Last night I was staying at the Hilton and got a complimentary digital copy of USA Today. Very timely since Mother’s Day is almost here!
SO leaned over my shoulder and offered with a grin, “I had something else in mind for Mother’s Day, but this looks good.”
Okay, I was just kidding about dad eating for free.
The real kicker is no woman eats free unless she has a kid in tow. Yes, she can leave dad at home. :D
I’m getting this post out of the way before I start eating the elephant (Richard Armitage’s whirlwind in Australia).
My recent absence certainly obliterated any good intentions for keeping up, and absolutely shot my April A to Z challenge to hell. Nevertheless, I’ll probably take a run at the challenge next year. Until then, I thought seriously of calling this post “I’ve Seen Hell,” but the news provided something better. Although it is true. I have seen hell.
I’ve witnessed SO‘s physical anguish. Certainly it’s been a horrible thing for him. I can’t fully process what he’s been through. But it’s also hell to watch the suffering of someone you love and be able to do little or nothing. For a control freak and scrapper like me, that is surely torture. Thankfully, I’ve been learning a better way by watching him. Despite being in pain topped off by even more pain, the man who has never been fake (and I admire him greatly for this ability) was a diplomat in horrendous circumstances. Graciousness all around — when I wanted to strangle someone. LOL! I’m glad I can laugh about this now that he is doing so much better! More on that later.
And I can even be content with all that’s happened when my mind’s eye sees SO’s sweet grin that charmed his nurses even as his fate was questionable. What made it sweeter was he had no intent to charm. But anyone that earnest and hopeful and clever of tongue is bound to generate some infatuation. Reminds me of someone else I’ve observed, and certainly goes a long way toward explaining my continued existence here.
That, and some insanity. :D
A little something to help me mute my rational self and get back in the flow:
[click to enlarge]
I know I’m not the first to say it, but damn! look at those eyelashes. They ought to be illegal. But great for going insane. LOL! *maniacal laugh in progress*
Too bad Lucas isn’t still alive, or maybe he is.
And now for Richard:
Dear Rich,
I really thought I was going to just leave you alone for good, but you’re too much fun, and so are your fans. I hope you don’t mind that I just can’t quit you. Yes, I admit I’m usually this cheesy, but would you rather I be serious? I didn’t think so. ;-)
Signed,
One of your crazy fans, who honestly doesn’t know how long she can keep her serious self down; just know that I’m trying. I’m really, really trying.
Screencap courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
note: if you’re thoroughly confused by this post, another post or two might shed some light on what we’ve been going through. Or skip it and come back when I bite into this last round of RA’s interviews.
I cannot believe I’m referring to myself in third person again. If SO saw this, he would have a field day with it. I can hear it now, “What are you Elmo or Jimmy or something?”
Okay, the point — I turned off my phone for a few days, and I haven’t been on the Net, much. All of this was at the request of SO, who said, “Do you think you could navigate without that for a day or two?” Then he grinned. How could I resist?
And you know that old saying about familiarity breeding contempt, so I think staying away from Richard Armitage pics and video for a few days was a good thing and apparently didn’t put a damper on my ardor.
Back to the point. This is my long way of saying, please forgive me for not replying to email and messages. I have not been ignoring you — no one specific anyway. I just needed a break. But I’m back now, so give me some time to get caught up.
Thanks for being patient!
Hmmm. This needs a picture. But what would fit? Not sure. While I’m typing this sentence, I’m letting my mind wander. Got it.
Yes, I’m telling the truth, Rich. And I feel so good now that I realize I CAN survive several days without my phone and very little Internet. I know you like your phone, and oh yeah, your iPad, but you might give this a try sometime. :D
Note: this is a photo I haven’t been inclined to use because he looks so much like my dad in this one. Yeah, I can see my dad’s scolding look, and it looked just like that.
edit: When I got back on Twitter last night, I saw a blog piece by MicheleR with an update about Inspector Lynley. LOL! If you’ve never seen the show, go check out her blog.
Screencap courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
Yes, I’m finally updating this saga, and started to do it in the wee hours of the morning — at least for most of my readers. But if you haven’t been following along, the first part is here. And if you don’t want to follow along, no worries. Come back when I return to the regularly scheduled snark.
SO and I followed the doctor’s instructions and began the odyssey into the world of kidney disease. But just as we were getting started, the insurance company we had been paying for years decided to cancel our health insurance. They gave us a few months notice, and this was after they had been paid an average of around $2,000 a month for almost 10 years. Yeah, do the math on that. You may ask why that much. SO is type 1 diabetic and we are self-employed, which meant the bill was for a hellacious amount of coverage (and with a high deductible), but then when we needed it most, gone. Even now I want to call those that run the insurance company some foul names, but I believe it’s wrong to hold a grudge. It also steals my energy to do so.
Nevertheless, the insurance company took advantage, and we should have known we weren’t insuring against catastrophe. On some level as business people and realists, we knew insurance companies are gamblers and gamblers have the ability to call the game if it’s not going their way. But we got comfortable in what we were doing. We loved concentrating on the town and its people and not worrying about something coming to bite us on the backside. At one point before this happened, we had talked about self-insuring because we had the means, but we thought it was too risky. I could cry about that now; I just see no point. We have learned a hard lesson and now we try to apply what we’ve learned and move on. But make no mistake we’re aware of others who do not have the means and are still paying for what insurance companies and the healthcare industry in general did to them. I don’t know what I’m going to do about that, but I’m going to do something — government intervention or no government intervention (no, I don’t want to get political). This experience has made a reformer of me, but mostly, as a Christian, I cannot simply let this lie.
But I didn’t always feel that way. When this first happened, I wanted to become terrified and roll into a ball. I knew that although SO made an income and we had savings, it was potentially not enough to handle the coming debt of kidney disease. And since no one would hire SO and give him insurance benefits, I needed to find employment or we might eventually be left destitute. What I hadn’t considered was age discrimination. I wasn’t a stranger to discrimination as I had received some when I was younger and working in a “man’s profession,” but it was still not in my nature to look for it. I have to be hit over the head with it before I realize it’s happening. It began to hit me over the head repeatedly as I went to look for a job. No matter where I went or how well I did in interviews, no matter the power clothes or hip hairstyle I wore, or how much people liked me, or how well I passed any tests I was given, or how much I was willing to relocate, no one wanted to hire me. Along the way I kept re-educating myself about the process of getting a job, and I learned a lot more than I had known. I had certainly let most of my network dry up, and eventually I had to accept that maybe there was an issue with my being 50 years old. Ouch.
I’m not sure I can fully describe the pain of fighting the notion people are looking at you like you’re a non-entity, something to be dismissed. It took over a year for the reality to sink in. When it did, I was way past terrified and a big part of me wanted to say, “Fuck it” and be depressed. Can I think that and say that as a Christian? Can I have that attitude as someone who believes in Christ, the Redeemer of all? I sure can, but that’s not what the Lord wanted and had prepared me to do. Plus, He reminded me I know about depression and how it can suck you down in a pit and keep you there. I had learned that from growing up in an extended family where depression became so prevalent the running joke is the family crest is three men in straightjackets. I also learned it from my own life threatening bouts with it. Frankly, I could write a book about its debilitating effects, and in fact, I am. But I digress.
The unscalable wall of no job and no benefits, and therefore no way to easily deal with SO becoming sicker, was not moving. Something had to be done. But what? An employer was not on the horizon, and I could not see starting another business. Not a successful one anyway. I know how hard that is. It’s like being pregnant, giving birth and then rearing the child, which takes a lot of time and heart, and if you don’t attend to it as such, it will wither and die. The thought of taking that on while soldiering through what SO was dealing with and would eventually be dealing with could short circuit my brain. But the thought kept coming back. And of course I felt guilty at times about this place. Here we are in a major life crisis, and I’m blogging about some obscure British actor (a good looking, obscure British actor), but some bloke I didn’t know, and I was painting myself as a goofball in the process? What?!!
And just to be clear, SO is not a eunuch, was definitely skeptical of this place, and said to me rather pointedly on one occasion, “What are you doing? What wonderful energy are you expending? Is it worth it? You decide, but I want to ask you another question.” I arched a brow at him but said nothing, and then he went on, “How would you feel if I started blogging all the time about some good looking actress?” I looked him right in the eye and said, “I wouldn’t like it.” I almost quit blogging, but at that point, it was not about Richard Armitage, and really, it never was.
This post was supposed to be more about SO and turned out to be more about me. These posts were originally in two parts, but I’ve been thinking, and now I’m not sure how long this will run. This has happened a few times, and I’m well aware it has created some loose ends lying around here. I’ll get to them before I’m done. My anal nature will ensure that! But with this series, I’m going to keep going until I’m satisfied. Sort of like this blog — which was supposed to last two months. :D
I am so tired that I can barely type this sentence, but I promise to post more on my and SO’s adventure. Thanks for understanding. :)
Life is funny how it jerks you around, but when I look back, I wouldn’t have it any other way. There are fantastic things I’ve experienced that would have never happened if circumstances hadn’t pushed me. Until several years ago, I was comfortably ensconced in a beautiful little mountain town, raising my children, spending wonderful times with SO, cooking a lot and sometimes inviting the whole town to my house to laugh and eat or to mourn if the occasion warranted, and always having an open door to whomever may need to unburden themselves.
SO and I, who grew up in the city and came from corporate culture, had more or less become part of a family in this little town, and we were loving it. It was the realization of a dream that started when we were both busting our backsides in our 20s and 30s. The plan had been to build a business and make enough money that we could then go and freely do what we wanted. There were two things we wanted: to serve a community and to spend a lot of time with our kids and not necessarily in that order.
Us at 36 with the kids in a shot taken about 2 hours from where we would eventually live three years later:
Things were humming along nicely in the little town. We had learned to live way below our means in order for our savings to stretch and keep us in “retirement.” We also had a wonderful relationship with our kids and each other (despite our sometimes tempestuous interactions). Two of the kids were successfully doing college with another one getting ready to go. They had also enjoyed running and excelled at it. SO being a running coach was helpful, and we spent considerable time going to meets. It was at one such meet where our son was doing really well when something happened. SO had a pain, and it was bad enough he had to go to the car. This was the guy who usually ran all over a 5K course to keep up with the progress of a race and no obstacle ever got in his way. When he slunked off toward the car, I knew something was seriously wrong. A few moments later I jogged over to see what was going on. His face was deathly white, but he almost threw his stop watch at me and was adamant I watch the finish line.
I reluctantly went back to watch, and as I turned around, he was behind me. Still looking like a ghost and not able to walk so vigorously but trying to make it near the finish line. He didn’t quite make it and had to watch from afar as our son easily came in first. When I turned to say we should go to the hospital, he was stubborn about just going home. Home was 20 minutes away, so we went there quickly. All the way home, I was trying to get him to call an ambulance, but he refused (yep, he’s a typical male). Then as we walked into the house, he stopped and said, “Please call 911!” Thankfully, I had already called them, and they were on their way. SO sat on the local Fire and Rescue Board at the time, and I had actually called the fire chief’s house first, and then 911. They were there lickety split and SO was so anxious to see them that he stumbled into the front yard toward the ambulance.
At the hospital, we of course learned from tests that he had had a heart attack, and they were discussing care flight options with me. Such is the price of living in the boonies — anything really serious goes wrong, and you’re on a plane or helicopter heading for the city. Thankfully, SO’s situation stabilized and he was able to be taken by car to the other side of the mountain. They ran even more tests on him at the big city hospital, and we learned he would not be needing bypass surgery as there was no blockage or even damage to his heart. A miracle. But we also had a bomb dropped on us. We learned he had kidney disease and was a few steps away from dialysis.
We were quickly hooked up with a nephrologist, and a month later, SO was told to get a living donor or get on the kidney transplant deceased donor list. We started the process, and I was not a match, his sister was not a match, his parents were too old, several friends were not a match. Our children volunteered to give their kidneys, but considering the family history, we told them it was best to hang onto theirs — they may need them! The work began to get him on the deceased donor list. This took a year and was quite a roller coaster ride. But even while this was being done, I and other family were working to find him a living donor. Meanwhile, his doctors had told him to do everything possible to stay off of dialysis, and as a result, he became too weak to do much of anything.
All of this was going on a few months after I started this blog. Tomorrow night I’ll continue the story.
2012 was quite a ride for Richard Armitage. Too much happened to recap it! Not even going to try especially when there are so many others who have done such a marvelous job of it, and if you don’t want a recap and just want to immerse yourself in information and photos about Richard Armitage, try Places to Get a Fix or The Addict List.
As for me, I’m taking a day off and celebrating! I may go skiing, and I may go see The Hobbit again. It occurred to me I was tense about SO‘s take on the movie and couldn’t really enjoy it like I wanted. So back to the movies without him. Until then, I’ll be outside.
And now a word or two to our guy:
Richard,
I hope you can take the day off. It’s lovely weather for skiing somewhere, and you’ve got the funds to go where you would like. Yes, I realize you know that, but with someone like you, a reminder may be in order.
If you take it into your head to grace our slopes in the U.S., there are plenty of great places. I’m not even going to mention my area although it’s great too!
Wherever you go, I hope you can get outside. That’s where I’m headed. I adore being outside, and I don’t mind saying it’s days like today that make me want to pinch myself because I live where I do.
Hope you have a great day and don’t break a leg. :D
Signed,
One of your crazy fans, who wishes she could do this:P.S. If you missed it, check out my other letter about skiing. I’ll be back tomorrow
to give you a hard timewith my speculation about what you’re doing. :D
Now that my major control freak is satisfied for a while by telling Richard Armitage what I think he ought to do :D, I want to leave you with a little treat for Christmas. At the end of my last piece, I said I was emphatically not against Richard being cast as a romantic lead. But what kind of romance? A period drama? An epic? Yes, he could do those well, but what I’ve been thinking is a little more down to earth. It’s called the sweet romance which I’ve been rediscovering through Beverly Farr, a fellow blogger and RA fan who is also an author. She’s been schooling me about it through her contemporary books, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the education.
She says of herself and her writing:
I love stories. I love romance. I write sweet stories about how love should be.
When I first read that, I wasn’t sure what to think, but I took a chance and read one of her books, and it was hard to deny the grin on my face when I finished. Then I read another one, and then I knew I wanted to talk to Beverly.
ME: Some truth. I didn’t expect to like your stories. I was biased about the “sweet romance” in a contemporary setting. It’s not that I like lurid writing for itself, but I just didn’t have great expectations of a good, modern story that didn’t have something explicit in it. How jaded am I?
BEVERLY: Unfortunately, a lot of people think sweet means stupid or boring. And maybe my stories aren’t sweet. I don’t know. I just don’t know what word to use. I think my stories are like Jean Arthur. Sweet because of content, but with the occasional sting or snarkiness.
ME: I love that mixture, and yep, you’re right. The word sweet has been perverted into something boring.
BEVERLY: Like in my fairy story where the heroine’s brother was eaten by a cat. That bothers people, but makes me laugh.
ME: I bought that book but haven’t read it yet. I’ve read Her Ex Next Door and The M Word. At the risk of sounding offensive, I was stunned at how much I liked these stories.
BEVERLY: Thanks for the comment. I like the “stunned” idea. It gives me hope. My stories are difficult to market because they’re not what some people think of as “sweet” but they’re not the basic contemporary novel, either.
ME: No, they’re not. They are in a class by themselves from what I can tell. I haven’t read romances in years, so I may not be the best one to make an analysis of that.
What got you started on the “sweet romance?”
BEVERLY: When I was younger, I read nearly every romance novel I could find, sweet and otherwise. Over the years, however, I realized that I really don’t want to know the details of what the characters are doing in the bedroom. I prefer to leave that to my imagination. I love the romantic movies — drama and comedy — of the 1930s through the 1950s. The good movies from that era are romantic and sometimes very sexy, without any details on screen. For example: Clark Gable was incredibly sexy and I don’t remember him being in any on screen love scenes. My other favorite actors are James Stewart, Cary Grant, William Powell, and Ronald Colman. All beautiful and brilliant.
So basically I write books that are like the movies I enjoy — sometimes sweet, sometimes funny, sometimes dramatic, but with no detailed love scenes. I had a reviewer who said one of my books was technically “clean” but there was still a lot of talk about sex (it was necessary for the plot). My response to that is that grown-ups in a romantic relationship are going to talk about sex eventually. I want to write books that grown ups enjoy, but I hope that whatever I write will be honest and respectful enough that it will be appropriate for teenagers to read as well.
I’d like to be the Frank Capra of romance writing. But that sounds pretentious.
ME: No, it doesn’t. I think you’re making a good start. I need to think about The M Word characters and which Capra characters they remind me of. Did I mention that I loved The M Word? :D What gave you the idea of using La Traviata as a framework for the story?
BEVERLY: I adore Marriage of Convenience stories, so The M Word started as a twist on that familiar theme. My hero Marius loved opera, but I knew little about it other than liking Carmen, so I started researching. I skimmed books on opera, on Placido Domingo, and watched a film version of La Traviata. At that point, I saw my story had parallels to it, so I expanded on that theme, which made for a deeper, more interesting story. I often start a novel with an interesting premise or character and start asking, “What if?” questions. I know I ultimately want a happily-ever-after ending, but I can write half a book before I figure out how to get there.
ME: Maybe it’s just me, but I pictured Richard Armitage as Marius.
BEVERLY: Well, he looks a little like Thorin, but he’s more like John Standring, and there is one scene that reminds me of Lucas North. Marius is also a little like Monet, because he’s European and likes good food. The more I look for similarities, the more I find. :)
But to be honest, those are afterthoughts. As much as I love Richard Armitage, the character of Marius was created before I first watched North and South and became an addict, so he was his own person earlier. Of course, if Richard Armitage wanted to play him on film, I would be thrilled.
ME: I would pay to see that!
And I understand Richard Armitage has inspired you. How so?
BEVERLY: First of all, he’s beautiful and beauty has a way of inspiring people. But he’s intelligent and that’s even more inspiring. He is a detailed actor who gives the viewer a glimpse into his character’s thoughts and feelings. His performances are carefully crafted, but there is a sense of honesty, sincerity and depth in his portrayals. For me, he makes me think about the characters, then about human nature, and finally about what is important in life. That prompts me to write. And watching his creativity, taking the words of the script and putting it into action, inspires me. I want to have the same detail and dedication in my work. When I write, I imagine a movie in my mind. What do the characters look like and how do they move or sound? I try to add the descriptive details that I would notice in a film, but then I add the emotions that I’m guessing they feel. Watching Richard Armitage has helped me see the complexity of characters and has helped me find the good in my bad characters and the bad in my good ones.
ME: I can’t wait to see what you have coming.
Do you mind if my minor control freak throws an idea at you? Maybe a contemporary story based on Gary Cooper’s character in Good Sam?
Okay, I think my control freak is fully satisfied — at least until after Christmas. ;-)
I hope you will check out Beverly’s works and please be sure to check out her blog as well. She just published a great series on Christmas movies that begins here.
I haven’t said this to Beverly but what I most admire about the male leads in her books is their steadfast love for others and of course including their love interests. The stuff of only Jane Austen’s and Elizabeth Gaskell’s days? Maybe, but I can tell you without hesitation SO is one of those males, and as I sit here on the morning of Christmas Eve 2012, I’m remembering 30 years ago today right around midnight that he asked me to be his mate for life. Should I mention we were watching It’s a Wonderful Life at the time? Or would that sound too sweet? :D
Some of you have been wondering about my absence. It’s a two-fold issue. There is a lot going on with my family and my business. It’s all good, but it’s time consuming. I also had to step away from The Hobbit full court press machine in order to preserve enjoyment of the movie. That’s not a knock on the PR. I understand they had to do it for the general public who hasn’t been following along. But with over two years of immersing myself in information about it and then going to New York and being bombarded by its presence, I knew the movie would be ruined for me if I didn’t step out of the fray.
Okay, enough of my excuses for not being here, I’m ready to review this puppy. Unfortunately, I suck at analysis of movies and books, so I will be deferring to SO for most of this.
We saw the 48fps 3D version. Honestly, I loved this version. It was very clear but not in a buffoonish way as was suggested about 48fps 2D. Most noticeable to me is I came away without the slight headache and nausea I usually get from 3D. With the negative space severely restricted in the higher frame rate, my eyes were not continually straining to focus, and it made for a very pleasant experience. So I think 48fps as the basis for 3D is a big win and here to stay for those who will take the time to try it.
Our 12 year old and one of her buddies went with us, and thankfully, they sat at the very back so we could perhaps escape being subjected to their muffled giggles and their incessant need to go to the restroom. Such is the life of middle school girls. Oy. Despite my sometimes distraction by the two girls, I enjoyed the movie. Mostly, I wanted to know what SO thought since he’s the writer, he’s the movie connoisseur,and he hadn’t been biased by an avalanche of information about The Hobbit!
We had not even reached the exit door after the movie was over when SO announced with a surprised grin, “I really liked that!”
I cut my eyes at him and wanted an explanation, “Really? What did you like about it?”
“It was fun!”
After all of the time talking on and off about The Hobbit, I was hoping for a bit more from him. He continued, “Yeah, it was fun. I was 12 again, and I loved the adventure.”
“So nothing beyond it being an adventure?” I asked still hoping for an examination from him. C’mon give me something I was thinking.
He said, “Well, it was too long, but then that’s Peter Jackson, and I’m sure he has an eye toward people watching this at one sitting when the series is out on DVD. Something to be savored over and over. Isn’t that what Ringers do?”
Yeah, it is. “But why do you think it was too long?” I persisted.
“The whole Frodo part was extraneous. The time in Bilbo’s house with the dwarves was also too long and too much singing. They should have kept it to one song and then sung the one about the mountains later. But then that may just be me.”
I had felt the song was out of place as well, but I was curious about his thinking. “Why do you think the singing was a problem?”
“It did little to develop the characters or the story. I knew it was supposed to move me, but it did not. When I read the book about a hundred years ago, I didn’t care for the singing then either. It seemed disjointed from the rest of the story. A bit lame. At least that’s how I remember it. As I think of the movie now, part of the problem was that your guy was not developed enough for me to really get the significance of the Misty Mountain song. I did notice the other dwarves were in awe of him when he came to Bilbo’s door, but that wasn’t really enough to show me why they were in awe. Yes, he was the leader, but all I knew of him was he was a deposed prince and angry at the Elves for not helping his people. What in all of that should generate awe? What made the audience really care to know about him? It wasn’t until Balin told more of Thorin’s past and the maiming of the Pale Orc that I understood he was a badass who deserved the reverence from the others. This should have been near the beginning.
The Badass Dwarf
“And of course none of this is Richard Armitage’s fault. I think he did a good job, but the writing failed there.”
I was stunned. Not by his breaking down the story but at the use of Richard Armitage’s real name. LOL!
He continued, “Then again, Peter Jackson was slow to develop Aragorn, and your guy [yeah, I noticed Richard no longer had a name. :D] is very much like that character in the sense that he is really the Man as it became evident that Aragorn was the Man.”
“But what about Bilbo?” I asked.
“Sure, he’s the physical conscience whereas Gandalf is the spiritual conscience, but the story is about Thorin. He is ultimately the center of this piece. And I did not realize how much Armitage was going to be the central character in this movie. This is Thorin’s story! I guess I kept thinking about the last thing I saw with him — a five minute bit in Captain America and didn’t realize he was essentially going to have the starring role in The Hobbit.”
“Oh, but he’s not the star!” I corrected.
SO laughed, “Yeah, right. Although he didn’t have many lines in this segment, he’s going to be Aragorn at the end. Hide and watch.”
“But the story isn’t the same as the Lord of the Rings,” I said still trying to set him straight.
“No, it’s not, but Thorin is an Aragorn in the sense of the pivotal character.”
I agreed with everything he said and was compelled to keep asking questions, “What did you like best about the movie?”
“Too much to narrow it down, but the ending was fantastic. I’m ready for the next installment.”
“Wow. You really did like it.”
“Yes, I did.”
I have more thoughts about it, but I’ve added it to another post. For now, just know that the movie was worth $12.50 a person, and more important the almost three hours investment of time.
And the biggest plus to me personally is SO now wants to watch other pieces with Richard Armitage. Thank you, Peter Jackson. :D
I’ve been busy which should be obvious; otherwise, I would have been here fangirling with the rest of you! Life does have a way of intruding. This week it came in with a vengeance, and in the wee hours of the night and the morning, I wrote about it. It would be a wonderful release to publish, but I’m not sure this is the place for it.
Nevertheless, I have plenty to publish for this blog, and those of you who have worked with me for the last few weeks know what I mean. I’m getting to it! But hang on while I throw a few other things at everyone today. I have SO’s review of The Hobbit, and I’ll intermingle mine with his. I have another post with thoughts on the New York premiere, which I wasn’t going to post, but I feel it needs to be said. Last (or maybe not :D), I have a post I’ve been sitting on since the day I started this blog. It may actually go up late tonight or very early tomorrow, which I realize is relative given many of you are not in the U.S. Whatever. It’s going up last and quite a few hours from now. And of course all of this is subject to change if I get a wild hair or we get a bombshell about Richard Armitage dropped on us. Just sayin’.
And I did not forget about SO’s Ode. He asked me not to publish it. The rat! He thinks it will offend, and although he’s not above being offensive on occasion, he doesn’t want to offend the Army. Don’t worry. I’m working on him. ;D
That’s all for now. I’ve got to head to church. Yes, I said church. Amazing that someone like me could darken the door of a church, but God has a sense of humor.
