THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 Wella, wella, wella, young fella, it's Friday once again.

That greeting is for all the rest of my thousands of Gentle Readers too.

I hope your week was amusing.

Maybe not if you didn't live, like I do, in the 1 percent of the United States that *wasn't* frozen solid.

My sympathies are with you.

And to help you thaw out and warm up, here's some humor.

And with that heavenly thought let me wish you all an exhilirating weekend full of warmth and cleanup.

And in spite of your troubles, always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(Oh-ho!)

"Mother Country" by John Stewart

WAY BACK WEDNESDAY

 Comical Carol, from down in Phoenix, was prompted by my posting an old-timey photo of myself last week, to send me some old pictures from *her* collection.

These are probably from the 1970's and when you notice how much cigarette smoking was going on you might be amazed (as I am) that we are all still alive!

That is Comical Carol herself, though this lovely portrait *doesn't* have her wacky sense of humor on display.

Then there's the famous She Who Must Be Obeyed, exhulting over some weird board game we were playing.

Baseball Steve, in a rare quiet moment *not* in the middle of one of his convoluted stories.

And finally, your sappy scribe.

On viewing these windows into the past I couldn't help but think of an old Bob Dylan song: Everybody Must Get Stoned.

WHAT A DAY!

 Upon checking my calendar today I learned that this is Shrove Tuesday.

And Pancake Tuesday.

And Fat Tuesday.

And Mardi Gras.

Basically it's all the same thing.

The day before Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent.

So have at it, Gentle Readers.

Days of fasting are ahead.

MEDITATING MONDAY

 First of all, let me wish you all a happy Presidents' Day.

(Gadfrey, when will these holidays end?)

I hope you all celebrated Valentine's Day in style.

At least whatever style self-isolation can allow.

I went out early and came back with a Sunday New York Times, a strange kind of blueberry breakfast cookie, miniature carnations, and some dark chocolate lava cake Hershey kisses for "da boss".

She was surprised and delighted.

Much later in the day I followed the BRD's lead and baked an Amish Cherry Cobblestone Cake.

Ta-da!

After it cooled down, I added the glaze but I made too much and, not realizing I could save some of it, dumped the whole thing on the cake.

It's supposed to have a swirly sort of light streak pattern.

As you can see, mine is a little different.

Oh well, for someone with a sweet tooth it was a perfect finish to Judy's exquisite dinner of Bacon Lemon Scallops and Risotto with Sugar Snap Peas.

I said, after eating a piece of the cake, that it tasted like Valentine's Day.

SNOWY VALENTINE'S DAY

 The big winter storm sweeping across the United States and Canada this weekend just skirted my area but enough to leave a light white coating on the hills.

That's Glassford Hill, the thankfully extinct volcano in the heart of our town.

It's not normally snow-covered as it is in this photo.

And to the south the morning sunlight on the snowy Bradshaw Mountains.

In my back yard there was only a dusting of snow in the shaded areas.

(BTW, if you click on the pictures they become bigger and much more impressive.

Meanwhile my long-time friend, Comical Carol, sent this holiday greeting, (perhaps from her cat Harry?)

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

And Happy Statehood Day to Arizona, which became the 48th state on this day in 1912 . . 109 years ago.

LA MONJA RESTORED

 Good morning.

It's Judy again sitting in at the keyboard with the latest on our backyard icon.

Back in the late 1980's and early 1990's, when we lived in Mexico, we accumulated many objects to which we became attached.

This was after disposing of a houseful of things in the U.S. before moving to Mexico.

We swore we would not attach ourselves to "stuff" ever again.

Right!

The Monja (a stylized figure of a nun) was a birthday gift to me from Bruce one year.

When it was time to return to the states we couldn't leave her behind.

She has spent three decades in the outdoors of Arizona, winter and summer.

This year she was near disintegration and something had to be done.

She came into the corner of our kitchen and lay across a card table and waited for rehab to begin.

The very rough spots were worked over with a wire brush and an emery board.

Then a thin layer of "patio paint" was applied to her face and thick layers of the paint to the large cracks in the body.

This was repeated again and again.

Yesterday she was ready to leave the house.

She's back on her base in the sun.

For another three decades?