Wait, What?

OAFS Photo

Had a lazy day Wednesday, thought seriously about another one on Thursday, but dontcha know, that front lawn needed cutting, needed it bad.

So I did that, after a brief pause to let said lawn dry off after a wee passing shower.

OAFS Photo

Now when I finally got off my ass resolved to cut the grass I noticed a lot of sketchy looking clouds hanging about. Checked my weather app, which said rain likely at 1600 and 1700. Note, it was 1530 when I was set to go mow.

OAFS Photo

I decided, after a little voice in my head yelled "Hey Sarge, they're called weather guessers for a reason," that I would head out and if it started raining, well, then I'd get wet. Unlike past days where I would keep going unless it started up with lightning and thunder, I'd have to call it off if it started raining again. Hey, water wouldn't stall my mower, just clog it. These days though, the electric mower might actually sustain damage.

Well, I'd do what I could, if it rained, well, like Little Orphan Annie sang, "there's always tomorrow." I mean, what the hey, I'm retired, ain't I? I've got the time, don't I?

Anyhoo. Got it done. Then thought about blogging. Took some photos outside, did some reading inside, was looking for inspiration. Couldn't find it.

Life has been passing strange lately. Losing a buddy at 55 still freaks me out. It shouldn't, after all, I've lost friends and colleagues in the military at much younger ages, but still, when you can see the end of things not that far off, it's rattling to see someone else get there first.

I've seen death up close and personal, not a fan, I can tell you, but ...

Enough of that. Miss you, Doug.

Anyhoo. Had an exceptionally bizarre dream the other day, I mean really bizarre.

The Missus Herself sent me to the store, so I went. When I stepped outside, I was no longer in Little Rhody, but had somehow managed to get transported to Paris, yes, the one in France. And the City of Lights was an awful mess.

All the bridges over the Seine were down, but you could get to the other side via tunnels under the river. As I approached the entrance to one tunnel, I noted that I was wearing naught but my skivvies. Odd that. But no one seemed to care.

Entered the tunnel which, for some reason, was being painted. I complimented the two chaps actually doing the painted. Didn't strike me until much later that the two painters were dressed like Mario and Luigi. Yes, that Mario and Luigi. (Probably because I watched the original Mario Brothers movie, and the second one as well in the theater, a couple of weeks ago with my youngest grandsons. FWIW, I liked the first one better, why is it that sequels always seem to fall short?)

Just about the time I got to the other side of the Seine, finding myself near the Eifel Tower, I realized that none of the people in the dream were actually, ya know, speaking French. Then I woke up.

What the actual fire truck?

Don't remember what I ate that night.

Like I said, life has been a little strange lately.

It'll get better ...

Right?

I'm binge-listening to Puddle of Mudd as I try to remember where I was in the story I was telling. You know, that war thing. It ain't helping, but damn, that's an excellent band.

I shall return, most likely.

Hopefully far less pensive and a lot more motivated