"Why, oh why, oh why, oh, did I ever leave Ohio?"

No, I haven't flipped out, I'm just singing nonsensical songs today (with apologies to residents of Toledo, Cleveland, Cincinnati et al) to clear the cobwebs away. My brain is frazzled today, because I've been working on gathering tax information ever since my last post. Finally I got all the material together, and then I discovered that there are websites that do free electronic filing. I entered everything into one of them, but before clicking on that final "Send" I suddenly wondered how said site's calculations might compare to what Ye Olde Trusty Turbo-Tax might produce. So I am in the process of re-entering the data into Turbo-Tax to find out. If the results turn out to be identical, I'll file through the freebie site, even though I will have had to pay for using Turbo, but not their filing fee. Then, at least, next year I'll have had some prior experience about making my decision instead of just leaping blindly into the dark.

Tomorrow is my second son's birthday. He will be 42, which, as all readers of Douglas Adams's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy know, is the answer to life, the universe, and everything. I have two other children whose ages are 40 and almost 44. I mention these facts because a friend who reads this blog told me recently that I must hate my children, because I never mention them, just my grandchildren. I hereby do aver, affirm, state unequivocally, and solemnly swear that I do not hate my children. So help me God. You can say you read it here first.

Speaking of grandchildren, Elijah, who just had a birthday also, will be going on a week-long trip to Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia in a couple of weeks with a group of schoolchildren. Sam will be seven on March 2nd, which is also the birthday of his great-aunt Mary in Orlando. Sawyer and Ansley have birthdays in May, Matthew's birthday is in September, and Noah's is in December. I don't know why I remember people's birthdays; I just do. In fact, I have so many birthdays hanging around in my brain that they make tons and tons of the aforementioned cobwebs. That's why I have to sing songs like "Why, oh why, oh why, oh / Did I ever leave Ohio?" when I do my taxes. And, in case you are wondering, cobwebs in the brain are absolutely nothing at all like bats in the belfry. You can quote me on that.

Some day my taxes will be done, and my sanity will return. From my mouth to God's ear.

"Mairsy doats and dozey doats, and liddle lamsy divey...."