Fleetingly Carol

About a month ago, I heard a funny noise coming from the outside of my car as I was driving down the Interstate. It went thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! I slowed down and the thmping stopped. Something was loose, but I didn't know what. By the time I arrived home, I had forgotten all about it. Until the next day, that is. On my way to work, I heard it again - thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! As I slowed down, I made a mental note to check it out as soon as I got to work. It turned out to be the gasket that surrounds the windshield, it had come loose and was flapping in the wind. I pushed the gasket back into place, making another mental note to drive home by a route other than the Interstate and to take it to the repair shop to have it fixed as soon as I could. A couple of weeks later Old Man asked if I had the windshield fixed. Of course I hadn't. Dear Reader, don't you just hate it when you are treated like a child? That's what I felt like when Old Man told me to get i

I just called time and temp . . . it's 95 degrees. The online weather service says it's 98, with 45% humidity, which translates into a heat index of 102! I don't know the math behind all that, I just know what I read online and report. I'm reporting because I have a dog who thinks the house is too cold. How do I know what my dog is thinking? Well, read the story, then tell me what you think she's thinking: It's 2:00 p.m. and I am happily ensconced in my airconditioned house, doing the usual, surfing the Internet, pretending I'm getting something done around the house so that Old Man doesn't do one of his eye-rolls when he comes home from work. Girlie-girl Dog gets up from her fluffy pink bed to tip-toe over to me and begin the Wee-wee Dance. It's really cute, y'all. Girlie-girl is a small black dog, so when she begins to dance her black nails beat a distinct fast-paced rhythm on the tile floor. But, I also know what this means - she wants me