Got grease?
Following the visit of the kids last summer, I received advice that (going forward) my garage door would need to be lubricated, eventually. Not sure where the kid in question picked up such knowledge, but after a quick Google consultation, I am now the proud owner of a spray can of lithium grease. Next step, find out where the door squeaks, I guess.
The car was “mine” today, so his hairiness and I had to decide how best to use such a boon. We opted for groceries and a hardware store visit. In another life, I might have explored “the final frontier”; instead, I purchased wood screws (and that can of grease). Adventures of the aged.
We (OK, the dog was just a passenger) also went for foodstuffs; he got another bag of kibble for the eventual need to refill the bowl. He’s not picky, so I can afford to go with budget “yellow bag” products. That also works for me, up to a point.
And with our day behind us (by ten in the morning) we returned to our regularly scheduled routine, wherein one tries to sleep more soundly than the other. The dog wins, pretty much always. After all, unless the garbage truck rolls by, or a ghost traverses the front yard (again, happens regularly), the dog has no reason to notice the subtle advance in the day.
Hey, it’s the weekend. I think. According to the calendar, the rest of the area is moving from work mode to rest mode. Been there, done that, got the tee.
