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Tuesday Tidbits





Proof positive that ghosts exist.  We can finally put that question to rest.

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The neighbor lady told the current Mrs. Blythe that the other day she heard a weird sound coming from our place.  She couldn't figue it out.  Then she noticed Whizzbang, aka, Dumbstruck the Wonder Pup laying at the window asleep.  She was snoring.


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So the Mueller Report is finished.  How nice to know our President is not a Russian agent.



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Daughter Kenzie and the present Mrs. Blythe have created a cottage industry of raising butterflies for the world.  You'd think they'd rather spend their time doing things for me, but evidently not. 


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Whizzbang and I take off around 4:00 am everyday (well, almost everyday) for a 2 1/2 mile walk around the block.  Half of that is on well-lit Roosevelt Avenue and the other half is on poorly lit Whitney Avenue.  I have been kind of apprehensive or a bit worried twice in the last week.  The first time was when a car slowed down in the Melrose Apartment complex to our speed and just hung with us a little too long.  I could see teens in the back seat looking out the window at us and smiling.  Okay, that was a bit disconcerting.  
The second time was on Whitney and a section of no streetlights.  A van came from the opposite direction and saw us and slowed down.  The passenger rolled down his window and said something I didn't understand and then turned right into another complex in the exit lane.  Whizz and I high-tailed it to the end of the hedges where we would have some cover if they came back.  They never did.  There's lots of interesting things going on at 4 in the morning.    


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Leave my chicken alone.

 
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We had that CEO type guy from Papa Johns who liked hawking his product and being a big shot TV personality.  Now we have the CEO from Dominoes doing the same schtick.  What is it with the egos of these pizza people that they want to be out front?


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 Yesterday's post is the last one on Monday.  It was becoming superfluous.  Schedule your coffee and crumpets accordingly.
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Did you know that the original word for "bear" has been lost.  People in the Middle Ages were superstitious and thought uttering the name would summon them.  The called it bear which means "the brown one" to avoid saying its actual name.  Huh.


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4th of July painting on our morning breakfast place, Cosmo's, which is decidedly Hispanic.  This rocket always reminds me of a teacher I had in college who said, "Everything is a phallic symbol."
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While leaving the above mentioned Cosmo's on Sunday, I noticed a potted plant on one fo the trucks parked in the lot.  That's Florida.
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 Till next week.

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