So, I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while. Since at least June 27, when I found my friend the frog hiding in my shoe again, on the first workday morning of my vacation. That morning, I shook my shoe as I always do, in case there’s something cold blooded in it. Then I felt the frog, and I grabbed my camera and snapped the following shots …
"Aww, what the hell, I was dreaming of fireflies." "You can't see me. I'm a shoe. You don't look that tough, anyway." "You really don't mind if I go back to sleep? Don't mind if I do ..." "That's right. This is my shoe." "And as such, I'm gonna reclaim it." "It's all mine." "Seriously. Whatcha gonna do about it?" "See. Mine. All Mine. Goodnight." "That's what I'm talking about. A nice sleep in my shoe home. Zzzzz...""Awww, c'mon ... why'd you go and shake me out of the shoe again?" "Does this look like the face of a happy frog? I'll get you next time."
And then, on July 10, as I was preparing to mow the lawn early in the morning before it got too hot, I found the frog in my shoe again. So I grabbed my good camera and captured the following …
"You'll never find me over here, where I blend in perfectly.""Bring it." "You got a lot of nerve waking me up like that, pal.""That's right, you best step back." "Yes, you are being shunned."
Under intense pressure from somebody who shall remain nameless, the wedding website has been kicked into orbit for your viewing pleasure, complete with photographs taken by ace photographer Pin Lim during our engagement shoot in May.
Archive photo from July 22, 2007 : Today, when I picked Corina up for dinner, she asked if we were going to go get pizza, in that kind, not-really-asking tone. Why the hell not?
Here’s a bunch of links I’ve found interesting this week.
Check out the comments for me heckling the Outlaw Designer about his spelling : http://www.outlawdesignblog.com/2009/talking-shop-episode-getting-published/#comment-8132
JQuery Awesomeness :http://flowplayer.org/tools/index.html : Found via new Mozilla’s Open Web Tools Directory : http://tools.mozilla.com/ : And, don’t forget : http://jquery.com/
“Everyday baby, when the sun goes down, I get with the fellows I begin to clown, I don’t care what the people are thinking, I ain’t drunk, I’m just drinking!” : http://blog.kir.com/archives/2009/07/albert_collins.asp
Kim and I in front of the Guadalupe River, just paces away from our Bed and Breakfast at Prince Solms Inn. The trip included, of course, a pilgrimage to Gruene.
“He tortured me with his awfulness” -Michael, on Toby, from THE OFFICE episode “Goodbye, Toby.”
It’s been a while since I posted, and that’s because I’ve been on vacation. I don’t blog on my days off. And for good reason. What’s a day off if you have to tend to your normal obligations? I also didn’t water the lawn during a few days of my vacation – and you know what? – it didn’t matter. Now the grass is higher than ever and it looks like I’ll be pushing the mower sometime this weekend at daybreak, the only reasonable time during this heat wave.
It was five weeks ago when I started my new daily blogging experiment. In post numero cuatro, I briefly touched on why I started blogging again: My need to achieve global dominationwidespread notoriety have an excuse not to do the dishes.
Of course, that was my intention by restarting my blog and vowing to myself to make a post every (week)day for as long as I can keep it up. (I’ve been meaning to mention this – but wanted to give myself a little wiggle room to flake out first, but, whoops, it’s out now.)
Of course, this blog post isn’t about my blogging hobby; it’s about a hobby that’s closer to my heart. Fixing my car. By throwing massive amounts of cash at it. On Monday, my 2003 PT Cruiser with 118,000 miles started driving a little weird … it was as if the automatic transmission couldn’t find its second gear.
Getting it going was hard work and it would slip all over the place until it got above 45 miles per hour. At 60, it was smooth sailing. I was so concerned, I took Kim on a test drive around the neighborhood that night, but the car’s symptoms weren’t as exacerbated as I experienced on my drive home.
So on Tuesday, June 23, I was driving to work, minding my own business when I got on the freeway to find that my stupid car wouldn’t drive faster than 45 degrees. It was struggling. And that infuriated the rednecks who zipped past me, nearly killing us all. I was able to get to a (rare) turnaround, point my car in the direction of my current auto repair shop of choice, and I slammed on the gas. The rednecks heading that way hated that, too. I called Kim and told her to meet me at the shop. And then, 15 minutes later, I got there, which was about 5 miles away.
I left the damn thing there, at Roy’s Auto Repair, 5050 Highway 36 in Rosenberg. It was like almost 7 a.m., and they don’t open until 8 a.m. I started calling them around 9 a.m., didn’t get ahold of Roy until after 11 a.m. and he said he’d take a look at it and get back to me. Later that afternoon, I called and he said the transmission was shot. He said he could rebuild it in three days for A Lot of Freakin’ Money But Much Less than What I Was Expecting to Be Charged. But he said he believed in his work so much, he’d guarantee it with a two-year warranty, when he normally only offers a one-year guarantee. I agreed.
Over the next week, I wasn’t able to get a hold of Roy the few times I tried. His staff was there, and they kept me briefed on the progress. Then I went on vacation. He called Tuesday, June 30, when I was in San Antonio, the car was ready. He said it was “No problem” that I’d be back Thursday.
When Roy called to say the car was ready, it was cocktail hour at the Drury Inn and Suites in San Antonio along the Riverwalk.
When I test drove the car, it was like a whole other vehicle. So I told him as much, “Man, that’s the best that car’s ever driven.” Best I know is that Roy may not be the best communicator, but he runs one hell of a great repair shop, and I trust him. There’s nothing better than finding a mechanic one can trust when one’s hobby is throwing massive amounts of money at one’s ride.
Oh, and Kim “Anne” Kovar let the (wo)man have it today in her comment.
