Visit to Chic-Fil-A

We made a visit to Chic-Fil-A over the weekend. I think their signature chicken sandwiches are pretty good. The Wife does not like the pickles. They usually to to Little One. But not today and the change set off a very interesting result.

I became the proud owner of The Wife's pickles. Most times I would just eat them like some maniac contestent on Fear Factor. But today was different. I decided to put them on my chicken sandwich. Usually, I raise the top bun to ad mayo. But this time, I was adding extra pickle, so I decided to lift off the lower bun. That's when I saw it. Laying on my chicken like teenager laying on the couch during summer break. It did not move...it just laid there...and I bet my eyes bugged out like Marty Feldman's as he played Igor in Young Frankenstien. It was a WHITE HAIR about 2 inches long! Heck, feathers I may could understand, but a hair of unknown origin...nasty. Did I make someone mad?

If I'm at home, I pluck the hair and go one eating. Heck, I eaten stuff that has been dropped on the floor. I even lick a sucker that Little One had dropped on the floor...did I mention we have two dogs that are shedding?

But, at a national eatery, I did what every man in my situation would do. I sent The Wife back to the counter to complain. And it worked. The manager said I could have a free dessert. Music to my ears. I spent lunch thing about dessert.

Time for the big decision and I went with a hand spun chocolate milkshake. And a fine choice it was. We, it was a community shake of course, liked it so much that we had another a couple of days later. I believe the manager thought I would go for pie or a brownie, something cheap. But their ad campaign worked and I went for the $2.79 delight.

Did you know?

Did you know this about the New River>

On a rainy day looking up the New River.

What looks like a rock outcropping is really a left over stump from a tree that the wind blew down a couple of years ago.

Catching Up

What a weekend. I had 4 days off! Yea! But it was too hot, upper 80s to low 90s, to do much work outside. So, the Wife and I scheduled a babysitter and decided to spend the evening on the town. Actually it was only 3 hours, but who is complaining.

We looked for a movie that both of us wanted to see. Her choice was "The Lake House", a chick flick. But she had mercy on me and did not make me go see it. My choice was "Pirates of the Caribbean", but it was not playing yet.

Instead, we had dinner at Logan's Roadhouse and then did the thing every couple does when they get a few hours of spare time. We shopped for a refrigerator. It took 2 trips to Sears, but we did purchase a new fridge. It cost as much as a Heckler & Koch USP 9mm. But everyone benefits from a fridge while only I would get excited about a handgun.

I have made a break through on my objective to convince the Wife to move to Alaska. Usually, when I ask she rolls her eyes or shakes her head or says "No" or some combination of these. This time the conversation went like:

"When can we move to Alaska?"
"When Little One becomes a Teenager."
"Whoa! Good! When she turns 13, right?"
"No, maybe 16."
"Why then?"
"That will be a good time to dress her in a parka and some mukluks."

She actually said "mukluks". She must be reading Alaska blogs or my Alaska Magazine while I'm not home.

Let me sipher some. Little One is almost 3...so in about 13 years I'll be in my 50s...I'll have to wait a long time. But I'll take it! Maybe she is warming up to the ideal. I'll keep working on her.