Here I sit in the Palace on a cold, soggy Saturday afternoon, smoking a cigar and sipping ice tea from a tall frosty glass.
Early in the day I noticed all the dandelions that, yesterday, adorned the yard like a bright yellow sun were closed up tighter than a morning glory at midnight, so I took some pictures, then went back in out of the rain and had a 7 o'clock slice of toast for breakfast.
Most of the morning was devoted to preparing a pork roast for the smoker and getting the hot tub warmed up, interrupted by many opportunities to hike up the hem of my robe and priss my way, like an old time school girl trying to keep her petticoat from dragging in the Lux flakes on the dance floor, through the glistening wet grass and small puddles of mud on the path to my walleye fishing spot on the dock.
By 11 o'clock my body was begging for a fat, giant, juicy barbequed burger, but I successfully diverted that diet devil temptation into a bowl of shredded cabbage topped with shredded smoked sucker and shredded cheddar cheese, doused gently with a creamy salad dressing.
"Yum yum," I said to myself, shaking my head in wonder, and rolling my eyes as I later lowered myself into the warmth of the hot tub wearing nothing but a hat and singing, "I like it like that," feeling toasty as a roasted peanut and winking back at the wavy lake flirting shamelessly with me.
Eventually, I saw that the dandelions were recuperating and shining once more through the dullness of the rainy day. They beckoned me to climb out of my watery happy place and take their pictures.
Still clucking my tongue and making little mouth gestures, my exit from the hot tub seemed like the right opportunity to make an adjustment to my 11 o'clock brunch delicacy. "Maybe if I smoke a cigar it'll take the taste of that cabbage concoction away," I said to myself.
So, that's why I took this rare picture of myself drinking ice tea. My wine and single malt scotch are locked away for this weekend, and my funny eating adventures are necessary as I wrestle with the damn diet devils right now.
Doing pretty good, though, and I'll win this match today and tomorrow. The first camp weekend, where every vice and everything nice is part of the wonderful program, needs a shake-up for a new regime.
Incidently, I just checked my web cam at the house and saw my little squirrel friend Alfie desperately looking for sunflower seeds on the deck. I forgot to leave food out for him. Ha, ha, Alfie. Join the club. See you tomorrow night.
Early in the day I noticed all the dandelions that, yesterday, adorned the yard like a bright yellow sun were closed up tighter than a morning glory at midnight, so I took some pictures, then went back in out of the rain and had a 7 o'clock slice of toast for breakfast.
Most of the morning was devoted to preparing a pork roast for the smoker and getting the hot tub warmed up, interrupted by many opportunities to hike up the hem of my robe and priss my way, like an old time school girl trying to keep her petticoat from dragging in the Lux flakes on the dance floor, through the glistening wet grass and small puddles of mud on the path to my walleye fishing spot on the dock.
By 11 o'clock my body was begging for a fat, giant, juicy barbequed burger, but I successfully diverted that diet devil temptation into a bowl of shredded cabbage topped with shredded smoked sucker and shredded cheddar cheese, doused gently with a creamy salad dressing.
"Yum yum," I said to myself, shaking my head in wonder, and rolling my eyes as I later lowered myself into the warmth of the hot tub wearing nothing but a hat and singing, "I like it like that," feeling toasty as a roasted peanut and winking back at the wavy lake flirting shamelessly with me.
Eventually, I saw that the dandelions were recuperating and shining once more through the dullness of the rainy day. They beckoned me to climb out of my watery happy place and take their pictures.
Still clucking my tongue and making little mouth gestures, my exit from the hot tub seemed like the right opportunity to make an adjustment to my 11 o'clock brunch delicacy. "Maybe if I smoke a cigar it'll take the taste of that cabbage concoction away," I said to myself.
So, that's why I took this rare picture of myself drinking ice tea. My wine and single malt scotch are locked away for this weekend, and my funny eating adventures are necessary as I wrestle with the damn diet devils right now.
Doing pretty good, though, and I'll win this match today and tomorrow. The first camp weekend, where every vice and everything nice is part of the wonderful program, needs a shake-up for a new regime.
Incidently, I just checked my web cam at the house and saw my little squirrel friend Alfie desperately looking for sunflower seeds on the deck. I forgot to leave food out for him. Ha, ha, Alfie. Join the club. See you tomorrow night.
