When you miss the sunset
While in to pay for a small amount of fuel (mower go juice), I was asked whether I’d noticed the sunset last evening. How to admit that I had missed (the sight) because my windows only witness the sunrise? I went with a simple negation: I must have been busy at that exact moment. Maybe another evening.
We had quiet time for most of the day, as the dozer dance is done until Monday. Waiting for some crushed gravel. I have to admit that the new area looks good, and solid. About the same size as a bungalow, so it could serve as a tenting ground in times of house overflow. Probably won’t.
Trump has decided to ask his new friend, Putin, over to the house in Washington. A play date, essentially. Man, he really doesn’t read the public press. This will not end well. Meanwhile, the citizens have looked up the definition of tariff in their Wiki, and decided that this is not good for the economy on either side of a border. Particularly if you happen to make cars for a livelihood. Again, public press. If you don’t/can’t read, the nuances of public opinion are not going to be evident.
And, in a case of terrible advice from your local bank manager, a man in Ontario decided to forward the funds from a will settlement to family members in the US. A cool half-million. Which the US government promptly confiscated, claiming a failure to complete certain paperwork. I don’t know, but wouldn’t PayPal be a better way to get things done?
