There’s always tomorrow.

A few final thoughts from Howdygramland before I drift off to bed.

Mom arrived safe and sound from Los Angeles this afternoon. I cooked a really nice dinner at home followed by some raisins, and then we decide to watch game three of the World Series, which is being played at Rangers Ballpark in Arlington. This is actually a HUGE MISTAKE for after-dinner entertainment. Within an hour the Rangers are already drowning 5 to 0, Nolan Ryan looks like he passed a kidney stone and Sam and I are shrieking obscenities at the TV. I start to feel nauseated and suggest we’d better consider a cute movie instead before everybody has a stroke. We watched The Great Race on DVD.

By now, of course, everybody knows the Rangers lost 16 to 7, a score that must have shattered some kind of moronic World Series record for Most Humiliating Loss By a Team With a Home Field Advantage.

On a happier note, we’re taking mom to Blue Mesa in the morning for brunch, where a person can load up on all-you-can-eat fajitas, street tacos, guacamole, sweet potato chips, waffles, adobe pie, designer omelets and teeny tiny flans. They also have the best southwestern corn relish on the planet and Al, our favorite waiter. This glorious food fest will be preceded by a large herd of thunderstorms, which are heading south from Oklahoma as I write this post.

Night-night. Thank you for reading this.