I find it interesting that after striving for 30 years to be separate and apart from our families, The Househusband and I are contemplating a move back “home.” Although we have decried that small place is a cultural backwater, a gossip’s delight, a town hundreds of miles from anywhere, we also realize that despite living in a large metropolitan area all this time, we haven’t availed ourselves of its amenities more than a handful of times in the last few years. More and more, anything we can get here can at least be ordered from websites and delivered there. The one thing we are still unsure of is the quality of medical care since we are aging daily and definitely won’t be needing the orthopedists who repair the typical skiing injuries, bull-riding accidents, or tractor-pull manglings, but instead need internists competent to service bodies that are just breaking down of their own accord. Oddly enough, it is the idea that our own son could move back here next year for grad school that keeps us teetering on the brink of deciding to pull up stakes and move back to the “homestead” as it were.

Someone had changed this word to “Pedofile”. I’m guessing from the comments and from it’s position on the 100 Words list it should be “Irony”, so I changed it back.

So many people misunderstand this concept. It’s not something unfortunate that happens; instead, it is the last thing one would expect to happen.

Irony is a common experience among humans…

Josh starts accusing Alice of taking his hat when he is wearing it or he cannot find his glasses but there are on his head or right in front of him on his desk.

You cannot find you keys but then you realize they are in your hands or pocket. Or you might realize they are still in the car door because you never remembered to take them out.