The Baron left early this morning, wearing his best cloak-and-dagger, for some Seeekrit Meeting in Washington, D.C. That’s why you haven’t heard from him all day.
Well, it sounds good, huh? I mean aren’t you impressed?
In reality, he may be editing a book and went to meet with the author. If anything comes of that, dear readers, you will be the first to know. That is if you’ve memorized the password and you have your seekrit decoder ring…oh, and a small bag of unmarked twenty dollar bills.
Meanwhile, my asthma exacerbations have kicked back in. I’m holding on until I see the doctor tomorrow. What I’d like is (joke coming) a shot of oxygen. I guess they go to steroids next? Yuck. The B. thought he ought to stay home in case I needed to go to the ER (one of our clunkers is in for repairs). No way. I didn’t clean his cloak and polish that darn dagger just so he could stay here and watch me breathe.
By the way, when he comes home he’ll have the jar of honey I need to make that honey-onion-garlic mixture. And a herbal remedy for bronchial spasms.
He left at some ungodly hour, but I think he said he’d be home in time to do the newsfeed.
I’m just not well enough to post anything. The health care alternative I wanted to put up is too much for my oxygen-starved brain. And who wants to post about Sarah Palin (nice lady, but…), or report breathlessly on the numbers of women who’ve come out of the woodwork to claim their piece of Tiger Woods?
Is my fevered imagination or has the news itself degenerated?
Happy Saint Nicholas Day. Want to see a dhimmi Sinterklaas? Go here.
Can you see the missing cross?
That’s the future. What you won’t see. And the children will never know.
[nothing more here]