As predicted, we got a light dusting of snow in Fort Smith last night. And by "light dusting," I mean "By 9:30 in the morning it had completely melted off our lawn."
The shocking part of the day came at lunch. When Jen and I ran by the house, the painters were there working.
I rolled down the window to talk to the main guy. (By the way, I have no clue how old he is. He might be 45, but looks 60. Longish hair, fu-man-chu moustache, missing a few teeth. He's lived a rough life. I've seen homeless people look better.) He comes over to the window and this exchange happens.
Me: "I'm surprised y'all are working today."
Him: "Yeah, we probably shoulda come out on Saturday or Sunday, since it was so nice compared to today. But ... aww, I ain't gonna lie — I was hung over."
Me: "Oh, nothing wrong with that. Sure was a lot warmer over the weekend."
Him: "Yeah, it was her (his girlfriend/helper) birthday on Monday and we got started celebratin' a little early on Friday night."
No word on if she has a blog to celebrate her birthday.
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