and the beating goes on

I am so sick of feeling like this that I am going to rant about it. No, I'm not. Second thought, I'll just write. You all know my arm is hanging by a thread that seems to be connected to every pain-related neuron in my body. Typing is beginning to hurt, and that is truly unacceptable. Work? Who cares. But writing, now that is important.

a. sent me the film of bennet, the smoking dog, which is always good for a laugh. this one made me laugh, but will piss off my peta friends, although I don't think the moron that made the film thought it through. He sounds regretful in the soundtrack.


We went clamming yesterday (what is the sound of one hand clamming?) and got skunked. We got one. a clam. one sixty dollar clam. (8 dollars each for shellfish tags, and gas.) the clams won. So we came home and had chicken instead. We timed it right, though. It was beautiful. A high and angry sea, any shade of gray, blue sky and white clouds, rain in the offing, sun setting through the clouds with rays like heaven behind it all. Since I was a one-armed clam bandit, I spent more time appreciating the scenery than looking for clams. They weren't home anyway. It takes a fairly good minus tide to find them, and low tide was at 5:30. We got there around 3:30, and clammed until just about sunset, but 5:30 was after dark or just at, and we didn't have light. I did purchase a set of waders last year, the kind that are lightweight overalls with nice, stretchy straps and footies made of foam that slide easily over whatever I am wearing and keep all water out. Out. I can do anything if I am relatively warm and completely dry. We went up to Mt. Hood last weekend and the snow blowing straight in my face exceeded my comfort levels. I am INTO the appropriate equipment. You should see the seat on my bike. It looks to have been made by John Deere. Comfort. That's what its all about.

So, today, we are having shrimp. Purchased at Winco.

Here's a picture of Nicole and Sid.