Neanderpundit

I managed to get a mow in last weekend but just. And it looks like this weekend will be no different.

I ought to get the roller out and roll down the ruts put there by (1) the tree service last fall, and (2) the dumpster guy who hauled away my old garage floor.

I ought to win the lottery and have someone else deal with this, too, but that one isn’t likely.

The fireworks have begun. This is, after all, Indiana, and we are surrounded by people who love explosions. I do too, and I like that my neighbors spend the money and I get to listen and watch for free, and never have to lose a finger or spend a dime.

it stings, somewhat, that Max is not here to be spooked by the fireworks. Still, when the boomers are going off outside, I keep his ashes close by me so I can comfort- well, mostly myself.

Was going to go out and do some work at the hunting property but I have too much going on this weekend to take the day off, though I sorely want the rest. Plus the cash for the gas is not just laying around either.

This weekend we will park indoors again. I am happy to be at that point. I have to put down harley cookie sheets for the Escape, but hopefully I will be able to get the valve cover gaskets sealed and the AC fixed and shut those leaks down.

So this weekend I will be putting the garage project under wraps. Now all I have to do is finish paying for it.

some of them the size of suburban homes, fill our parking lot each time a machine is delivered. Sometimes, they contain a remarkable quantity of clean wood, and today, I grabbed a clear pine 4×4 and tossed it into the car to use as feet for my workbench.

On the way home I started noticing something going on just to the left of my field of vision, and when I got home where I could take my glasses off and look, a spider about the size of a grain of salt had tried to take up residence in my left eyelashes, and went apeshit repairing his minuscule web every time I blinked. I evicted him posthaste.

One or two big ones- last night it was a black lab/great dane beast, which stood up on the counter at some kind of store and stared at me, tail wagging up dust bunnies from under the furniture, then leaned in as I leaned in and licked my face till my whole shirt was soaked. It felt fine.

More often, though, it was dachs. A bed full of them. squirming and snoring little wheezy puppy snores, across my back, between my legs, on my pillow, curled up under my armpit. I’d wake up to pee, and come back and a round dozen or more drowsy eyed dachs thumped their tails against the bed as I crawled back in, and nestled back into me and we all dozed off together.

One night it was a shiba welsh corgi. I was pouring coffee and getting ready for my trip to work, and I looked down to see it had stealthily eaten the bottom 18″ of my pants legs. It wiggled it’s bunny butt at me, and jumped up high enough to look me in the eye, and took a lazy tongue slurp out of my coffee.

I poured the rest of my coffee into his bowl and went to work. With a face like it had, what else was I going to do?