Yes,  my little buddies at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse are pleased that I returned from  a long errand over to Middlebury in much better mood. I did miss the dogleg on Ind 13,  though, and wound up going down Amish roads full of potholes. I’d say I saw more old-fashioned Monday laundry hanging out than I have in a long time.

Then when I saw a Taco Bell sign and felt myself craving it, it turned out to be a combination Taco Bell/KFC. Dang. I drove right on through the parking lot. I was obviously out of Amish territory at this point.

So I got home and Summer had done an excellent job at the cleaning tasks for which she was hired. Even a candle and an oil lamp lit. We fed the dogs and I sat down and thought about The African Queen and Katherine Hepburn drinking bottled water and the Humphey Bogart/John Huston duo drinking alcohol in the jungle; Hepburn was the one who wound up with the water-borne parasite.

I start thinking about the transport of safe water and a thought popped into my head: We could dehydrate it. I know, but it sounds doable on  paper. This would be a good argument for simple, straight-forward words, but I think I have a few hours fun left in the dehydrated usage.

Would an irrigation ditch be a dehydrated river? You just ship the river bed and then add  . . . well, you know.

Soon I have to tell you about the Patron Saint of Gnomes* who came out from Iowa. But gnomes are dandelion allies!!!! I guess we need to sit down for a pow-wow.

*No, it is not LZP; it is a figurine that sat on the knick-knack shelf at Der Bingle’s and LZP’s maternal grandmothers.