Tax Freedom Day (at least for us accountants)

(Lack of sleep plays tricks with the mind.
So here’s a little ditty I just happened to find.
Change is in the air, can you feel the wind?
I filed my extension, you should see my grin.)


April is the cruelest month
At least in the United States
We dread the ides
When we’re taxed to our eyes
It puts us all in dire straights.

April is the cruelest month
At least here in Minnesota
The days are chilly
The nights are colder
It feels like North Dakota.

April is the cruelest month
At least in my little town
The lakes we’re not using
For boats or snowshoeing
And the grass is an ugly brown.

April is the cruelest month
At least in my humble home
I’m too busy to blog
Daylight savings’ got me in a fog
My mind is on a constant roam.

April is the cruelest month
At least in my comfy chair
I sit here and fret
Think about bills being met
But still I shouldn’t despair.

For April is the cruelest month
At least up on that tree
The spotless one
Was tortured and hung
And somehow makes us free.

Is it already Sunday

I just remembered that I didn't blog yesterday, thus breaking my continuous string of blogging days, and this led me to contemplate the fact that I shouldn't use "just" to modify my speech as I often do (and did early on in this sentence), because it weakens what I'm trying to say, and then tempts me to justify or explain why I do it, all of which leads me to write run-on sentences, which I think I was taught not to do somewhere along the way in my attempts at learning.

Zzzzzzzzz

Sat down to blog. . . Fell asleep.

Woke up, remembered that my brother with the birthday went to Vegas for vacation in a Tahoe. The Chevy Tahoe is an 8 cylinder, but when it’s cruising down the freeway, four of the cylinders shut down to save on gas. This reminded us of an old high school friend, who in about 1975 took four spark plugs out of his V-8 Oldsmobile and claimed he saved lots of gas that way. It clunked and sputtered and sounded like a tractor, but it ran. Maybe he was ahead of his time.

Or maybe that was a dream.

Happy Birthday Greg and Adam

Hey this is pretty easy blogging, the whole happy birthday gig. My brother and his oldest each rack up one more year. And tax season marches on. No energy for inspiration.

Happy Birthday Mom

My mother is blowing out one more candle on her cake this year, 73 to be exact.

Another Reason they shouldn't allow me to have a blog

There was an old blogger named Tim
Who anxiously went out for a swim
It’s April he thought
I’ve been cooped up a lot
(To the lake he did go
Through the ice and the snow)
And now he’s in bed with the symp-

Toms of a runny nose, the chills, a hacking cough, blurry vision, and a headache