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Dear Diary – This week we experienced our first heat wave of the summer. Temperatures soared into the mid-30s (celsius) and with humidity, felt like it was over 45! I was out briefly to water some plants and not a creature was stirring.It was too hot even to sit out in the shade with a book. I always worry about Eldest Son on super hot days because, not only is he working outside, his job is very physical and requires things like work boots and kevlar lined pants! On “Halo night”, our weekly online video game session, he confessed he felt like he needed a nap before he could drive home. But the car was too hot!

I sold some craft supplies on Facebook Marketplace and Youngest Son helped me put out the boxes for pickup. I forgot there were crayons in that box…

I love summer, and I prefer to be too hot over too cold. But that, that was bit much Mother Nature.

Dear Diary – We ordered pizza for Father’s Day from a respected chain, and it was the worst pizza I’ve ever had! Not only was it 50 minutes late, it was cold, dried out, and burnt. I called to complain when we hit the 1 hour-since-we-ordered mark, only to be put on hold by customer service. When she returned, she apologized. The store wasn’t answering the phone. I should have called to complain about the state of the pizza, but by that time, we were too hungry to care anymore.

Earlier in the week, I had surprised Hubby with California Sandwiches, a chain that closed in our area during covid. There just happened to be one at the plaza where I drove a friend to an appointment, so it was really a spur of the moment thing. The best part about these meatball sandwiches is they are the size of my head! I got 2 delicious meals out of mine, and Hubby…Hubby was…

Happy! Happy! Happy!

Phil Robertson

Dear Diary – Youngest Son is officially finished classes, but in lieu of exams, students were given a few days to complete outstanding assignments. Or that was the theory. Instead, a number of teachers have used the additional days to pile on more assignments.

Youngest Son is not impressed.

Dear Diary – I was watching a movie with Hubby and the young thing enters a room wearing only a lacy black bra and panties. Her skin is flawless; her stomach flat.

“I don’t think I ever looked like that?”, I said to Hubby.

“What,” says Hubby, “tall?”.

Dear Diary – This week I purchased a selfie stick, thinking it might be a useful tool for my taking photos for my business. Just the name “selfie” makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to be like the majority of sheep people who are obsessed with posting fabulous pics of their fabulous face, enjoying their fabulous life.

“Look at me! I have fabulous eyebrows and a Starbucks iced coffee. I’m driving toward a speeding freight train and I know how to use the Disney Princess sparkle filter! Don’t I look adorbs?”

Some might say I’m jealous of fabulous eyebrows, or people who do look adorbs with the Disney Princess sparkle filter. I know how to use the Disney Princess sparkle filter; I just choose not to! And I’m not saying it’s wrong to post cute pics – I do it too. I want people do see that at almost 50, I still weigh as much as a Backstreet Boy. But I post one now and then, not 105…an hour…

I played with my selfie stick for about 10 minutes one afternoon, and I admit…it’s harder than you think. Now I can capture a lot more unflattering angles than I did just using my own stumpy arms.

Rather than taking a selfie, I used my stick to take a photo of some really cute chicks!

Homemade Lime Chicken (sewing weights)!

You thought I was going to post a selfie, didn’t you?

Dare to be a sprinkle doughnut in a world of plain bagels.

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