my neighbors behind me. All we got was a split second of surge, but boy was that close! So, because I like you, I will attempt to retrieve from memory what I was about to post before Mother Nature tried hinting that maybe I shouldn't post tonight. I never was good at taking hints.

Now, I feel qualified to soldier on and get this posted against all odds, because despite the fact that I do not have a degree in Novella, I feel I am nonetheless quite able in my own limited fashion to duplicate the efforts of infinite monkeys playing metaphoric symbols, even if compared to the likes of Kurt Vonegut or Truman Capote, it comes across as gibberish. I am even able to accomplish this while listening over my shoulder to "Coyote Ugly", the sounds of driving rain on my roof, and the hyperventilated stylings of my canine defender cowering at my feet, so convinced is he that the Gods of Thunder are coming for him personally. I will even enhance the depth of this composition by carefully administered doses of distilled spirits and orange juice, otherwise known as "Nectar of the Bob".

Today I was treated to the usual dearth of weekend blog posts, a phenomenon that occurs when people take two days to concern themselves with activities having nothing to do with blogging. (THIS JUST IN: Wife says, "Honey, my hand hurts!" I say, "Well, if it hurts enough, take a pill." She says, "But I don't WANT to take any more pills!" I say, "Then, hun, you'll have to grin and bare it." To which she smiles and says, "OK, you bare it, and I'll grin!") I remember those days in my youth when I would take those two traditionally off days to commit my share of debauchery and excessive enjoyment of alcohol, but like I said, those were the days of my youth. Nowadays, my "weekends" occur just about any two days of the week, and debauchery? Well..........such memories...........

I'm saving this....hold on.........

Like, I was saying, it was a dark and stormy night...........

I worry about Ozzy. Despite the fact that he had seemed to be on the rebound, and his appetite seems as ravenous as the other goats, he is becoming nothing more than a pot belly attached to a framework of skin and bones, has gotten listless and slow, and rarely makes a sound, in contrast to the cacophony of "What you got to eat, anything to eat, when do we eat it, c'mon, there are things needing to be eaten out there!!!!!!" provided by his herd mates. Ozzy is such a sweet little soul, and has always been my favorite, and I will truly mourn his passing should his time prove to be near at hand. All I can say is that there better be endless fields of lots of green stuff to eat in his afterlife, or I swear to Bob I will track down the cosmic bureaucrat responsible for such an injustice and kill him a SECOND time.

THIS JUST IN; suicide bomber shows up in a soup diner instead of heaven, and the Soup Nazi points at him and shouts "NO virgins for YOU!" (Ok, it's a Seinfield thing)

It's our 13th wedding anniversary coming up on the 14th. Yep, the lucky 13! Despite the fact that we got married during a raging thunderstorm with lightening forking down all around us, we have survived all these years for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health (ok, poorer and sick, but hey, can't have everything!) and just might get thru to till death does me part.

So there you have it, Saturday night at Pendragon Hold. It won't win anything a Cannes this year, but that's OK. I hate caviar anyway.