The first day of Summer, the longest day of the year, was cold and rainy.
The first weekend of Summer was very pleasant, nice and in the upper 70s.
It got hot, really hot. I’ve been driving a new (to me) car for a couple of months. I haven’t gotten around to telling that story but I will at some point, maybe. I noticed that most of the wipers weren’t doing too well. The main driver side one had a big piece hanging off. So I went to Walmart and bought replacements. I parked in a nice sunny spot and proceeded to change the wiper blades. I believe the official temperature was 1232098509143859048 degrees. Within minutes I was covered in sweat. I began to get confused and disorientated trying to get the old wipers off the hook thingies. I exaggerate. It’s just really hard to get the blades off those little hook things. Once I had finished I did go inside, take a shower, and lay down in front of a fan for a bit. By a bit, I mean a 2-hour nap. It was Sunday.
Another one from the Boss’ best album.
Some night I woke up and I lay there in the dark thinking about things when I realized that I was only 5 years away from being 50 years old. I looked up at the ceiling and yelled out FUDGE. Only I didn’t say “Fudge.” I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the “F-dash-dash-dash” word! How did this happen? How did I get this old? Then I rolled back over and fell asleep.
Over the weekend I went and made dogs happy again. My Mom’s dog, pictured above in all his glory, likes to sleep in the bed with me when I am home. Late Saturday night I was sitting on the couch and Bud decided he was ready for bed. I flopped down beside me and gave a big sigh. He then dropped to the floor and thumped to the ground with an annoyed look on his face. When I finally told him let’s go to bed. He got all waggy and bounced into the bedroom.