Just some yap for you this morning. Three o'clock here and I am waiting for Mr Sun. Boots, which one is me in that attachment? I don't see anybody with a hat. Cheryl. Yes I did get our camera. It came UPS yesterday. I saw the woman UPS driver turn around at the top of our hill, hang something on our 911 address sign and drive off. She refused to come down our long lane, worried about the snow and ice. What a union driver wuss (I think they are union) I had to fire up the Ranger fliver, load two dogs and go to the top of the hill to retrieve the package. There flapping in the wind was three hundred dollars worth of hardware about ready to get stolen. I didn't open the box. It is setting here next to me at the computer. I am afraid to open it. I'll bet it has a book of instructions a mile thick. I'll read the Mexican print first, maybe it will help me with the English translation. Technology frightens me. I don't even know how to turn on our TV set, let alone use a digital camera. Sometime this weekend, after the proper number of beers I will open it. Now to Nancy. Nancy loves Christmas. She hates getting ready for it, but loves it nonetheless. She has been busy working and at the same time buying presents, mailing Christmas cards and cooking. Me I just nap and drink beer. I am a good cook (no brag, just fact), scratch pies, cakes and breads and balanced meals, whatever that means. I have even quit using lard because Nancy is worried about the size of her butt. To me if it ain't fried it isn't worth eating, but I have quit doing that to keep my wonderful brides body in proper perspective for her next husband after I am dead. Nancy has been making cookies, time consuming and arduous. She doesn't make just a couple of kinds. Noooooooooo! She has to make 6-8 different kinds, or more. God there is cookies coming out our ears she is wrapping for friends and relatives. Here is why she is mad. I DON'T DO COOKIES! She asked me to make some. I refused. Manure hit the fan. Not speaking. Refuses to do my laundry. Normal wifey mad at ya kind of thing. She even refused to help me understand the new camera. That's why it is still in the UPS box. She knows I can't figure it out without her help. I don't eat cookies. I don't like cookies. They don't go good with beer. I don't drink milk. I don't drink coffee. Just beer and an occasional sip of water. If I don't like something I don't put my heart and soul into making it. Turns out a flop. She can't understand that. Ergo, fight. I just don't understand why women like to fight so much. So Cheryl. When you come down off your high horse and put your avatar back up I will too. (fingers crossed) Merry Christmas Dear. I don't know where CatscratchFever is either. Man, people come and go around here don't they? That is why it is better to be anonymous. Postbeetlejuice: Yes I liked that movie Cheryl. Don't know where I explained my handle. Will try and find it for ya. I am curious as to what I said myself.