O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A

Oklahoma! Where the people don’t signal when they turn, and the somethin' wheat sure smells sweet, somethin', somethin', somethin'…
That’s where I’m off to in a couple of days, headed back to my mom and dad’s for a few days of country fun. My sister and brother-in-law will almost certainly bring a small arsenal for us to plink around with, my mom will fix heart-stopping fare such as porcupine meatballs and biscuits and gravy, my dad will talk about how he's going to finally fix the fences so that he can get a few calves (this one-sided conversation has been going on for about 20 years now), and I’m going to see if I can find some fireworks, because nothing is more exciting than lighting short fuses while drunk. Who needs an extreme sport hobby?
Speaking of drunk, I’m starting to think maybe the title of my blog should be “I’m not Scottish, I’m drunk,” I just think that it makes more sense that way.
Ok, I’m procrastinating here, tons of stuff to do before we head out and not one bit of it appealing. Well, one bit might be appealing, we’ll see, but the rest of it? Not so much.
Got a seriously ill Jeep to tend to, some of my staff are acting like high school girls (and it’s not the high school girls), I’ve got a ton of prep to do, a few things to take care of for the new place, which we’ve decided to call Café Z, by the way, my house is a wreck and I can’t have someone coming over to feed the dogs with it like that, and there is a massive pile of mail on my desk that I have been avoiding (note: when the mail that is usually white suddenly shows up brightly colored, it’s time to pay attention to that one)…which reminds me, gotta go to the accountant’s too.
Hell’s Bells, I can't wait to be on the road.
Have a great week, everyone!