OK, so it didn’t take me this long to eat lunch; I’ve had some other things to do, and wanted to let the first post settle a bit. Since I got that all out, some of my urgency has abated, though I still want to tie the subject up, until/unless there are comments where we can discuss and enjoy however long we want.

Lunch was brunch. My plate was frambled eggs with toast. I know I said it wasn’t a cooking post, and look what I’m doing. When I make frambled eggs, I cook the eggs as if for over-easy (yolks runny, whites cooked.) Turn the eggs when it’s time, let them get a bit of heat on that side, then gently drag your spatula through, to break the yolk and drag the white through the yolk. My personal goal is not a hard-cooked yolk, but what I guess they call a jammy yolk; you get a bit of liquid, even, but it’s not drippy. You just keep gently lifting and turning until you like the consistency of the eggs. I had whole wheat toast, and oatmeal that I apple-pie spiced, and sweetened with honey. We’ve been having a rain “event,” so I’d got the laundry to the laundry room to run and to dry between/before rains.

Our laundry room is at the front of our front carport, front being the direction the front end of the car points; we park in front of the laundry room. Our house is a whole post in and of itself, but not quite as Scottie’s and Ron’s house; they may run theirs by crisis and we rarely have a crisis, but their house is nicer and more modern than ours. Also, while Sat. and Sunday are fitness rest days, I still do 10 min. every hour on the rebounder to get my steps. So, lunch hour took a little while. It’s a rest day! 😎 And the first day of Standard time, so everything’s a little later because our bio clocks are still running on Saving time. 🕰

So, up till the 15th of October, I was all,

FoxTrot by Bill Amend for November 03, 2024

But I’m past that, and have said enough about the election, really, I think. I don’t know who can’t use a Calvin fix, so:

Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson for November 03, 2024

I wonder if everybody has that one or two commercials that the last time it airs cannot come too soon. For me, right now, (and I know the winter holidays commercials are coming…) it’s that Wegovy commercial. I just want it to stop. Interestingly, while I’m not a big fan of Big Pharma, one of the ads I enjoy, all its versions, is the Jardiance ad! It makes me dance. Well, the newest one’s tempo is too slow for fun dancing, but it’s still a nice ad. This is neither a plug for or against either drug. Those have their place and may be discussed with a person’s doctor. This is just about the ads. The ones that use music from my youth especially tick me off, so I just ignore them and dance to their background music. I hate that King Harvest’s “Dancin’ in the Moonlight” is one that’s been appropriated. It’s been one of my top favorites forever, and they can’t take it away from me!

I turned all the clocks back last night, except one. But our son came out, noticed, and said, “Aren’t we supposed to turn the clocks back? The bathroom clock is an hour fast.” Truly, I’d turned the clocks up. I find the semi-annual time change abhorrent and stupid, but I disdain Saving time the most, because there goes another hour of my life, every year, that doesn’t come back, not really, so I guess changing the clock put me in a negative mindset and I went the wrong way. Anyway, it’s been enough years of my life now that I don’t care which we have, we simply need to pick one and be done. I don’t change the analog clock in the kitchen; it’s over the kitchen table, and I can’t reach it unless I stand on the kitchen table. Some day there could be a reason for me to stand on the kitchen table, but I’m not doin’ it to change the damn clock. The guys will get tired of it sooner or later, and I have the stove clock. And my Fitwitch on my wrist.

Well, that’s a sort of round up of trivia and drift. I hope readers have enjoyed it, at least smiled or giggled, and maybe feel a little better.

We can do this stuff. It’s still way too early to let Republicanism mess with our mental health.