Well, it has been a day full of laundry around here. There are just two of us, so I wonder how we generate so many dirty clothes. We both have office jobs. It is not like we root around in the dirt like Mole Man chasing the Fantastic Four or anything.
Before all that started, I did decide to head into town to have breakfast. The first plate of my brekky buffet consisted of a mound of scrambled eggs and bacon. The vegetable on the side was hash browns. I smartened up after that; the second plate was much more sensible.
I touched down in Bayers Lake after that, alighting at the XS Cargo. I wanna get a couple sound bars: one for the cottage and one for my mother's. The one I wanted isn't there, but has been replaced by a newer model. Both models have a built-in FM radio, which is pretty neat to have. They both also have Bluetooth and a couple of inputs on them that make them very versatile. The earlier model that I have in the recroom next door has pretty good sound for a 50 dollar device. The newer model has a visual display so you can see what station you're on as opposed to guessing.
I ended up not getting the sound bar. Will wait for pay day. Don't have to store them in the house that long either.
I was going to start working in earnest on my latest column for Frank Magazine, but I am glad I didn't. A source wrote me this afternoon to tell me of an upcoming CRTC announcement regarding Halifax radio. I want to look into this a bit more before I record it for the column.
In meeting with my editor a few days ago, I have been told I can free up the format of the column. I can run mini interviews. I can rant a bit more. I don't have to be unrelentingly positive. I can work in a bit more humour. I don't have to edit it as intensely as I did the first column. I can let my glorious hair down a smidge. So I will.
Patricia returns to the house sometime Sunday afternoon. I have promised her to make the place look better by the time she gets back. Will she notice a difference? Hard to say. She has woman's eye sight, which means that she notices every fleck of grime, every iota of dirt, every minuscule dust bunny. I notice far less of that. I am not a woman. I am a boy. Specifically, I am a Bevboy.
Say, a friend of mine is going through a hard time. He is one of the original 4.7. His name is Ben Passanando. He and his family live in Idaho. One night he googled something about the old "Strange Luck" tv show that starred D.B. Sweeney and found me, and became a regular reader, eventually leaving many comments on many posts. He found me because I had written a blog post partially about that 20 year old show.
Ben has had very significant medical issues over the years, and things have come to a head. If you believe in prayer, please pray for him. If, at the very least, you believe in positive thoughts, then think a couple of them for him, please. He is a young man with a young family, who wants to be an old man with an old family. Let's all hope that this happens. Ben is one of the really good ones.
Here is a link to a Facebook event. I hope you take a moment on the 17th and reflect on this remarkable man.
See you tomorrow.