Friday, July 13, 2018

Can You Believe The All Star Break is Next Week?

This is a typical shot of my cousin Susie with her back to the camera dancing with a friend who has impeccable taste in baseball teams.
Go Susie, go Blue. Number One on the dance floor and Number One in the NL West.
And heartfelt sympathies for our friends across the pond (on both counts but we love the Trump Baby, can we trade).

Susie comes from a family of rabid Brewers fans (also somehow Number One) so no face shot for you

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Blowing Into Wednesday

I'm not saying that everything has been giving me a headache lately but it does seem as if my neighbor's psycho little beast has been barking nonstop while trying to claw its way through the door for the past three years.
So here's some wind that blows more sweetly, welcome to the middle of the week.

Definitely the former

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Mezzo Sopranos and Banana Cream Pie

I came across performances from Die Fledermaus on the grass outside the University Bookstore today. I only had my pocket camera but by hook or crook just have a look have a look!

Digging the shadow character in the window, but where is he walking, he's got no feet

(Apologies for the previous iMovie the size of a postage stamp)

This city can be downright delightful sometimes but I've got to say, "What the actual #$@!, University Bookstore?" your "book" "section" has been relegated to the very back of the "store" and shares dimensions with the matches and toilet paper aisle at the gas station.

Notice there are already specs of pie on the book cover

I found something poolside worthy hiding behind a row of Cheesehead wedges and rubble of Badger memorabilia, so I may eat my way through this series if the first one is good, mmm, summer reading. 

Sunday, July 1, 2018


I might not be the beer drinker I once was, but I still appreciate a good pour and a lively toast so here's hoping the neighborhood fireworks don't keep you up too late, you keep your fingers, hands, and face and the heat doesn't make you too irate.

Here's to a good pour, a back door and a cool floor.

May we get what we want, may we get what we need, but never may we get what we deserve.

May you be in heaven an hour before the devil knows you're dead (for my dad and The Irish Aunts, which would make a great name for a band).

One pitcher for the four of us giving thanks there are no more of us.