Lately, I’ve been noticing actual items here in my world where the screen door slams in the summer and we all use the big heavy door that opens and closely quickly in winter. If it isn’t quick enough, there will be a vocal slam.

Mostly, I suppose, it’s the hominess that I’m aware of overall – nothing chic, nothing really matching, mementos of the past stuck here and there, on a wall or windowsill. Essence of Norman Rockwell might come close to summarizing it.

The embroidery above is just a small thing, and when I’m not photographing it, it rests on the horizontal part of a window sash.

I just realized today is Flag Day. Because Flag Day is always the 14th, it can never be Friday the 13th. So it’s possible this keeps down the number of accidents happening while putting up a flag on Flag Day; there is the question of the Early Bird Flag Day Preparers when Flag Day is on Saturday – like today.

Maybe I should research ER data for yesterday, just for the heck of it. Or, I could just let this train of thought hop the rails and plunge into the Pit of Never Mentioned Again.

Although I had noticed that Friday the 13th was coming up this week, I didn’t give it any thought. I wasn’t thinking of the date today until I looked at the icalendar and realized the 13th . . . she was here. So, is the little hint of the superstition effect in the back of my mind going to trigger a mistake; is the superstition not a superstition, but an unproved phenomenon; or just what?

If I had not realized it was Friday the 13th, would it still be Friday the 13th – the sound in the empty forest thing?

I was in the waiting room of a therapist yesterday, waiting for someone, when a car’s engine began to rev and continued to do so louder and louder. The car was right outside the window where I was sitting, oh, maybe all of 10 feet away and it filled the room. I looked at another person waiting and remarked that “maybe we’re being abducted, although I always thought it would be a quiet, zapping sort of thing.”

He looked at me and, after a split-second, smiled politely. I didn’t say anything more.

Later, a lady came out and told him the therapist wanted to see him now. She sat down and she started a conversation during which she revealed she and her husband were there for marriage counseling. Among other things, she mentioned he had no free-flowing sense of humor. None.

I couldn’t help referring to the revving engine abduction remark and she grinned and said, “Welcome to my world.”

It is the 8th of June and, according to the dates on my posts, I have not been here since the 4th. And maybe that should tell me something about the quality of my content, but I’m not going to examine that thought any further.

I don’t know what I’ve been doing. Yesterday, Summer and I put together a new fire pit Der Bingle ordered from Amazon.com, but we didn’t have a fire. Yes, odd. We did eat grilled hot dogs. Uh, Friday Der Bingle got here early and we went for an early impulsive supper at a local Mexican place. They have improved their decor, but I thought the food bland and Der Bingle informed me that I am used to Tex-Mex flavoring. It was not bad; it was just sort of the equivalent of a midwestern beef stew.

Thursday I went to Fort Wayne to take people to the doctor and the office had moved from a place with a great parking lot abutting trees and overlooking a flood plain to a building with a parking garage. Well, maybe I will appreciate it come winter.

This is boring, I know, but I wanted to figure out if I had been in a fugue for the past days. Actually, I believe I managed to do both, which is a dubious achievement.

Today it started rainy and now the sun is out and I think it’s not going to rain anymore, but the left side of my nose is sore from the inside out. Pollen, I think – causing a sinus to enlarge and press a nerve. If anyone asks me how I am, I am not going to admit to having a sore nostril; it just sounds not right.

But maybe we are not right, period. Yesterday, three of us sat, watching a show about feral pigs on Netflix. One pig hunter was named Bubba and two of the dogs were named Bobo and Boo.

It is Wubba/fairgrounds time for Shane. Of the two of us, he is the more enthused about it.

Yesterday was hot and humid and we had the sunroof open on the Volvo; Today it is all grey and we are predicted to have rain, while farther south they will have thunderstorms. Today I turned the AC/Heating to OFF and I put on a light-weight hoodie thing. We are in between.

It is just as well it is a non-committal day because I have to work on overcoming my completely over the top hillbilly accent that Summer and I have been playing around with ever since she wrote a paper for Gothic Lit and I read it in a Honey Boo Boo style. I think I got too close to the whirlpool because I have to fight the continuing tug to haul out some verb tenses that don’t really exist, not to mention similes relating to alligators, squirrels, shotguns and fast-food cuisine. Actually, the fast-food and squirrels have shown up in the same category, but don’t imagine anything more, for your own sake.

I didn’t type enough to move the pictures far enough down the page – probably some revenge for using the word “pissed” and not changed it. Of course, “Boy, that urinated me off” doesn’t convey the same feeling. And it sounds stupid. I’ll just have to think up some new phrase that expresses disgust and frustration but isn’t offensive – or stupid. I expect it will take me some time.

So, what am I going to write about to move the pictures down? I don’t know. Although, I have noticed that people have taken to emphasizing their remarks by using a period after each word. So, to be in vogue, I would write: I. Don’t. Know. I’m not going to write that; I. Am. Not. A. Sheep.

I think I am going to mix up a sinus Alka-Seltzer, recline and read. It will fizz me off.

In the post below, I published two pictures but did not actually go to the blog to see how they came out. That was a mistake. When I saw this massive image on the pages, with the sidebar eating into crucial features, such as the finger on the highest-priced gas, I thought, “Well, . . .” Actually, I don’t need to quote myself exactly.

I switched over to text format and saw that both pictures had been posted as “full” so I took a guess and changed that to “large”; that was a good decision, but it wasn’t good enough. I didn’t feel like trying “medium” and being wrong, so I am letting it stay large and am just typing away to move the post in question down the page.

Since I have to make it farther down than I am already, let me also add that it is at this gas station where I noticed the pump asked you if you wanted a receipt, not while you were choosing credit/debit, car wash Yes/No, but after the gas had finished pumping and you had turned away to put the gas cap back on.

The receipt question did not remain until you indicated your choice. No, it stayed up for a couple of seconds and then, Poof, was gone. I imagine the company saves money on the paper not used because people miss the receipt question. I can imagine people at the gas company actually acting out scenarios with cardboard pumps and car props, all the time asking, “Now, what can I do to save the company money?” I can see calculators whizzing and popping up with a large amount of money saved if across the US, people miss the question that would cause the machine to put out paper.

It’s so simple. And the little finger on the high-octane gas? Oh, so clever. It pisses yo off; on the other hand, one time I was so intent on watching for the receipt question, I forgot to screw the cap back on and it hung out until I noticed a policeman behind me with lights flashing. As he walked up to my window, I wondered what I had done. He smiled and told me what I had not done – put the cap back on and he did it for me. It probably would have pissed me off, but I was too busy thwacking myself on the forehead.

I do not know why I am using the word “pissed” this morning; I hear the voice in my head, saying, “So, Daddy,” and yet I’m not actually going back and changing it. I guess I am going to Hell in a hand basket.

As I was getting gas this morning, I actually looked at the pump and found the subliminal side of the instructions interesting.