Major Auggggghhhhh

This morning I sat at the fairgrounds facing East while Sydney  sniffed and chased two squirrels and investigated other areas. He got in the car and I followed the lane around to the fairgrounds entrance. I was sitting – facing West now – waiting to turn on to Park, when I looked up and saw a really black horizon coming at me. Weather.com says it is not going to rain this morning and maybe we will have some sun this afternoon. I don’t know if I can trust them. Cameron suggested yesterday that I must have a threatening sky cloud that follows me around. He may be right. Oh, yeah, apparently we have already had our high for the day.

I just know I was meant to be a Southern Cal girl and not a 60- year- old Midwestern frump. Now I just have to figure out the magic formula that will do the trick. However, some of the folks here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse where we have rickety chairs and scarred tables and overstuffed sofas that are 50+ years old think my metamorphosis would upset the essence of the place. “AmeliaJake,” they say, “we can’t see you as a So Cal girl. Cargo pants and safari shirts with useful fishing or photographers’ vests don’t really translate . . . You don’t have a bikini personality, not to mention a bikini body.”

They can’t get it through their heads that with the right potion I would be young, tall, blonde and shapely. I would be sooooo cool. I think they are trying to gently tell me that I would still be a Midwestern, sudoku-working, sarcastic frump inside. Well, come to think of it, I can’t really visualize sushi peanut-butter or a big plate with a tiny bit of food elegantly arranged on it – a cracker, a dollop of PB and a carrot standing on end.

I suppose I should put any potion through trial protocols. Or maybe I will just sit here and hold my breath until I find myself in sitting on the beach . . . Uh, didn’t think that last thought through . . .  GASP . . . SNARFFLING AIR SOUNDS . . .