Yesterday, Shane and I went up to the LaGrange House and we mowed, for the first time this season. He herded me on the mower, barking when I paused to move an obstacle or just determine what area I was going to attack next. He would nip at the tires. He also did not trust me to do the job without his supervision; he refused to go and lay down lie down and just watch. (See, I was so rattled I myself made one of my pet peeve goofs.)

We felt like we had achieved something when we finished what we were going to do that day. I put the mower in the shed and walked up beside the car to the deck and out of the corner of my eye, I saw this: my front passenger window.

I had not mowed anywhere near the car. I don’t know where the zapping came from, but I was certainly zapped, or is that smited?

I am up although it is still dark out, and I am awake – up to a point. I am contemplating peanut butter, and maybe a couple of aspirin for morning stiffness. About 16 years ago, I used to get up in the summer at 4 am in order to go swimming at the YMCA by 4:30. We were on Standard Time all year round then and it would get light around five. The Y had not yet been remodeled and the front wall of the pool area contained very large east-facing windows; I really enjoyed watching the dawn.

I am thinking about that this morning because if it were then, I would be in water. As it is, I am thinking about stretching out and doing the “sofa float” and wondering how much water would get in a yawning mouth.

One thing about that summer, though . . . I was very CLEAN and my scent was Eau de Chlorine.

Emotions, justified or not. Attitudes, positive or negative. It’s all human nature, but when it’s less than attractive, we, the ones sporting the emotions and attitudes, are often given to cutting ourselves a little slack by referring to human nature.

I’ve been sitting here, staring at the photo in the post below and re-reading the left sidebar. I know I have come to this site complaining about this and that and feeling low and sorry for myself.

Well, I’m ashamed of that. My name is Jody – four letters. I am 65 years old. That little girl over there in the picture – the one with the be-scarfed Queen Elizabeth over the shoulder look – well her name is Jody – four letters. She was attacked by a disease when she was less than two years old and had so much taken away over the next 24. But not her spirit. Her dad wrote about that.

I remember him telling about her sitting in a baby seat next to another baby in a similar seat. The other one was grousing and Jody, Jody was just smiling and beaming away. I can still hear his voice saying, “My kid . . .”

Two Jody people – only this one writing does not have a fatal gene that destroys nerve tissue. It prompts me to say, “Jesus, I’ll never feel sorry for myself again.”

Of course, I will. Human nature, dontcha know. But I won’t be proud of it.

Iowa, 2014. Photograph by LZP
“Miss Jody’s Tree”

Not the PC kind, the glass things in walls . . . those windows. Yes, I washed just a few; it was traumatic. Then I came in and wandered into another part of the house and looked out a window and my inner essence went auuugggghhhhhhh – because this house has lots of windows and all of them need washing.

One might think I am in a bad mood this morning; well, not really. Although while typing that I remembered the line from Next of Kin – the one that was vaguely: This ain’t bad, but it’s coming.

It is overcast and chilly out . . . and Monday. The grass is very green and getting taller and maybe I might go out and mow it, but I think it is going to rain, and that would be water coming down on me and my electric mower.

I have already had one water/electric incident today: Someone left a 52 oz size Icee glass on the table with about two inches of melted Icee in it. When I went to pick it up, my phone slipped from my fingers and fell in. We will see how well this Otter Box works. Perhaps you heard my screams; they were not unlike those uttered when hungry Summer waited for her frozen pizza to cook and then when the timer went off, she realized she hadn’t turned the oven on.

I did come here yesterday, but as I stared at the blank post form, it came to me that I had no worthy “moos” to document – not that that has stopped me before. Yesterday, however, it did; I think it was a one-time thing.

Der Bingle introduced me to a new method of peanut butter eating; you take a tortilla, warm it in the microwave, spread some PB on it and roll it up. It is quite chewy and satisfying. Although I owe much to the foldover, I do appreciate this new trick, and no, I am not going to do any “old dog” reference. Oh, dear, that didn’t work out.

Bob is almost done with sunbathing (the feel of the space heater) as he sits resting after his invigorating swim in Lake Michigan.

Oh, excuse me while I run and get his sunglasses . . .

Bob the Bear, not to be confused with Bob the Builder of whom I know almost nothing, came from the Ohio Redoubt for a sprucing up because even Der Bingle thought Bob might be a little . . . grungy. As I type, he is in the treatment machine. I was planning on waiting until everything was complete until posting, but when I looked at his before picture, I realized I may have to run fast when the lid opens on the, you know, treatment machine.

I am unmotivated today, as I was yesterday and the day before. However, it is Friday and if I can’t get motivated on a Friday, then I might as well turn in my “Some connection with Normalcy” card.

Decades ago Friday was the day I liked because I didn’t have to do my homework, even though I knew, KNEW, I’d be bemoaning it at 10pm on Sunday night.

I suppose I could wash my hair today; I saw my reflection in the car window when I was getting in to take Summer to school. It was kooky, even for me.

Oh, I know what I will do today: I will go around picking up my marbles.