One of the cars in the driveway had a flat tire yesterday and this morning Der Bingle and Robert William* took care of the situation. I could be more descriptive of the atmosphere while that was going on, but I think I’ll just let it go. The fix got done.

BUT, while we were out there, I realized today’s weather was going to be like last year when we were faced with what may have been the largest tree in LaGrange County lying across the deck at Scott. Cameron and Summer and others with pruning saws infiltrated the rain forest willow fronds – sort of a Teddy Roosevelt adventure. It was so hot and so humid and perspiration just dripped. So, this morning, I could deal with the trauma of of tire problems in the heat – I just remembered the “tree weeks”  of  2010.

* My dad always called Robert by his full name – Robert William – I think because he felt self-conscious about RW being named after him. Of course, this wasn’t the first time around for this response; he always called his nephew Robert Allen by his full name as well.

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.

Couldn’t think of a post title.

Really, AmeliaJake, what was our first clue?

Okay, guys, I probably could have come up with something, but I’m in the blahs and my tummy is a little upset. Not much, mind you, but I’m going to have to dilute the nasal drainage stuff that has wound up in my stomach with something. Oh, what should it be? I suppose tasty would be a good adjective, albeit perhaps not the one wiser heads would suggest.

Ah, but speaking of tasty, I did have a nice lasagna supper with my cousins at The Village View Bed & Breakfast in Howe, Indiana. They come up yearly to Shipshewana, Middlebury and this year added Winona Lake. Anyway, I think this is the third year they have stayed at The Village View, and I joined them for Monday evening.

It IS a very nice place; the first year they came, I showed Mother the webpage and she agreed that it was tasteful and not overdone. And let me tell you Mother had her standards. I remember we remarked the owner used an old sewing machine stand for a vanity and that it worked out well.

See:

taken from photo included on Village View site

Since remarking on my stomach, I have used a package of Alka-Seltzer Cold Orange Zest tablets and I think I’m perking up . . . Sorry about the minutiae of achy talk, but with gallbladder operations reduced to laparoscopic procedures, what’s an old lady to talk about?

Oh, the folks here are giving me a suggestion, but I can’t quite hear it . . . Speak up, guys.

SHUT UP!

Oh . . . .

Yesterday, Mother’s; today, this little lawn. Ah, taking a deep breath . . . and getting at it. In a minute . . .  Soon . . .  We’ll see . . .

The Eating Machine has put herself on idle; I guess I slept it off. But now I am sensing there is a void in my life – funny how you can get used to something so fast and then, poof, you are left with no direction.

Ah, well, I’m sure something else will come along to temporarily obsess me. Too bad I’m not filthy rich or it could get interesting: Woman buys 24 new cars! Woman acquires beach front homes! Woman goes to Neiman-Marcus 37 times in one day! Of course, having a sudden interest in crime could work out bad: Woman robs 12 Piggly Wiggly Stores, then makes it a baker’s dozen. That would probably, in the deep recesses of my subconscious, link back to the food-eating that started it all.

Maybe I’ll reinvent myself today; what’s that internet site where you can get a patent?

I have been munching today, mostly on a Mexican “tasty” trend. At times my cheeks have been pushed out by food; I’m not exaggerating. I have just barely thought about the guilt of all the calories – barely thought of it and then dismissed it while leaning into the refrigerator. Oh, the thought of putting my face in a French Silk pie – now there’s a thought not to be tossed aside. Perfectly chilled chocolate with a whipped texture and a flaky pie crust . . . my cheeks just bulging with it.

I may eat too much and exercise not enough but constant eating is not my usual M.O. – that is probably fortunate since when people notice all the chips and sour cream and salsa gone, along with cookies and pie, I won’t be one of the usual suspects. Of course, writing it down here is a giveaway – but then the folks I live with don’t read this blog.

Twinkies. I just thought of them. Oh, the idea of sitting down and eating a whole box of Twinkies! Twinkies! Twinkies! Twinkies! GIVE ME A “T” . . .

I also feel like I want to TALK – A LOT. Which would mean I would be mostly talking with my mouth full. Actually, I need several boxes of Twinkies so I can share them and people would think, “Oh, who cares, let her talk – just keep the Twinkies coming.”

Boston Cream Pie . . . need, need, need.

*****

This moment has been brought to you by the AmeliaJake Crazy Times Society.

No pictures for this post, although I should have taken one of Cameron covered in dog hair after Shane’s examination. He could have been taken for the next doggie patient.

We at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse are not going to get real detailed here out of respect for out little fur buddy . . . so here’s just the gist of the story.

Shane now weighs 75 lbs  – muscle – and has a lot of hair everywhere.  He has become a fluff ball. Everywhere is fluff as I indicated before. We didn’t realize, though, how much fluff he had at one particular spot in that hairy everywhere.

Getting nourishment in through the mouth worked okay because it’s at the end of a snout that sticks out from the furball.  Getting the part that was judged not nourishment out was a different story.

So . . . there was bottom bathing, clipping with scissors, a bottom buzz clipping at the vet’s and an exam.  End result (no pun meant) is antibiotic by mouth, cortisone by mouth, cortisone spray and periodic close clipping of inferred but not definitely mentioned troubled area.

Shane has – get ready for it – no tail or an inverted tail which exacerbates the super fluff problem. Sigh.

Our regular vet was out of town so we took him up to the LaGrange Veterinary Clinic where Miss Alice used to go with my parents. He assured us that we didn’t have to worry about the “life-threatening” part listed on the internet; we had caught it early. So we are celebrating . . . Bottoms up! GROAN. Okay, I am on my way to stand in the corner.

See that blur? It is because Shane is giving the death shake to his Wubba.

Now, look, it would seem that his ears stuck in the wrong position . . .