That One Place

We're going to that one place tomorrow. You know that place, the one with the people and the guys and the girls and the stuff. Yeah, that's the one.
I have a new boss. The company re-organized the regional managers. I don't think anything bad happened to Pam. I think she just got re-assigned. My new boss came by today. Her name is Robin. I don't know how old she is. She told me she was in her early thirties. I think she looks at least forty. I learned from her that someone has actually been calling the Salvation Army's divisional headquarters complaining about me and how I run this place. Among her complaints were that I didn't clear the sidewalks and that there were roaches. Both of these were news to me because I do indeed clear and salt the sidewalks. It is also readily apparent to everyone here that pest control comes once a month to spray, and at that time, we ask if anyone has seen any bugs. No one has claimed to see anything more significant than a spider. If there are roaches, I will gladly call the exterminator for more severe action. I think Robin saw that I was genuinely baffled.
The bug guy came today. He sprayed the apartments. We didn't hear about any roaches.
Daisy is at the in-laws' while we are gone to that one place.
Howie and Chief are going to hang out here and guard the apartment.
Robin also has a dog named Daisy.
Robin has twin three-year olds.
We're taking Anna's mother's car to that one place because it is new and hopefully more trustworthy than the Exploder.
Blue.
We've been cleaning the apartment so that it's clean when we get back.
I have no idea when we will leave tomorrow because I don't yet know how far we are planning on going.
The ten day forecast for that place is calling for high sixties to low seventies. I need to bring shorts.
If you're lucky, Anna might post some pictures of that place when we come home.
If you aren't lucky, Anna will post some pictures of my butt when we come home.
There's not much worse in life than inhaling kitty litter dust.
I made a cheesecake the other night. I made whipped cream to go with it. It's a wickedly good combination. There are a couple pieces left. Anna and I need to finish them before we leave.
Anna's mother is going to teach the children's church lesson on Sunday. It's going to be on day three of creation (land and plants). Anna found some tiny little seed planting kits for these tiny little strawberries. The kids are each going to get to plant their own.
You wish Anna had taught your children's church.
It just occurred to me that Anna and I had a really nice cooler in which we could have taken drinks and such on our trip. But I don't actually know for sure where this cooler is. Anna's sister might have it.
"Now we lie awake/with shut eyes/so to forever forget this." Some albums are just transcendent.
I don't know what I am right now.
People who read our blog: Some person from England.
Somebody from England found our blog by searching '"my contact lenses" OR "my contacts" OR "my glasses" OR "my spectacles" site:blogspot.com.' Yeah, I have no idea what they were trying to accomplish. They must be insane. All people in England must be insane. They drink tea. That can't be healthy. They drink tea and eat candy. They also don't care about their teeth. And that have that weird "stiff uppper lip" disease (that must make for some awkward kissing). Can you think of any other crazy generalizations about the snobby British? I did once see a poll conducted on Brits, asking for things that made them British. Apparently, a penchant for standing in lines is the only thing you need to be British. Insane, I tell you. Insane.