But no gallstones. Or kidney stones. Or the subject of thrown stones. At least, not yet.
The thunderstorms have been lining up like jets in approach. Wham. Bam. Crash. Wonder how much more this little house can take. At least last night’s fireworks didn’t crush my newly planted tomatoes.
A few milestones to recognize today:
The Sundries Shack is almost five years old and proprietor Jimmie is a birthday boy! Stop by and celebrate.
Another reason to save some energy and turn off the Tube. And park the jet for the day.
The Anchoress is movin’ on up in the religious writing world. Congrats!
Charles Johnson is beginning to need his own Terror Alert Status. Pammy? Really? Who’s next, my grandma?