Even better

Two tablespoonsful of vanilla caramel chocolate crunch frozen yogurt with a splash of Bailey's on top.

Hey, did you know that it was recently Steven Spielberg's sixtieth birthday? I had no idea that he was only two years older than I am. He's my favorite director by far, and while I've hated some of his movies (Goonies! Hook! ET!) most of his films rank among the best I've ever seen.

Oh, damn! Birthdays. I missed llaras's birthday. Shame on me. Shame. I hope it was a wonderful day for you, my dear, and the beginning of an even more wonderful year.

Looking for fun in all the wrong places

I need some fun. I was thinking about it today, and I realized that I haven't had or done anything that was pure entertainment in I don't know how long now. And that's just wrong. Even if it's just a day, I need to do something away, something with no strings attached, no responsibility inherent in it. Just goof.

I was telling Dar that I was fantasizing about sitting on a shady balcony overlooking an ocean, drinking something cold and refreshing while I reorganized the tags on my Flickr pics. Go ahead, laugh. You have your idea of relaxing, and I have mine.

So my car got dinged all to hell and back in that hail storm that hit yesterday. (If you want pics of what happened, check out darlong's link and my post today to pic365.) We ended up with minor damage to the house, but our neighbors got walloped with major damage to their house and their cars. At least I didn't lose a window, even if my car does look like a golf ball on steroids.

After the shock of seeing the damage, my thoughts quickly turned to how deadly this storm would have been to anyone caught out in the open. I haven't heard of any personal injuries, thankfully, and that's kind of a miracle, seeing as how we always catch glimpses of farmers way the hell out in their acreage, usually on horse-drawn wagons. I guess they're all experienced enough to get the hell under cover at the first threat of this kind of weather.

I was doing the evening routine with the alpacas tonight, trying to get it all done before the coming storm hit. They were really nervous; at the first sound of thunder they crowded into the barn, humming their little hearts out. Iceman was off in his own paddock, racing back and forth, scared and alone. It's killing me to see him like that, and one way or another tomorrow I'm going to get Adama back there with him.

We got one lead on a llama, but he's 2 1/2 and hasn't yet been gelded. So he's out. I still have to go talk with the local guy who raises llamas and see if he has any suitable geldings for sale.

I went in to talk with the local John Deere representative this morning, and the upshot is that we're screwed. He started out by saying that it sounded as if they'd end up taking our tractor back as a return, but then he got a heads up from another sales guy and came back with an info sheet from John Deere explicitly saying that the 30-day return policy does not cover any vehicle bought at Home Depot or Lowe's. As I said, screwed. So they came and hauled it back to the repair shop; let's see what it is this time. I should point out that everyone I dealt with was friendly and helpful and not at all adverse to the idea of taking the lawn tractor back, but they're bound by policy. And by their united, strong hatred for Home Depot. I had no idea of this great animosity, and I can only wonder why John Deere allows HD to sell their stuff if they won't back it up once it's sold. Anyway, we may just trade it in for an upgrade to the next class of lawn tractors, something with more horsepower and traction.

On an entirely unrelated note, Mark and I were at the movies when the hail storm hit. We went to see Ratatouille which was a sweet movie with amazing graphics and enough cute rats to satisfy even a rodentophile such as I. We did end up moving our seats twice - once because of incredibly unruly children (teach your kids proper public behavior, for Christ's sake!) and then again when a whole slew of heavily perfumed folk marched into our aisle. I thought for a minute that I was going to have to leave the theater or end up dealing with an asthma attack, but fortunately we were able to move down far enough where the smell was just offensive rather than debilitating. And that, folks, is why I've just about given up going to public theaters.

I know that it's after eleven, but I'm really craving some lime sherbet (mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!), so off I go.