As the day crawls by
Minutes seem to meander by my window
Taking a rest as the world holds its breath.
Time is a place without name
A thought without mind
An answer with no question
Who will hold our hands as we walk this path?
The guideposts change directions
Smoothing the edges of our travels
Tuesday
Thursday
Tuesday
Friday
All Enemies, Foreign and Domestic – Part One
Or…the day I became a terrorist.
Fireworks. The mere word creates images in your mind of towering spires of multi-colored sparks, high pitched shrieks of spinning pinwheels and the acrid scent of gunpowder and burnt paper. Though J-Dam’s and Smart bombs could be viewed by some as grown up fireworks, one does not normally associate an innocent firework with their deadly counterpart.
In many states fireworks are illegal, California is one of those many. However, they are not illegal in Wyoming or Idaho, where I happened to be traveling at the time. The most direct and beautiful route from Ashton, Idaho to Cody, Wyoming is through the Park. What Park, you ask? THE Park, Yellowstone National Park. The crown jewel of all our National Parks, the original, the Grandfather, the reason we have national parks. If you have never been, I highly recommend you stop what you are doing, catch a plane or a train or a magic carpet and get your booty to Yellowstone. You will not regret it. But I digress…
One of the first landmarks of civilization that assault your senses upon exiting the Park at its eastern gate, Black Cat Fireworks Superstore! Picture a large grocery store, with shopping carts and all, each aisle piled high with explosives of all kind. After visiting with my cousin and her family, I stopped at this mecca of volatile bliss. Perusing up and down each aisle, overwhelmed at the firepower, I selected some small tokens of contraband to enjoy back home in my firework adverse state.
Back in my hotel I surveyed my new acquisitions, opening packages, reading directions, imaging the fun I will have on the Fourth of July. Not once was I ever concerned about trace elements, residue, fingerprints, cross-contamination, or other such CSI affairs. Why would I be? I’m not a criminal. At least not yet…
Fireworks. The mere word creates images in your mind of towering spires of multi-colored sparks, high pitched shrieks of spinning pinwheels and the acrid scent of gunpowder and burnt paper. Though J-Dam’s and Smart bombs could be viewed by some as grown up fireworks, one does not normally associate an innocent firework with their deadly counterpart.
In many states fireworks are illegal, California is one of those many. However, they are not illegal in Wyoming or Idaho, where I happened to be traveling at the time. The most direct and beautiful route from Ashton, Idaho to Cody, Wyoming is through the Park. What Park, you ask? THE Park, Yellowstone National Park. The crown jewel of all our National Parks, the original, the Grandfather, the reason we have national parks. If you have never been, I highly recommend you stop what you are doing, catch a plane or a train or a magic carpet and get your booty to Yellowstone. You will not regret it. But I digress…
One of the first landmarks of civilization that assault your senses upon exiting the Park at its eastern gate, Black Cat Fireworks Superstore! Picture a large grocery store, with shopping carts and all, each aisle piled high with explosives of all kind. After visiting with my cousin and her family, I stopped at this mecca of volatile bliss. Perusing up and down each aisle, overwhelmed at the firepower, I selected some small tokens of contraband to enjoy back home in my firework adverse state.
Back in my hotel I surveyed my new acquisitions, opening packages, reading directions, imaging the fun I will have on the Fourth of July. Not once was I ever concerned about trace elements, residue, fingerprints, cross-contamination, or other such CSI affairs. Why would I be? I’m not a criminal. At least not yet…
Thursday
Keep them doggies rolling...
Serious contemplations of leaving it all behind to become a ranch hand in Colorado.
Single life is not so bad, I sleep diagonally on the bed.
Pool tonite, thank goodness.
Surrounded by candy is not the best way to fend off secretary spread.
Wish people would just do what they say they are going to do, so I can do what I need to do.
Where did all this stuff on my desk come from? I'm such a pack-rat!
Only reason they hung around? Hmm... Wonder why?
Wet carpet and moldy baseboard do not a happy camper make.
Totally understand Michelle Pfieffer's song now.
Cleo's little eye is sore. Will try some eye drops to see if that helps.
I could live in Savannah.
I miss carne asada. And Rubio's fish tacos. Would anyone in SD like to overnight some to me? I would be forever in your debt.
Single life is not so bad, I sleep diagonally on the bed.
Pool tonite, thank goodness.
Surrounded by candy is not the best way to fend off secretary spread.
Wish people would just do what they say they are going to do, so I can do what I need to do.
Where did all this stuff on my desk come from? I'm such a pack-rat!
Only reason they hung around? Hmm... Wonder why?
Wet carpet and moldy baseboard do not a happy camper make.
Totally understand Michelle Pfieffer's song now.
Cleo's little eye is sore. Will try some eye drops to see if that helps.
I could live in Savannah.
I miss carne asada. And Rubio's fish tacos. Would anyone in SD like to overnight some to me? I would be forever in your debt.
Bad Day at Hallmark
So your daughter's a hooker
and that's ruined your day.
Look on the bright side,
it's really good pay.
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