It has been a long long time since I'd been to Sunnyfield in Kewanee. Back in my G-Burg days we made the trip quite often as we were feeding our landscaping demons. I wanted to try my hand at a little ornamental grass for the Cabin, mostly to keep the bears away. Same place, same neat stuff, same high prices.
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Neighbor Tim paid his Superbowl wager and then some. Not only did I get a cool twenty but this beverage holder for the bike. I'll probably have to use it for gas on the trip as the Beast is a thirsty bitch.
I think it was Ben Franklin who opined, "A payment in the hand keeps a friend off your back." Or was that Trump? Or maybe I just made all that up.
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I'm keeping my Florida schedule, which means up at 4:00 am. While inspecting the Cabin for wayward woodchucks and bleating beavers one early morning, I saw this guy clinging to the side.
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I'm the last guy to judge on what someone does to make their days easier but...
this caravan of bikes parked on main street in Emerald City was just a bit too cutesy for my taste. Perched on each of the bikes, and somewhat hard to see, are stuffed animals. To each his own and if that's what it takes to get the SO to go along, then OK, I guess. (Sexist remark? Perhaps but I've seldom/never seen men use stuff animals on their bikes. Old cars? Yes.)
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The Wombie's Jeep is fun to ride in.
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Northlandia is no place for diets. I...M...U...S...T...B...E...S...T...O...N...G
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Word has filtered up that I am being transferred out of Bedlam By the Bay to another residence. More later.
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I liked The Revenent. I didn't think I would.
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Note to family in Florida: Having a horrible time. The bike rides are too long and all those stops for adult hydration! when will it end? The cool breezes from Canada are downright chilling, maybe Donald should build something up there, too. All that nasty food you can't get in Florida like tenderloins, river cat, Jerry's pizza, rhubarb pie and that special vanilla taste from Hy-Vee bakery. You guys are so lucky down there in the stifling sauna-like heat and the yards that only need mowing every six weeks. I'll do the best I can in this self-imposed exile - strong upper lip and all that rot, what what!
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