During my morning walk yesterday I was chilly. It was also 64 degrees when I left my house.
Since when is 64 chilly? Not that long ago - last summer in fact - I seem to remember that that temperature was comfortable. I typically wore shorts - it's wrong to hide legs like mine anyway - and a tee shirt, just like yesterday. But yesterday I was cold enough even after 45 minutes of steady and fast paced hiking that I wished I had a jacket.
Is this another of those old folks things I must adjust to?
I had a spot of engine trouble heading up to Hessel in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula last Saturday. The cooling fan quit working and the Mackinac Bridge was congested. I had to exit the freeway and sit in a park until the traffic began to move. My newer older van would be okay without an operating cooling fan, if I could drive posted speeds. I parked by a park where I could observe the bridge and waited.
Another old gentleman (yes, I count as an old gentleman) sat next to me for a while, looking out over the crowded bridge. We chit chatted about this and that as he waited for his wife to come back from wherever she had been.
It turns out that he was on a team which excavated the remains of a wooly mammoth, or mastodon, from a field near Chelsea, Michigan several years ago. Here's a You Tube clip: Mastodon skeleton
The fellow I met operated the scoop shovel in the video. He showed me pictures of him with the skull of the beast. Stupidly, I didn't catch his name. And I won't call him Cloyce because that wouldn't be right. Still, meeting a guy who dug up a mammoth, well, that was really cool. Car troubles aside, there were worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.
Those who know me know I'm a Monty Python fan. This has nothing to do with them.
Me son Charlie came across a place called The Jerky Outlet, where you can buy jerky of various sorts. He bought peppered python jerky.
It really wasn't too bad. Very peppery: I suppose the packaging should have served as a clue to that. I'm not too sure how much of the taste was python and how much was seasoning. But what was not pepper tasted, well, not like chicken (we hear that often about exotic dishes, eh?) but like something I can't describe. Not beef, not pork. Oddly, sort of like fish, if I had to put a common flavor to it.
So there you have it. Not exactly a ringing endorsement. But neither a condemnation of python meat either.
We're still a great nation which has done great things. While we have our flaws, and who isn't flawed, we exist as a beacon of hope for many. And we are certainly not nearly as bad as even too many Americans seem to think. But hubris, like all error, is endemic to the human condition.
So I'll grill today and then go see fireworks tonight, and be thankful for the blessings of being an American.
God Bless the USA. Happy Independence Day everyone.
Ah, July 4th. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we celebrate our independence. But did you know we're actually off by two days?
The Second Continental Congress passed the resolution on independence July 2, 1776. Our actual Independence Day was yesterday. So what's the big deal about the 4th?
It was on the that day in 1776 that Congress approved the Declaration of Independence.
Six of one, half dozen of the other? Perhaps. Or maybe we should go all out American and recognize both days.
It's just a thought. The stores would love it though.
Where's Phil isn't quite like Where's Waldo. Very like our famous picture book friend, me brother Phil can get lost in a crowd. It's his strength. Even at that, I found myself wondering just where the hell he was last Thursday.
We run the Shop fairly loosey-goosey, so I wasn't all that concerned when he was a few minutes late. I assumed he had some little chore to deal with. I'd take it out of his pay.
When he wasn't around by the time I decided to go for lunch I thought, well, maybe he's got a doctor's appointment which I forgot about. I just locked up and went home for a sandwich.
But after lunch, still no Phil. I began to go from a little miffed to a point of some worry. You know, with all the usual suspects: there was an accident, he had our brother Patrick at the doctor's and some mildly emergency tests needed to be run, that sort of thing. Yet it wasn't like him not to call or text, so part of me was upset about that.
Right around 2:30 I decided that I might lock up and stop by his house. Patrick lives there too and if they weren't out together, maybe he knew what was up.
It was then that Phil pulled up by the Shop door. He walked around to the side and opened the sliding door of his van to remove the drains snakes he had picked up. That's when I remembered that I had sent him to Toledo to do some running around for the business. I had instructed him the night before not to bother coming up to the old barn but to head to Ohio when he was ready.
He might have told me he was actually going to do that, though.
Bulk stores tempt us to buy bulk; I suppose that's their purpose in life. But as I related before here: Oatmeal that's not necessarily a good idea.
Last August I bought a 52 serving box of flavored oatmeal, individually packed. I ate the last three this morning. On purpose: I was down to three and I was sick of eating oatmeal even once a week and I poured them all into a bowl and finished it off. Yes, mixed with boiling water. Who would eat oatmeal dry, except maybe Mr. Ed?
I am now officially sick of oatmeal. Sure, I'll have more some day. But it will out of the 12 serving boxes from the local grocery store. I'll never again buy it in such huge packages. I mean it.
Or at least, right this minute I mean it.
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