One of the many, many indicators of Mojo's saintlike benevolence is her ability to indulge her Favorite Husband in his occasional lapses in good taste. Not always; he has been known to go to the movies all by himself if Mojo deems something too stupid even for HER. It is a judgment call; Mojo, for example, did NOT want to go to the first "TRANSFORMERS" movie, no, not one little bit, yet somehow whimsically decided at the last minute to go--or was somehow talked into it by the silver-tongued devil she married.  MORE Mojo! »

I just found out (yeah, Mojo's ALWAYS late to the party) that I made the float again over at the Comics Curmudgeon's COTW. My finalist-winning entry involves a baffling mixture of Mary Worth and Greek mythology. For those of you too darn lazy to click on any of the above links and search for "mojo" (Yeah, I know, it took me two days to get around to it myself) I said the following:

“My growing suspicion that Wilbur Weston has never actually had sex in his life has since led me to suspect that Dawn actually sprang, fully formed, from his forehead. Which would explain the comb-over.”

I'm sorry. I fully intended to never mention Mary Worth again, but making the float is a rare honor for me. One of these days I hope to maybe make the full-fledged COTW, but the competition is so awesomely stiff--there's some funny, funny people over there, plus most of 'em can WRITE--I'm guessing that will probably never happen. But I enjoy trying!

Back to work!

Mojo

Mojo finally feels she is ready for winter. The shed is full of firewood, finally out of the rain and drying for the first time in two months. The remaining cord or so we managed to finagle our neighbor to take. He broke his back this summer and got behind on his firewood, yadda yadda yadda. So we spent most of Sunday moving this cord or so with two pickup trucks and three people and two dogs flinging sticks about. Okay, so maybe the two dogs weren't much help, since Mojo spent much of her time ordering "No! Drop it! DROP it!" whenever there was a lull in the conversation.

About half way through it started sleeting, which actually made the work sort of pleasant. I would have preferred plain ol' snow, but sleet has that eerie hiss that I can sort of get into. Plus you don't get all that wet, since it just bounces off of you. It was a snow and sleet mixture, but it was also a reminder for all of us to get this wood under a roof somewhere so that it could dry out before he uses it. We've been taking cold wet pieces from the pile and putting them in the stove, which helps it burn longer, but it doesn't burn so hot in the thermal meaning of the word. Plus on those rare occasions we neglected it until we pretty much had to start over....forget it. Starting a fire with cold, wet wood is not something I would wish on anyone.

We also collected two big garden carts full of chips for starting the fire. One was dumped in the three-season room to dry, the other was left in the cart and put out under the carport to (hopefully) dry. Since the stove goes like gangbusters it's rare we need kindling, but if we do we finally got some.

I still think I want to buy a battery backup for the stove fan. But it's not as critical, so I've been holding off.

Life is good....

Mojo

In honor of her 45th birthday today, since you know darn well no one else is going to do it properly, or even care enough....

How old are you now
How old are you now
A youthful 45
How old are you now

How long will you read
How long will you read
If I keep on typing
How long will you read

So where have you been
So where have you been
We missed you dear Mojo
So where have you been

 MORE Mojo! »