Well, I was thinking for a minute I was a stupid git to have needed to google the definition of escutcheon.

For a second or two longer I was pretty tense, wondering if I would ever be able to remember how to spell it, should I have the occasion.

Then.... I got even more tense, thinking it would be a sad state of affairs if I did ever have a bona-fide need to use it, me being past the age of spelling bees and all that.

And then... I got to worrying about the lack of ruffles on me pillows, not to mention what atrocities might be happening across the street to the wee spaniel when the shades are drawn at night, while I sit, blithely oblivious at my keyboard, pondering the fate of the nation and the world and such larger things, instead of tending to my own community.

And THEN...... I began pining for the days when men were men and only sheep were scared.






I'm much better now, however. A glass of (unsugared) wine in hand, I watched an episode from season 5 of Stargate Atlantis. It put things in perspective.

I mean, we think we have problems....