I so don't have time for blogging, because I really should be showering and heading off to the salon for hair, nails, wax, and makeup. Then it's off in a private jet to the Oscars. What if I don't make it to the red carpet on time? Will Oprah worry if I'm late?
Who am I fooling?
Nobody. Tonight Buck is working and I may catch a moment or two of the buzz on the tv in my bedroom. In January I picked Crash as my nomination for best picture to the Academy though I haven't seen Walk the Line. I do like Reese Witherspoon. And since Brokeback Mountain isn't out on dvd yet, Helen and I haven't had the chance to put the kids to bed, drink just a tad too much 47 Pound Rooster, and snark sarcastically and inappropriately in the privacy of one of our homes watching. I'm quite certain the two of us would be kicked out of a theater. Then again, maybe we'll like it and not even hint at rudeness. I'll let you know.
Off to consider peeling potatoes for dinner. Thanks to the rain, I don't have to water the garden. Such a life of glamour.
The Minister Who Invented Camping in America - William H. H. Murray was a wealthy Congregationalist minister and an outdoors enthusiast. Every summer he went to the Adirondack Mountains, often with hi...
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