Thursday

The internet is of the Devil


I tell you what, if this internet is of the Devil, I just about don't care because I've having a ball. Reminds me of that old song that goes, "If loving you is wrong, I don't wanna be right."

And to think, not one week ago, if I'd had a hammer (now, there's another song that'll be echoing through my head all day long, now that I've thought of it!) I would have laid into this computer and smashed it into smithereens.

It just goes to show that every now and again, in certain rare circumstances, I can be wrong, a fact which my kids Lou Ann and Terry Wayne think they have to remind me of two or three times a week.

Well, just to show you how much I've got into this: Delores stepped over here this morning for our eight o'clock cup of Eight O'Clock coffee, walked right in the side door to the kitchen, and hollered out to me and I didn't even hear, so busy was I peck peck pecking here at this keyboard and staring into this screen.

Oh, wait a minute, now the phone's ringing off the hook! Hello! It's Betty from over at the church. I'll get back to this soon as the two of us chew each others' ears for a few minutes. I promised a recipe, and I don't make a promise I can't keep. Try not to, anyhow. Stay tuned.