Water Music

Travel to and from anywhere on Carlton Bay requires many things; especially, a disciplined bladder.

While on a return trip to Runamuk from Loyola, this became most evident.

Liquid stimulants were used to help keep my eyes open for the return trip to Runamuk, and just as every action results in a corresponding reaction, the consumption of fluids demanded an urgent reaction. Fortunately, I had access to a rest stop, and enjoyed the brief, but oh so happy rest.

Although the rest stop had working flushes, I couldn't help but remember the days of my youth when the roadside rest stops involved outhouses resting above underground concrete cisterns. The most memorable characteristic of these facilities- beyond the smell- was their significant acoustic qualities. Basically, it was a large, and loud thunder jug!

All that noise was more than a little embarrassing for the bashful little guy I was. Often I was escorted to the outhouse by my mother, so to cover the noise, I would sing while answering the call of nature. Many was the time that my mom would compliment me on my singing of "Jesus Bides Us Shine"!

Little wonder I sang a little "Singin' in the Rain" while I answered the call of the wild this last time!

Later, Mushers!

Dog Days

The temperatures have soared recently into the high twenties and higher. For someone as well insulated as myself, this is not a lot of fun. To top it off, FCC and her aunt are heading south toward the mystical land of retail for some dog days shopping. (The horror! The horror!)

This leaves the boys (a dog and two cats) and I to bach it for a few days.

I think the wisest thing for me to do is to fill the pool we bought so Fang could keep cool during times of trial such as these, and then use my dominant position in the pack to get more or less submerged. I'd go the the shore, but the last time I went swimming Green Peace tried to tow me into deeper waters!

Got to break out the hose and my Best of Jimmy Buffet CD. I'm off to Margaretta Ville!

Later, Mushers!

Marital Bliss

This weekend was spent in Nuddude celebrating the marriage of the FCC's cousin's daughter.

It was a lovely service, a lovely reception, and an all-round wonderful time.

Of particular interest was a list of important bits of advice for married folk. One piece of sage advice was "Never go to sleep angry."

I am pleased to report that I have never gone to bed angry. Generally, I go downstairs, sit in my favorite chair and quietly stew. OK, I occasionally mutter, snort, and snarl quietly to myself, but generally, I stew.

After a few hours, I am tired enough that I can sleep the sleep of the innocent, or something close to it.

Must run, I hear the boss calling me.

Later, mushers!