Again.

Harold is sure he's got the right date this time. Probably. Well, maybe.

All I can say is, his timing is really bad. I just bought a carton of chocolate ice cream (on sale) today to celebrate getting my firewood in.

And now the end of the world is coming. Tomorrow. Not only am I not able to finish the ice cream, but all my wood will be wasted, too.

Maybe God will strike ole Harold with a lightning bolt -- maybe he foresaw HIS apocalypse, rather than everyone else's.

And I'm going to bed in my old, ratty pajamas, so there!

Sue