Oh, for goodness' sake. When Lyman's dad died, I didn't celebrate. But I did breathe a sigh of relief. No longer would putting up summer corn be an issue.

HA! Here I am now shuckin' and jivin' 'til I get this bushel of Silver King put into the freezer tonight.

A chip off the ole block, his boy. Charles Gore, the parrot, is just as bad. "Corn corn, corn."

And we went to Joe Patti's in Pensacola, Florida.

All these years, and this is the first visit I've made. Last trip Lyman made his first. Now it's a must. Tons of fish and shellfish of all kinds at good prices. Excellent breads. Desserts, deli salads, cheeses, pates, spices and sauces of all kinds. Wine and beer.

Highly recommended. Don't miss it.

Yeah, we went to beautiful Orange Beach a couple of days. No pictures. It looks the same.

We did have a spectacular lightning storm Monday night with great glaring bolts blazing down the sky while we were tucked into Grazie restaurant eating fried calamari and spinach salad.

A short bombshell of a bleached blond was seated in a window booth while we were there. She had a tiny little waist with flaring hips and double D's crammed into a low cut bright pink spandex sheath. She spent the first few minutes at the table settling her boobs to their best advantage. Must be new.

'Twould have been a miracle of nature to have grown those on that little frame. Girl gave Dolly Parton competition.

No, I didn't have a camera.

Lyman said later, "That girl looked like trouble with a capital T. She'll cost a man more than a little piece of his heart."

(I'm not a particularly censorious type. It was fussing about the decolletage that caught my eye. That, and I do like to sleep on my stomach sometimes.)

Aha! Finally. I found the next set of sheets that I'll buy.

I have looked all day for something like these

This morning I've been ridding this computer of the Scour search redirect virus. Where it came from, I don't know. Should it come to you, I used the instructions at PCHell. I seem to be okay for now.

Southern comfort in a bowl.

 Lyman made this a few weeks ago and I ate myself silly. He left out the sugar. We don't do sugar with greens in this house.

Needs a little tweaking, but I find the new template refreshing, and it carries the title theme well. The drives around here look much like the background.

All righty, I have downloaded an xml file from Echo which I should be able to import into Blogger to restore older comments.

When I try to import, I receive a bX-lyly16 server error.

Umm, does anyone know anything about that, or should I report it to Blogger?

I've Googled the problem and see some answers, but the heads don't go directly to the questions in Blogger support. They go to a page of categories where there are thousands of topics. How annoying and worthless.

Hmm. Looks like I need to adopt a new template to import comments and sort out issues. Maybe it's time.

And how do I insert a space between the "posted by" and the time-stamp?

So, what's with this new interface? Let's try an edit.

 If you'd care to watch penguins milling about, try the Penguin Cam. The webcam will operate through April.

Yikes!

I hope my brother and sister and their families are safe.

UPDATE: Affirmed.

I fell off the wagon there for a while, but I'm back to at least three days a week with yoga tapes. While I like yoga classes, my, ah, personal schedule doesn't really accommodate the offered times. It's embarassing to break wind in a gently flowing ladies' class with delicate and soothing music in the background.

And I find that it quiets Charles Gore down of a morning. He likes the music and finds my contortions amusing. I practice on the living room floor.

I do not have a tape of the sun salutation, which is basic practice. I have real problems bringing my feet back and forward in those movements into and out of the lunge pose, and I need to develop the rhythm for the various poses.

Lucy had a bath an hour ago:

Sunday, on an afternoon:

At the back of the lot the other Michael is running over the dirt track for the remote-controlled cars with his daughter's four-wheeler. Libby, our next-door-neighbor's Labrador has decided to follow.

Our son is practicing his electric guitar with his friend in the cabana.

Lyman and I are laying down weed-guard between rows of sturdy Roma tomato plants.

Mostly Cajun has put up a Spelling Test.

I ran across the Fashion-Incubator blog earlier today through Marginal Revolution and can't stop reading. Kathleen Fasanella is in the fashion industry.

Here's a sample.

Here's Kathleen on "monobutt" jeans.

The satsuma trees are blooming and the bees are buzzing busily.

It just crossed my mind.

My stepson has asked me about how to blog. So this is what we're doing.