Monday, May 26, 2008

Well Throw Me a Lance and Call Me Quixote

Despite a rash of railroad related work that absolutely took over Sunday and promises to wipe out this day as well, I, Fabiola, am planning a cook-out. Ok, not so much planning as counting on because Fabiola defrosted hamburger on Saturday and has to do something with it today.

Fabiola is counting on thunderstorms. They threaten, because they do, they also promise, maybe, enough time away from convincing hundreds of pounds of steel to arrange itself in a way that won't send additional tons of steel careening off into the dirt -- or a tree.

Oh, dear! You my darlings do not come here to listen to Fabiola complaining. Not that Fabiola ever complains. Tilting at windmills, now that is another issue entirely. An activity that allows a gal to wear shiny silver and carry a weapon.


Anonymous said...

Oh no -- like the Fab's complaints -- full blown rants a special treat...

Fabiola (or Mary or Both) said...

Dear Anony, Fabiola will just have to work herself into a hissy-spaz over something real soon!