"When you make as many speeches and you talk as much as I do and you get away from the text, it's always a possibility to get a few words tangled here and there." ~ Dan Quayle

You guessed right. It's me again. I started to say the gift that keeps on giving, however, I am fully aware that would have to be in the eye of the beholder. Good to see you on this Wednesday, August 8, 2018. For those who lean towards proper English, let me just say this about that. It is not Grammarly's fault. That utility does its best to alert me when I have wandered off the reservation. (I'm not sure we are allowed to say that anymore.) At any rate, I do, at times, follow the advice given by the grammar correcting software. But, I will tell you this. It knows next to nothing about my colloquialisms and homespun figures of speech. I use the free version. No telling how weird it could get if I paid for the one that goes all out. Like I say, I do follow it when it makes sense to me. As I used to tell my secretary who was an English major, my goal is communication, not getting an A on my English test. And, I did, at times, follow her suggestions on my drafted memos. I used the same standard. The sound test. How does it sound when it is read? Oh well, now you know why some of my constructions are so tormented. None of this means I am opposed to input that will help make my writing better. I do get, mostly from family, the occasional suggestion directed towards ways to unmangle the tangled text I have woven. Just joking around. (By the way, it flagged unmangle and wanted me to use untangle. Unmangle is a perfectly acceptable word. If I had wanted to use untangle I would have. That is, if I had thought of it first.) My written materials could be called folk art. I noticed that's what they call stuff on Antiques Roadshow when they can't figure out any other classification.

That first paragraph does not imply that it's a slow news day here at the old blogger ranch. Now had you said no news day it may have been closer to reality. My grandfather used to tell me that I needed to use what was between my ears. I'm certain he was talking about my thinking apparatus, but, he obviously didn't take into consideration the blank stare, the blank page, and even worse, the blank blank. We carried the twins to a nice pizzeria for their birthday dinner. It's one of those places where everything is made from scratch and they cook on one of those wood-fired pizza ovens. Very nice. This is what 'real' Italian pizza tastes like. Really? Several of us at the table had mostly been used to the fast-food version of pizza. They are different. Some were even more familiar with the ones that you take out of the freezer and heat up in the oven or microwave. The pizzas we had for their birthday were not like those kinds of pizza. They were different. They were pricey. I actually think they were probably better than what we typically eat, however, the change would take some time to get used to. The wife and I have ordered the same pizza for many years. It comes from 'the hut'. It's their thin and crispy crust, beef, with mushrooms and black olives. At the pizzeria, I ordered for us the Italian sausage with black olives and mushrooms. It was different. I brought the leftover pieces to the office so that others can enjoy them. The twins enjoyed their pizza and their birthday dinner. After all, that's why we were there. (The review forums indicated the prices typically run $75 for two people.)

Different people have different tastes. I once described how the wife and I like the thin crust and even like it cooked crispy when we can get it that way. One fellow here in the office was so distressed about our choice he nearly had to leave the room. And, just so you know, I eat my watermelon, seeds and all. Maybe that's my response to being warned as a child that if I did eat the seeds a watermelon vine would grow in my belly. My wife doesn't eat the seeds. I do. I actually chew them up. And, those white ones are like a delicacy. Don't ever try to tell me I have an underdeveloped food palette. (Yes. I will admit I did have to look up the spelling of the word palette, but that doesn't mean I don't have a good one.) If I hang around until then, I will soon be celebrating my three score, ten, plus two years here on the planet. (That's 72 for those who have trouble calculating that number.) The wife wants to prepare a special family meal to commemorate the occasion. I have been given the task of choosing the menu. What shall it be? Nearly everything she prepares are my favorites. I also know the favorites of my boys. So much to think about. Such difficult choices in life. Decisions. She asked me again while we were at the pricey pizzeria. That was good timing because almost anything she cooks would have been better than that. To me. I share these thoughts only to let you know the struggles I face. And, to fill in some of that blank blank space. But, truthfully speaking, it is all in fun with one overriding certainty, I am blessed. I am. Be sure and thank God today for His presence. Amen. ....More later.