O, that I were able to fill this post with a fortnight's worth of tales of daring-do, of adventure and excitement, of journeys to far-off lands on missions of mercy, but sadly, empty have been the days and dark the nights, a longing for the renewal of spring denied by the incessant rains and bone-chilling cold, with all-too-brief respites of sunshine serving only to aggravate my yearnings and intensify my aches ...
So yeah, I got nothin’.
I’ll relate an actual conversation that took place between me and The Live Acorn the other day while I try to make up some stuff that would be interesting were it really to have happened:
Dead Acorn: You know, Live Acorn, the intellectual black hole that is the Idaho Legislature actually got something good done this past session.
Live Acorn: Oh yeah? (rolls eyes; thought balloon with “Jesus Christ, why can’t he shut up?” visible above her head)
Dead Acorn: Yep ... they lowered the age at which a person can donate blood from 18 to 16, with parental consent, of course.
Live Acorn: Neato. (thought balloon now reading “maybe I can just walk the last 8 miles to volleyball practice ...”)
Dead Acorn: Yes indeedy ... it goes into effect on July 1st, the beginning of the fiscal year.
Live Acorn: This is quite the informative ride, father. Thank you for the information.
Dead Acorn: So it will be in place when you turn 16 in the middle of July, and I’ve scheduled appointments for both of us on your birthday!
Live Acorn: NO NO NO OH GOD NO NO DAD NO I NEED MY BLOOD I NEED ALL OF MY BLOOD NONONONONONO ...
And I thought I was a sissy.