Cameron spent the week at the Ohio Redoubt and now he and Der Bingle are on their way home. Guess what is new on the flats of Ohio? Windmills. Not cute little Dutch ones, though – propeller-looking things.

July 1st. Already days are getting shorter – after six decades of living, I think I figured this out, if not too much else. So July . . . what do you have in store for us? I’m asking because I, moi, have made no plans. No plans for a cook-out on the Fourth, no plans for fireworks, no plans for Der Bingle’s birthday later this month. But then, again, that is my normal modus operandi.

I am supposed the help Someone today with the outline for a paper; I hate outlines – especially that old rule about you can’t have an “a)” without a “b) ‘ – because my mind does not want to work that way. I think most of the time I would write the outline after the paper – although often I was foiled by teachers wanting to SEE the outline before the paper was written.

And now here I am again with another blanking outline. And what is worse – I am a consultant. That means I will  be asked to come up with ideas that are going to be rejected out of hand, if not openly mocked. It’s Someone’s online class and the instructor is throwing words such as “culture” around without specifying the scope of the definition.

Oh, wait. Der Bingle will be home tonight and tomorrow maybe he and Someone can put their heads together . . . because we all know: “Grandpa is smarter than you, Grandma.”

Oh, look . . . July 1st fireworks.