"The masses have spoken!" or "No rest for the weary".

Okay all you dedicated Queep's blog-ites, I will appease your blog thirsty appetites. Since so many (i.e. five, including my wife) are still interested in my sporadic diatribes on Kentucky Football and the like (I'm really NOT going to write about Kentucky Football anymore)....I say we shall endeavor to establish a thorough accounting of the continued adventures of Ale8 Man.

Anyways...it's the weekend, which means we're taking it easy here at Camp Crawford...or at least I thought we were when I woke up this morning. Instead we decided that Christmas was indeed over today, and we took down all the decorations. We took down the tinsel, the garland, the wrappings. We took down the tree, the cards and the trappings. We stored our Who-honkers and boxed our Who-blinkers. We threw out the left over roast beast and Who-hash. And the one speck of food that we left in the house was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

So the house is back to normal. As usual we cut all the branches off the tree and they are piked in the yard where we can use them to cover the gardens and protect the daffodils from their inevitable premature emergence (due to what seems to be the inevitable annual 70 degree day in mid-February).

After Christmas was down, we went to the dog park with the pooches (since Kentucky has thawed to a balmy 29 degrees) followed by lunch at Wallace Station (where we both concurred that a new ham vendor is definitely being used, resulting in thicker and poorer tasting sandwiches than we're used to from this place).

We're debating about whether to go see Slumdog Millionaire at the Kentucky Theater tonight, or go instead on a hunt for some white pillowcases (for the newly repainted guest bedroom) and a big bag of Eukanuba (for the dogs who go through it at far too rapid a pace).

I'm pooped. Maybe we'll sleep in tomorrow.