Like water on a duck’s back

 I’m alive. Freezing, but alive nonetheless. Temps reached into the thirties last night, dropping the temperature in the house to a chilly 63. Sigh. I guess that is why my closet contains sweatshirts. Things are supposed to warm up after today.

We had a couple of steaks in the freezer we scored on sale a few months ago. They were rib steaks every bit of an inch thick. I got off work at seven last night, came home and fired up the gas grill. The wife had baked up some spuds and some microwaved frozen broccoli rounded out a fine Sunday meal, albeit a late one. By  the time I cleaned up the mess and a few other odds and ends it was almost nine when I settled in to watch a recording of the football game. 

Somehow I had avoided all references to the score or outcome and I was prepared to relax on the couch. Except the DVR failed to record the game. 

Of course it was user error. There is no other answer.

WTH Trump? What’s with the joyride? If you are sick, stay in. Now you have exposed the Secret Service agents and the driver at the very least. 

It is Monday enjoy your day.