What in the name of that-place where-snowballs-don't-stand-a-chance? I can't get on with Life, because Life keeps happening! As mentioned in a previous blog entry, I'm in the process of moving from House A to House B to get closer to one of my sons. Yesterday, I drove to House A to sort through, and pack up, another load from my exquisite collection of 50 years of clutter. And what do I find? Who -- or What -- greeted me at the door? An A/C unit that decided to commit suicide while I was away.

Life marches on like an unstoppable juggernaut. Meanwhile, I crawl forward like a sniveling snail. I'm like one of those clown punching bags. You can knock it down, but it comes right back up for more. Life keeps knocking me down...and I keep getting back up...only to get knocked down again.

To quote -- actually, I don't know who to quote, 'cause I couldn't find a reliable source -- "it's not how many times you get knocked down that count; it's how many times you get back up." (Actually, the only person I found that attributed to was George A. Custer -- and, we all know how that turned out.)

I also found: "It does not natter how many times you get knocked down, but how many times you get up," attributed to Vince Lombardi.

And there were other variations, Including "Remember: Inside every silver lining, there's a dark cloud," by George Carlin. Wait. That was meant for a different blog entry.