For Linda...

The Angel atop my Christmas Tree was made by my mum. It is a starched crochet creation, and consists of two pieces. The head and arms sit on the cone/wing combination.

This has been my tree topper for many years now, and has never needed new starch. I greatly enjoy moving the angels head and arms around, creating different moods as the season progresses.

The 'mood' shown in the photo is a combination of my two favorites: "Let's Rock!" and "Mosh Pit!" Yeah, I know. We don't celebrate Christmas like most families.

Verklempt

It all started with a random comment over at Tiff's place yesterday. The gist? My lawnmower is broken, and I am apparently attempting to create a copperhead/water moccasin refuge in my back yard.

Well. Less than 24 hours later, the residents of the Tiny House arrived at my house. With lawnmowers. Both Tiff and Biff are currently in my back yard (no small feat) mowing away. My utter joy and thanks for this act nearly has me speechless. Nearly.

Things 1 and 2 are in the living room, playing Wii golf with Nooze. She adores both of them, and is quite thankful for the company. This isan AWESOME Sunday, y'all!

Chachi is currently boiling bratwurst, preparing them for the grill. We also have chips, cola, random salads, fresh tomatoes...and a lot of ice. We simply can not have them leave without being fed.

Thank you, both. This is an act of kindness beyond measure.

A Pocket Full of Random...

I spent my morning in the office warehouse bay, throwing large stacks of old paperwork directly in to the dumpster. It was extremely cathartic.

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I was then TREATED to lunch by a good friend. We spent a little over an hour at an excellent Mediterranean joint not far from my office...

I had my Standby: Grilled Portobello wrap with Balsamic Vinegar! Mmmm...I'm hungry all over again, just thinking about it.

Turning a year older is wicked sweet.

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I spent my afternoon reviewing and deciphering paperwork for an upcoming installation. Any portion of my Soul not destroyed by the Headache of '08 may have been sacrificed.

Why?

Because said paperwork was sixteen pages long. Thankfully, EIGHT of the pages were typed by Spazz, my beloved assistant.

Sadly, the other eight pages were hand written. By Schlep the Salesman. In a pen that was trying to die, yet seemingly unable to do so.

Said paperwork was then highlighted within an inch of its life...in random shades of blue, pink, yellow and green...noting what material went where in the Gargantuan House.

Also? Schlep the Salesman's handwriting can only be described as "Crackhead with the Shakes".

That was two hours of my life that I will NEVER get back.

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I then headed to Physical Therapy, where my progress was cheered and high-fived (figuratively).

I then endured one of the most painful sessions yet. Said session involved the grinding of a muscle (QL? Minimus?) that was desperately trying to slip in between my hip socket and the thigh bone that goes into it. AGAIN.

I gritted my teeth and muttered, "Dude. Don't take this personally...BUT YOU REALLY SUCK!"

BT took this all in stride and answered mildly, 'Yep. I've heard that one before. Just don't kick me, okay?'

Then he proceeded to change the subject by asking "What's the most horrifying movie you have ever seen?"

This gave me pause, as I have seen many movies that have horrified me for one reason or another.

He waited until I said "Hmmm..." and continued.

"I had this discussion with (co-worker) earlier. I voted for I Spit on Your Grave*, and (co-worker) was convinced I made the movie up!"

I chimed in "Yeah, that was a pretty nasty movie."

He then asked for my vote in the grossest death category [Definitely the guy disemboweled by the outboard motor boat. BT chose the Bathtub Guy.]

This discussion was followed by his triumphant comment: "I knew, that if ANYONE had seen it, it'd have to be you!"

I wasn't really sure how to take that.

*In my defense, I was in my 20s, in college, and likely well in to a bottle of Cuervo 1800 when I watched it.
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I am taking a small step back in the Stern, Professional Boss category.

For one day.

Tomorrow, Destrukto will close for lunch for what is being hailed as "Peace, Love, and Pot Luck".

We are bringing comfort foods, turning off our phones, and hanging out for an hour.

If Spazz has her way, we will spend the entire time listening to Enya. And probably chanting.

No worries.

Boss 1 and Big Boss are springing for the paper goods. They have ALSO signed off on the purchase of Butcher Paper and crayons...and maybe even stickers. [Thanks to my pal R. and the BT for these excellent ideas!]

They are giving me the company credit card to buy this stuff.

I would LOVE to see the look on the Comptroller's face when she reads the charge list!
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Oh, and that headache? Still here, but to a lesser degree. I think my body's simply gearing up for my Fall Voice...

HO-LEEE CRAP!

If you are preparing to physically alter your own body, am I the one you'd seek for advice?

Rich may not have sought me out, but he listened to my opinion.

And then he followed through.

I am, quite frankly, speechless.

Suck it up, people. It doesn't happen often.

For Tracy Lynn

In the Andean Mountains of Bolivia, giving someone a beat down is a matter of religious obligation. Generally celebrated in February, Tinku is the ritual beating of a neighbor in the name of a great harvest.

Legend has it that Pachamama, the goddess of fertility and harvesting (?) required that blood literally be spilled on the ground to ensure a successful crop.

Sounds like an average day at the office to me.

For a most excellent video of the Tinku ritual, click here. The music is a little rough - and will likely not be SFW.