All my troubles

I will not lie: since last week’s big Season One finale of the House Select Committee to Investigate the January 6^th Attack on the United State Capitol, I’ve been thinking about the tsuris that putting together a post-insurrection video message to the country cost Cadet Bonespurs. And I may or may not have watched the outtakes from that recording session about a squillion times.

It is rather sick-making that this disgusting husk of a humanoid had the nuclear codes for any period of time. But it’s rather delightful to watch him choke on saying he lost and to notice how he blames everything else for his inability to read. For example, we learned that “yesterday” is a hard word to say.

So, here’s the McCartney classic, “Yesterday”, which is not, in fact, at all hard to say. For any normal human being.

 

 

Not like the others

I was exiting the tavern at the local golf club one night when I noticed the child booster seats parked on the window sill. I like repeating patterns.

Frankly, given the height ratio of chairs/banquettes to tables, I think any toddler sat in these chairs would be at about eye level with their dinner.

However, what got me was that someone obviously left their take-out meal there. Maybe putting up their umbrella?

 

 

Hi, there

I hadn’t realized that hibiscus bushes can thrive in this area, but they can. I don’t think they’re native, but I’ve seen them around, either obviously cultivated or maybe left behind from someone’s gardening project.

Viz:

And the thing about this one is how enormous the flowers are; like, 6" in diameter:

 

Hitchhiking

 I was taking a mid-day walk Sunday (silently humming Noel Coward’s “Mad Dogs and Englishmen”) when I noticed this guy was hitching a ride.

I didn’t mind him, and my walking pace didn’t seem to bother him. But when I got into the sun, he disappeared.

 

 

 

Gratitude Monday: a drink of water

I’m grateful that we here in the District They Call Columbia have not been experiencing the extreme heat that’s afflicted much of the country. And, indeed, the type of extreme temperatures that have hit Europe and the UK this past week. Don’t get me wrong—it’s hot and miserable, but no more so than any other July around here.

Still, I was monstrously grateful yesterday morning, when I hit about the three-quarter mark of my four-mile circuit, to see someone had set out an Igloo cooler of water with cups on the W&OD Trail. It was only in the 70s, but that water absolutely hit the spot for me. And, I’m sure, other walkers, bikers and joggers.

When I got home, I still chugged down a liter of SodaStream fizz, but that cup of cool water on the trail was a blessing.