Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.

 Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net

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» Saturday, June 06, 2015
Three Are Better Than One

First up: eight hours sleep. Very important. Unfortunately, I was very restless last night, tormented with dreams of things left undone, and, conversely, things done, ones that lay the foundations for other things.

Well, that's suitably cryptic. Let's get on to the day: awakened, walked the dog, grabbed a Belvita bar for breakfast. It was supposed to be 88°F today and I wanted to get to Sam's Club early. But first, took three Xerox paper boxes full of "stuff" to Goodwill: slippers that won't fit, two old antennas, a pillow for James that didn't work, ending with Mom's old television along with its converter box.

At Sam's we looked at sound bars, but didn't buy. Our 20 (?—maybe older) year old receiver is about to die—if we watch some movie, for example, and the music reaches a big crescendo, or if there's an explosion, the receiver will just turn itself off—and we're looking at a replacement, but in a rather desultory fashion. We were actually there for milk, $2.29/gallon, and a bag of Skinny Pop; also nabbed ibuprofin and omeprazole, and a couple of other items.

Then we came home for the afternoon. I copied off all but two episodes of Locke and vacuumed out the now cleared-of-junk spare room (except for the Christmas gifts that are slowly piling up in corners). I couldn't get the remainder done because the vet had called James yesterday and said Tucker needed his shots. I was flabbergasted; I thought he'd gotten all his shots in March when we boarded him and Snowy for Atomicon. Anyway, we got there, waited for a while and Tucker schmoozed with an elderly lady. Then we cooled our heels in the exam room while they took samples and gave shots, and then Dr. Mike came in and chatted with us for a while. He said there was no medical reason for Tucker's recent sexual interest in his blanket. Okay. Then we either stop him when he does it or just look the other way.

Since we were just on the other side of a building from the Dunwoody Sprouts, guess where we went to get supper. I got a large container of chicken noodle soup, two chocolate chip muffins for dessert, some apple wheatberry couscous, and about a quarter pound, if that much, of the dark chocolate covered honeycomb candy. Next Wednesday we get our Sprouts! Next Thursday I want Italian wedding soup for supper!

And, then, unbelievably, as we savor our soup:

First Triple Crown winner in 37 years! American Pharoah has joined Secretariat, War Admiral, Whirlaway, and their compatriots in having won the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness Stakes, and the Belmont Stakes. It was a beautiful run: pre-race the horse looked relaxed and interested, his ears flicked forward to the track, and during the race, his jockey held him just ahead of the next fastest horse until they started to emerge from the last curve, and then he had his head and ran like an angel. He barely looked winded as they walked him back.

Spending the rest of the evening watching Tucker sleep (just exhausted from investigating the vet's office and "getting shot") and The Big Picture With Kal Penn. (Maybe Star Talk afterwards.)

A funny: when I took Tucker out an hour ago, he went into hysterics over something on the street. It turns out that the grey-and-white cat that hangs around the neighborhood has become a mother: I counted three grey-and-white kittens. Triple Crown and three kittens.

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