You know we all put our best face forward on these social networking sites, so when you start getting dizzy from looking at my black eye (and my frizzing gray hair and my sagging right eye and the snarl lines around my mouth), just glance over at the good photo that lives on this page before continuing to read this blog. Think of the good photo as the sherbet served at restaurants to cleanse your ocular palate, as it were ... not that either one of us has ever been to a restaurant that did that.
Are you still with me? Good. So how did I get that black eye?
Mike gave it to me because I want to paint the original tongue-in-groove real wood paneling at Dinky Manor, my new house. Michele did it because ditto. Gower did it because ditto, but he added, "It's your heritage!" It's not my heritage. It's not even his heritage. He's just a second-generation Floridian.
Let's move on to other options.
Mittens gave it to me because I continue to feed Nero, and to aid and abet and otherwise nurture his existence, which I also do for her, which obviously doesn't hold any weight.
Time Insulation gave me the ol' shiner because I couldn't schedule the crawl-space or attic insulation without first conferring with Dave. I'm pretty sure that my friend Steven schedules this sort of thing for a living. Now I know why he always wants to quit his job. First the AC guys have to go in, then the solar tube needs insertion, then the insulation can go in, but that's just for the attic. There are other reasons the crawl-space can't be insulated now, including, but not limited to, electrical work, plumbing work, and spiders with opposable thumbs.
Rhett because, although I have gathered new paint (Mediterranean Blue, Pool Blue, Passion, Kelly Green, and Apple Tart) and have procured another new mailbox, I still haven't started painting. The first two attempts were so disastrous, I had to scrape the paint off and start again.
As long as we're in that vein, perhaps James held me down while his young daughter Jamie kicked me in the eye because I said I'd rewrite their story -- and I will! I will! -- but I just haven't gotten into it yet.
Val and David smacked me because of my political views.
Dave did it because I haven't found the black-and-white floor tile I want in the kitchen.
Do you think Small Adventures Bookshop did it because I was too fast in my turnaround for new business cards? No. Of course not, but I had to add something positive here.
Okay. How about this? How about a can of dog food fell on my face?