I just  hate it when he yells.

It’s not like there isn’t anything to write about. There’s that never ending Malice in Blunderland called politics that provides endless subjects to place on virtual paper.

Big business and all their lying, cheating, stealing, money grubbing ways that brought the economy to it’s collective knees.

And the government that let them do it–again.

And there’s all sorts of new gadgets that I can’t afford that I could make up stories about as if I really owned one.

I could mindlessly rant on about the administration, congress, health care reform, the President, et al making all sorts of ridiculous, unfounded inferences, claims, attacks, innuendos and…

No, wait a minute…Fox News does that already.

And people! People (of which I’m one, I assure you) and their endless antics! There’s always something to write about people as they scurry about their lives, running into all sorts of trouble–or causing it.

Or perhaps I could bitch about the economy and how much I’ve lost in the past several months. I could except for the minor fact that I haven’t lost anything–I was poor before the economy went kablooey.

I know, I could write about getting older or about being a disabled vet who feels like he has to dismantle himself every night before he goes to bed and reassemble himself in the morning before breakfast. I could write about pills and hearing aids and partials and pills and doctors and pills and such. I could blather on about pain and methods of controlling it…

Bleh…

I’ve got it! Stories about the neighbors! That’s it! Stories about the neighbors! Stories about my nice boring neighbors who always have a smile handy, wave or say hello every time they see me and pretty much stay out of my hair for the rest of the time.

Or maybe the cats with all their ridiculous clownish ways chasing each other all over the house, hanging upside down from the ceiling, acting cute and loving one minute and clawing the flesh off my hand the next. Or how the litter box is a solid no man’s land of feline waste product  five minutes after it’s been thoroughly cleaned out.

Then there’s the automobile. There’s always something to write about those things isn’t there?

Well, I'm not a man appointed judge
To bear ill-will and hold a grudge
But I think it's time I said me a few choice words
All about that demon automobile
A metal box with the polyglass wheel
The end result to the dream of Henry Ford

(Name that tune why don’t ya’?)

Especially during the winter. Now, there’s a good old standby–the weather. I could write all sorts of sh…things about the weather and how cold it is and how much snow there is and how much I’m beginning to detest it and how long to Spring  and…and…and…

I could write about all this stuff!!

Oh…

…wait…

It seems I already did.

…

…

Never mind then.

Edit: Or I could possibly write about hitting the damn “Publish” button before I had finished making all my edits thus publishing a post “feed” full of typos…

Unfortunately, it’s really late and I need to get to bed so I’ll have to do some catching up tomorrow sometime. Sorry about that but ‘tis the season and all that.

I’ll be back…

Between getting things fixed on Laurie’s new-old car (replacing rusty gas tank plus new lines and broken tailgate latch), taking the bi-monthly trip to central Vermont, watching Laurie’s quilt shop, getting ready for shows and building my own Linux based desktop (well…kinda-sorta anyway), the old blog has been left out in the cold so to speak.

In the meantime, it’s been great to have all these things to do even though it still wipes me out at the end of the day and usually takes me another day to recover. I don’t mind though since it can only help push along my all-too-reluctant recovery from surgery I had this summer.

As much as I’d like to write up those 3 or 4 posts that have been circulating around my little pea brain for the past few days, I have to go mind the store for Laurie once again so she can come home and put together the stain glass sun catchers she needs for the weekend long show that’s coming up in a couple days.

And I’ll be minding the store Friday, Saturday and Sunday as well so next week looks about the earliest I’ll be able to put some effort into any post writing. That’s okay though…all in good time.

Nothing like the holiday season to keep one busy is there?

Nearly two years now since my disabilities forced me from the working class and you’d think I’ve become used to used to this new “life in the slow lane”—but I’m not. Sure, the effects of these disabilities, especially the one which recently required surgery, kept me down and out but it didn’t stop me from getting frustrated with the whole mess.

Now it’s down to taking the time to get back on my feet from the surgery itself. Once I do that I’ll have to bounce going back to work against progressive deafness and the increasing chronic pain due to a back injury (limits me to light labor only). This would be no problem if I was say about 230 miles farther south than I am since work opportunities there for my type of folks are much more plentiful shall we say than up here near the border of Canada even in this day and age. But up here I am and up here I stay so I’ll just have to deal with it when the time comes (there is plenty of advantages in living up here though, both present and future, aside from lack of employment opportunities).

The problem with combination of living here and the idea of possible employment is that this town has one of the highest unemployment rate in the state of Vermont (17.8%). The other problem is the majority jobs that are available often require heavy labor which leaves me right out of the picture. The other types of jobs require a CDL which I can’t get, being an adult supervisor to troubled kids/impaired adults with behavioral problems (uh…no thanks) or being a certified nurse (nope). I also don’t have a teacher’s certification and that about wraps it up for available jobs around here.

I’m not really belly aching about this as I still have a ways to go before I can even begin to consider working again but once in awhile I just have to get things of this nature off my chest and that’s what this blog’s all about.

In the meantime, I just wish it would stop raining long enough to let me finish mowing the lawn.

I suggest you head over there to see what’s not being said.