My fingers aren’t too keen on typing right now—I just got back in from doing a little over an hour of yardwork. Forgot to take a picture of what it looked like beforehand, but I’ve got almost all of the out-of-control forsythia bushes hacked down. Don’t worry, I took cuttings, so they’ll be back… only much more controlled next time.
This afternoon, Fries helped Aaron pick up our free washer and dryer from Aaron’s buddy Joe from work. I guess he had some issues getting the washer hooked up—the hose connector squirts everywhere, which is ungood. We need to hit Lowe’s tomorrow and get some new hoses or hose fittings or something.
Actually, we have a whole crapload of stuff that needs to be done around the house, especially outside. Doesn’t it just figure that this is when the drumcorps season starts to kick in with extra weekend rehearsals and parades and such? That pretty much wipes out about every other Sunday from now until early September, with a few exceptions. To make it worse, the initial joy of being in a drumcorps again has been overshadowed by the insanely long distance I have to drive to get to rehearsals now. But I can’t back out: 1.) because I know I’d regret it later, and 2.) because I committed to stick out at least this season and probably another one or two on top of that. Oh, yeah, and 3.) because I’m the only damn mellophone. Four or five trumpets, four baritones, a tuba, and one lowly mellophone. Poor Diana. No pressure, none at all. *crosses eyes* Oh, yeah, and did I mention I can’t get excited about practicing at all?
That reminds me: I need to e-mail my potential car-pool hookup from Clawson to Holly. I’m not planning to ride with Paul again. The caravan thing didn’t really appeal to me. Nope. Kind of defeated the purpose. So, not again.