I Googled The Big Heart Times, which covers Osage County, Oklahoma, and got this message from Google:

Warning – visiting this web site may harm your computer!

I clicked on a link to get more information and was presented with this explanation:

Safe Browsing

Diagnostic page for barnsdalltimes.com

What is the current listing status for barnsdalltimes.com?

Site is listed as suspicious – visiting this web site may harm your computer.

Part of this site was listed for suspicious activity 1 time(s) over the past 90 days. *

What happened when Google visited this site?

Of the 77 pages we tested on the site over the past 90 days, 2 page(s) resulted in malicious software being downloaded and installed without user consent. The last time Google visited this site was on 2012-06-06, and the last time suspicious content was found on this site was on 2012-06-06.

This site was hosted on 1 network(s) including AS26496 (PAH).

Has this site acted as an intermediary resulting in further distribution of malware?

Over the past 90 days, barnsdalltimes.com did not appear to function as an intermediary for the infection of any sites.

Has this site hosted malware?

No, this site has not hosted malicious software over the past 90 days.

How did this happen?

In some cases, third parties can add malicious code to legitimate sites, which would cause us to show the warning message.*
*(Emphasis mine)
Next steps:

Return to the previous page.
If you are the owner of this web site, you can request a review of your site using Google Webmaster Tools. More information about the review process is available in Google’s Webmaster Help Center.

As I understand it, The Big Heart News was purchased by Louise Red Corn a few years ago; she was formally a writer for Tulsa World, and still contributes to that paper.

I visit someone who is 95 and is very hard of hearing. We have discovered that if she removes her hearing aids and puts the type of earphones that have little, soft, round rubber balls that snuggle in her ear, she can once again enjoy music.

And I’m happy about that. Yesterday was Glenn Miller. I’m lining up Benny Goodman. We’ll probably stay away from heavy metal . . .

I’ve been bombarding Rose with so many needs for counseling and comforting that she has just been run ragged (Oh, sorry) with trying to help me. Last night, she broke down during a call to Der Bingle, sobbing out, “Nothing’s ever going to be all right again.”

So, Rose is going to rest herself and Sophie will shoulder the workload for a while. Remember, however, Sophie is the one with the high top sneakers and her therapy is a swift kick to the head and/or butt.

We are hoping Rose feels better soon. Real better, real soon.

I wanted to distract myself; I wanted to focus my mind on something not connected to me. I downloaded a free Kindle book  –  a mystery –  and it was not bad at first for my purpose. But at the end, I found myself looking inward  because I had spent a few hours reading a story that wound up 200 miles east of the recently torn-down Berlin Wall and concerned a 50-year-old Nazi scheme to recreate the “missing link” by  mixing the genes of a human an ape.

I actually read this. Why? It is not like watching a horrible movie in which you look for zippers in the monster suit! Sometime “free” costs you.

Shane, our dear dog who came to us from Quentin in Houston, had a habit of digging holes. Occasionally, he relapses and I have filled the holes with top soil, at one point wondering if eventually we would have to climb steps to get to the backyard.  Der  Bingle was out at Rural King and saw that shrubs and trees were 20% off; he decided to plant blue run junipers in each hole. We did. I don’t know where it will end . . . or disaster will occur when Shane, an Australian Shepherd, decides he must herd them – blue-green sheep, don’tcha know – and winds up pulling the stubborn little guys into a definite grouping.

That is the type of situation in which you open the door, assess what you see, close the door and turn away. Ah, you see, I have steered you away from dwelling on the fact that two people put shrubs in holes randomly dug by a dog.

I carry gas in the trunk when I go to LaGrange to mow; well, a couple of days ago,  a wee bit spilled.  This is bad because Der Bingle is always remarking about how my car smells like gasoline. Except it hasn’t since last summer, but now the dratted cycle resumes. The really unfortunate consequence is that I had a full pack of Diet Coke in my trunk, and, yes, maybe some gas got on the cardboard container and wicked its way to the cans.

I discovered this circumstance this morning when I went out to get the virgin pack, put it in the back vestibule and then raised a can to my face.  Do I want to wash the 23 remaining cans or put a sign up that advises consumers to wash their own cans?

Sigh. I believe I am going to have to do the wash option. I get myself in the most unusual predicaments; it has got to be a curse.

I can’t put this off . . . so see you later.

I decided to work on my sagging jowls, which I have not done for some time because the suggested exercise is to purse your lips as if you were going to give someone a kiss and then try to touch the tip of your nose with them.
That makes my upper lip really wrinkle.

So I experimented and pressed my lips together very tightly and try to reach the tip of my nose with the center of them. It’s kind of a unique look, dontcha know?

What?? Do I hear screams of “I’m blind; I’m blind.”

Oh, a little UPDATE: Warning – Clicking on the picture makes it get very big.

I mowed for six hours straight at the LaGrange house yesterday; well, I was riding, so that helps. The part out back was very tall because mowers were in the shop due to some little accidents I’ve documented here, but don’t choose to revisit. The embarrassment factor, dontcha know.

Fortunately for me, it has been extremely dry there; rain showers and storms have skirted around it for several weeks so I did not have to contend with what would be the equivalent of chopped spinach clogging the mower and overworking its engine. On the other hand, if I were sensitive to pollen, I would have been draped over the steering wheel or flat out on the ground, covered with yellow. My engine would have clogged up.

Now, today, we are supposed to get rain, and that’s okay because the grass isn’t hanging over my head anymore – nor is it tickling my knees. Yes, the rain will encourage the battered little blades to green up and grow, but that’s better than the little dust bowl we’ve been experiencing.

I wonder if I have jinxed myself into lots of moisture and a summer of mowing and mowing and mowing. Oh, well, right now I’m just glad I didn’t put off the marathon mowing until today.

A gold star, please.

I was just scanning the Internet headlines and there it was: SCIENTISTS CONFIRM EXISTENCE OF ‘OLD PEOPLE SMELL’

When you are past 60, it is just not thrilling to think of yourself in this light. And I am not going to listen to any late night comedians for a few days.