• Hot dog! The joke’s on us.

    I know I said I wasn’t going to do an April Fools’ joke this year, but I couldn’t help myself. Our real weather on April 1 was partly cloudy with a high of 41°. But they didn’t know that, I reasoned. Did anyone fall for it? Certainly not my mom, who was first out of…

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  • Cheese crushes Cybertruck, film at eleven.

    November may not have gone as I (and millions of other smart and sensible Americans) had desired, but April brings renewed hope. We stood up to the bully and won. Wisconsin cannot be bought. I’m pretty proud of my adopted state. I’ve lived in both deep red and the bluest of blue states, but purple…

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  • Night Ranger to Pretenders, The

    I’ve mentioned my record collection many times on the blog. According to Discogs, we currently have 882 albums. Dude: that’s a lot. Discogs, by the way, is one of the most useful apps I’ve ever downloaded. Without it, I don’t know how we’d ever sort our collection; keeping track of that much vinyl is impossible…

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  • Dive bars are like pornography.

    In my last post, I mentioned that we ducked into a dive bar in Blanchardville for a cocktail and a bite to eat. The most distinctive feature of Rachel & Ray’s was the ceiling tiles featuring historic black-and-white photos. Yo, Ilsa Rey commented. That ain’t no dive bar, you lyin’ sack of [expletive]. OK, maybe…

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  • No geysers, no bison.

    Remember how I said I like to have a firm plan when sliding behind the steering wheel while Tara is more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants gal? Saturday was a great example of that. Our only plan for the weekend involved running errands. We grabbed breakfast in town, then zipped down to Janesville to hit Menards and…

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  • The great laundromat in the sky.

    I was putting away laundry the other day and discovered a hole in one of my socks. I get that nothing lasts forever – circle of life and all that jazz – but this always causes me great distress. I don’t mean to be dramatic, but it feels like a death in the family. Especially…

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