Pickles, and Stuff

My husband is probably the coolest, nicest, funniest and most thoughtful man on the planet. Really...I know you are thinking, "What a sap she is", but heck, it's my blog, so na-na-na-na-na.





Anywhoooo, here's proof: I love pickles from a not-to-be named-fast food-place-that-I-never-go-to-who-has-a-spokesperson-like-a-scary-clown. Point of order...Why in the world do these places pick scary characters? Case in point, that "king" deal. Ok, back to the matter at hand...the pickles, perfectly dill flavoured, and sliced thin like chips, rather than those icky crinkle-cut variety. I love them. So, Fred went out and about, and lo and behold, made a deal with the manager of the scary place to purchase a container of my fav pickles. See, toldja'...he is the greatest. And, I have a two month supply of pickles to prove it. (Thanks, Kenny.)

It's a wonderful Sunday afternoon. Unless you like, and can do snowmobiling, skiing, ice-fishing, any outdoor stuff, there is not much going on around here in the winter. So...here's what some of us are doing at our house today.

That's Princess Molly napping. Brody Allan is watching the squirrels and Fred is practicing guitar.