Friday, and a list to do

After getting to sleep, after the neighbor fireworks show ended around midnight, morning was a slow start. Temperature was 74 at 7:00 am and humidity was around 60 percent. Yup. But there was a slight breeze making it good. Indiana weather.

Had two five gallon buckets of weeds that had been pulled, excised (that sounds better) to bag up before adding them to the trashcan. Dumped a bucket of dirt and rocks. Thanks to the squirrels for their mega lawn aeration. Washed buckets and plant carriers (from a greenhouse). Big bunch for recycling. Keeping some for here.

Two loads of clothes washed and dried. If the humidity were lower, they would have dried on the clothesline. Nothing beats the smell and feel of clothesline dried.

Just a lazy hazy Summer day.

And then at 7:00 pm, it began again. Day 3 of the neighborhood fireworks. They are cheaper after the holiday, so they were well supplied. The past two nights ran from 7:00 pm until around midnight. In vain hope, I was thinking that this night would be shorter.

I was wrong. Show ran until around midnight again.

For now, that’s the Friday wrap-up.

Storytelling

An old friend recently sparked a realization about the lack of personal storytelling. This inspires a desire to create a substantial, meaningful book of personal anecdotes.

Heard from an old friend recently. You know, one of those friends that out of the blue will send something. Commented that we both are pretty good about sharing quick moments, but not all that good about telling a story. We’re all great when we listen to or read stories. But not quite as engaging when we tell or share our own stories.

That gave me something to think and reflect on. What story do I want to share, and leave behind? Don’t worry, I plan to be around for a LONG time, so this will be a hefty book, something with weight, substance and stories that will give a fuller accounting to those who know me, or those who just like a good story.

Evening report

Definitely not quiet around here tonight. Sounds of fireworks emulating small arms fire, semiautomatic gunfire, mortars and other explosive sounds. Stepping out to water the garden the air smells of explosive powders. Choking smoke wafts slowly over the ground and bushes. Reverbrating through the humid air. The sounds bounce and echo throughout the street. Just wondering why this is acceptable conduct. This is the day 248 years ago that we declared we did not wish to be under the heavy hand of a king, not want to become serfs with no hopes, no dreams. Not again. I do wish the firework noise and bursts of light cease soon. Sleep awaits me. Until the morning and sunlight. Good night!