I have one on the end table in my den. It was made in the 1960s and still works. Visitors think it’s just decoration and are startled when it rings.
Years ago, I lived just outside San Antonio. My route driving to work took me past a Mrs. Baird’s bakery and the Pace picante sauce plant, which were near each other. I drove a convertible and would put the top down on pleasant mornings. The aroma coming from each was unbelievable! And when the wind was just right, the aromas would blend and make a third, even more tantalizing smell. I wish I could have bottled it!
Actually, I CAN open (and close) my garage door with my cell phone. It also lets me know if the door is open or closed, and sends me an alert if the door opens. It comes in handy when I’m away from home and trying to remember if I closed the door.
Maybe he’ll outgrow that stupid helmet soon.
I had a cat that would fall asleep hugging a shoe, with her head on it or inside it. But it had to be a leather shoe. She had a few other strange fetishes, too.
As my high school coach used to say, “he just got a whack from the reality stick.”
The way to Garfield’s heart is through… no, wait. He has no heart. He’s all stomach.
“GOING to be”???? We’ve been in pollengeddon for weeks now.
When I worked from home, I knew to go through the trash can in my office before I emptied it because inevitably I would find notes or something else in there I needed for the project I was working on. Sometimes I tossed it accidentally, but usually I thought I was through with it and tossed it, then realized a few days later I still needed it.