If it sounds too good to be true it probably is. Thus spaketh the great and powerful Oz, also known as my father. The man was and is ever vigilant about the welfare of his children. One of these days I’ll share some of the stories, like the time a couple of Camp Pendleton Marines found themselves on the wrong side of his glare.
Or maybe I’ll regale you with tales of his father, my grandfather obm. Grandpa is really the one who made my father into who he is. Grandpa spent time in the carnival business and learned all sorts of tricks, not to mention his prowess with a cue stick. I was very familiar with the story of Kowalski banging on the door because he wanted another shot to win his money back.
Anyway, these are all sort of tangents to my initial thought so here it is. It is really fricking irritating to try and do everything with one hand. Tonight I built a simple shoe rack. Normally something like that wouldn’t take more than a couple of moments, but not today. The #&&$%&#%^& splint kept getting caught on the rack.
Finally I got it together and found out that the shoe rack does not hold nine pairs of shoes, at least not nine pairs of a size 12, which is what I wear. And thus my attempt to clean and organize was partially thwarted.
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