A second picnic, if you are keeping track
Summer makes it easy to throw a whole winter of good habits out the window. Food: where you can get in the car and find a food truck, or a canteen, or a restaurant with a window that sells take-away food. Not to be confused with tonight’s destination that advertised food to “sortir”. Dictionaries don’t always provide the “mot juste”, just saying.
Also, summer: where the rules for radio reception are there to be broken. Sitting in the car, admiring a solitary heron in the wading water and listening to the news from a station in Grand Rapids, MI. Not that it matters, but getting close to 2100 km for your watts out is pretty cool. Skews the advertising stats, but pretty cool.
Having eaten, we decided to try some back roads. Did you know that there are virtual suburbs near the shore, locally? I mean, dozens of small homes (with nobody inside, cuz Covid). You can’t see them from the highway, but the tax collector has an eye on every one of them. Not sure I want a lane which can’t be used for six months out of every year, and where the price per utility pole ups your perceived value. I don’t live in a cottage. I don’t want a cottage. I hope these happy homeowners will receive the permission to return this year.
The big Trump for Tulsa rally seems to have fallen on its nose. Instead of the bragged about “million ticket requests”, the tally by the local fire marshal came in at around six thousand.
And son #2 wondered if I had a backup of his digital photos, from eight summers back? Of course I do. Now they’re copied to a microSD card, inside an envelope, already mailed.
