Too Bad My Epilady is Jammed...

Tired, sore… worked in the yard yesterday, off and on (mostly on) over the course of about 12 hours, I managed to injure my lower back a little, pull both hamstrings, get scratched up, and discover that if you get dry concrete in your hair and then sweat all day you end up with an interesting mess to wash at the end of the day.

Kelli matched me step for step working on some landscaping out front. Tired, sore… but the feeling of accomplishment is quite rewarding.

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We had lunch at Double Dave’s yesterday, where we saw a big bodybuilder guy.

He was dressed as a woman, complete with blonde wig, miniskirt, purse, sandals… No idea exactly what was going on there, but he wasn’t playing it for yuks.

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The Sycamore house (the three story affair I mentioned before) won’t go away.

Here’s what’s sticking in our craw: If we play this right with a low enough offer, get a good price on our house… we’d actually walk into Sycamore with a nice fistful of cash for remodeling.

We just don’t know if it’s enough.

Kelli’s cousin has built a house and done a ton of his own remodeling. We’re hoping to send him to have a look this week for an honest appraisal of whether the cash we might be able to cough up would make satisfactory progress. Heck, the kitchen’s not even that bad.

But the bathrooms are downright creepy.

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Last night while shopping at Wal Mart, one of my fellow shoppers was a man in a kilt.

Did I miss a memo about guys wearing skirts yesterday or something?

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My fantasy baseball team is 9-1.

I’m bad, I’m nationwide.