A natural break

There are times when someone starts talking and just keeps going; I know the analogy is often made to a dam bursting. Sometimes the dam holds. I don’t think that is the case here. I don’t believe there was any pressure on my “dam” and I don’t think the “water” level was especially low.

There was nothing dramatic; I just took a natural break because I didn’t feel like saying anything. Actually, I didn’t deliberately take the break; it just happened. Other things happened and I could write about them now, but it’s all everyday this and that, and although that may be what I normally write about, I don’t have any urge to catch up on the ordinary.

I did go to Fairborn; I did go to City Barbeque; we had a power outage with half the apartment; I watched a movie on my ipad; I had to get air in the tires when I drove home and, oh, I need to replace a headlight. That wasn’t catching up – that was listing. Anyone who knows the slightest thing about AmeliaJake knows that catching up is a drawn-out story with asides and outright digression and, possibly, elaboration. Just so we are clear.

This leaves me with no real content, and, as I have said before, that has not stopped me from typing. Drivel is often therapeutic for the writer – blasted boring for the reader, though, I’ll give you that.

Oh, I do have one topic that has brought a chuckle from me: we went to Home Depot and Meijers and I was curious to look at the seasonal offerings. I would not say I walked into a mystical area of Christmas fantasy and magic, but it sure as Hell was interesting. I took lots of pictures and sent most to LZP and I intend to show them here – later today, after I have moved them from my phone.

Let me pique your curiosity by mentioning the acrylic pink ballerina pig lawn ornament. Yes, even I was taken aback, and I knew the visions of a Dickens’ Christmas were fading fast with the continued increase in the number of generations following mine. I just didn’t how close the shark was to being jumped.

Yesterday was beautiful and driving back was a pleasure; it was a chilly day of warm earth tones – the beige and tan of harvested fields, the stands of woodlots, not yet nothing but sticks, but decorated with the occasional unfallen leave and a brilliant blue sky showing through were foliage used to be. Because of the unseasonably good weather, the GPS still took me on the back roads of flat Northern Ohio – the type of lonely, narrow roads where you can drive right down the middle to put equal pressure on your tires.

It was the type of rural flatness where you really have to look for intersections with even smaller county roads. These roads don’t have fancy suburban names; they usually mark the villages and townships and/or homesteads that link together. I know when I come to Liberty-Union Road, I am getting close to Hwy 30 with its four lanes and median strip. In Ohio, the speed limit on 30 is 70 mph; in Indiana, it drops to 60/65. I am always prepared for this and don’t even bother looking for police cruises – I just slow down. Lots of people pass me pushing 75 plus and I usually then pass them sitting on the shoulder with lights flashing behind them. It helps to be in the know, especially now that some of the troopers have cars That blend right in and little road twists and hillocks that make for surprise sightings.

I am now going to relax with a foldover and a drink and then return to my night’s sleep. I really wouldn’t have to; I fell asleep early in the evening and feel quite rested, but down pillows and comforters are as inviting as an epic poetic siren. I wonder if it is a coincidence that “home” makes up the most of Homer.