Rosebud

I love Fridays, usually.

Our appointment with our tax advisor is this coming week. So today was mostly spent crunching numbers, sorting paperwork, and mildly grumbling. I have pulled together all the receipts and am still tallying expenditures that might be considered as tax deductions. In my world this activity does not get defined as fun. Hopefully the fun will come when the taxman tells us, we get a refund rather than owe Uncle Sam more.

I would have rather just looked at a rose. So I did. And for the third day in a row, the temperature topped at 81 degrees. I should have been sitting in the pool.

I hope you have a terrific Saturday.

Good night from Southern California,
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol

P.S. I forgot to mention that my email account was hacked -- when I opened it this morning I realized what had happened. So if you are one of the blippers that I have emailed with you probably received a weird crazy email from my account. I did NOT send it. So I've spent a bit too much of today sorting out this dilemma. I am reminded that technology is supposed to save us time. Yeah, sure!

P.P.S. Today I also found one of my handwritten journals from years ago. I purchased it and started writing in it as the two of us were sitting in the Portland Airport in June of '96 after spending a week on a paddle-wheeler on the Columbia River. I penned this stupid little poem at that moment. I should be embarrassed to include it here, but oh well:

I watch the tarmac multicolored
with the shade of Portland's clouds;
I know that fairytales come true
with the absence of wishing and the perseverance of a plan,
with the filling of a holiday account and the willingness to cash it in.