Uh, I tried for a group picture and LZP, of course, has a variety of expressions – one of which was fairly normal. Unfortunately, in that one Der Bingle was not as his best. So we tried a little tweaking:

Here are the original four shots.

I have been scatterbrained of late, more so than usual, and I am having trouble organizing anything – even little post tidbits. I don’t see improvement on the horizon, so I have decided to adapt and just open a post and drop off any thoughts that are falling out of my head at that time.

Well, I’ve mentioned going to Iowa, but I didn’t say that we were taking someone else – the Monk. The Monk is a ceramic statue that Cameron and I saw a couple of years ago at the Catholic Rummage Sale; I think it supposed to be St. Francis of Assisi, though he was missing the usual birds on his shoulder and his hand. We didn’t buy him. When we got home, however, we heard the call of The Monk and Cameron went back and purchased him and brought him home on the scooter, balanced between his legs. Not something he woke up thinking he would be doing.

Anyway, The Monk moved around from job to job here and for a while we tried to convince Der Bingle he needed a monk at the Ohio Redoubt. Then one weekend, Der Bingle and Summer were tossing a Shane toy and Summer knocked The Monk and his fall decapitated him. I probably had the body and head sitting around here for two, three months.

Then, when it was Iowa Time and we were taking the sundial that had been in Der Bingle and his brother’s maternal grandpa’s back yard to LZP, I decided The Monk should go as well. He has a new job now and a new name: St. Bernardus. He’s named after the traditional Der Bingle/LZP sharing of St. Bernardus Christmas Ale. (It was saved from Christmas and imbibed on a sweltering Iowa afternoon and evening.)

See . . . his head is back on, thanks to LZP who is pictured here in his fez, which seems to be a cut-off gnome hat, or not.

Yesterday morning I went to Fort Wayne for my blood testing appointment and on the way home I pulled into a gas station that was advertizing $3.17 a gallon. I filled up. When I left I noticed the sign jumping to $3.54. YES!

Yesterday afternoon I took others to Fort Wayne for appointments and on the way there – on Anthony Blvd, where Concordia has its stadium on one side of the road and the the school on the other – teens were lined up to cross the street from practice. They watched the traffic and took off when the going was good. One pair of guys, though, walked right out in front of me and I had to stomp on the brakes. Later I discovered this jolt had caused a gas can in the trunk to fall over and start leaking. That ‘later’ was when we came out from the appointment and got in the car to drive home. Hot day but the windows were open.

I have been researching ways to deal with this. Each article cautions not to use a match. Okay. Makes sense. But there are no really good suggestions so I will be experimenting . . . I hope I just don’t get the spark of an idea. GROAN.

Not that this is a special day that will show up on a history quiz; no title came to me, so I went with the date, which is fine for those of using this calendar system.

Der Bingle sent me a picture of Lilio making new friends and visiting at the Ohio Redoubt, but it didn’t come through on my email and I could not forward it from my phone. I’m not certain what is up with Sprint, but maybe there is some sort of National Security surrounding Lilio.

Today is a trip day to Middlebury and Shipshewana in LaGrange County and it is supposed to be 96 degrees. Tomorrow is predicted to be 98 . . . and we still have no – as in zippo, nada – rain. Early this morning when I was taking my walk, I glanced at a picture mounted on glassed in porch – one of those things you don’t see while driving – and it was of a blasted politician I can’t stand. I did not go up and grab it and smash it, but since I was listening to the overture of The Longest Day on my ipod, it was a pretty hard action to resist. I will say this, it gave some extra oomph to my pace.

You know what I’m doing here, dontcha? I’m delaying getting cleaned up so I can go sweat in the 96 degrees.

Well, to the task . . .

Thanks to Jake and Der Bingle, we were alerted to THIS SITE.

Okay, this is me, AmeliaJake, at the nursing home playing around with my camera and being silly. I think was telling Kathryn about taking photos in Iowa.

Well, I did. Here’s the river with Iowa in the background.

And here’s the bridge that got us there.

I promised I wouldn’t publish photos willy-nilly on the blog. I think I lied, but I will not mention any names as pictures pop up here and there. I will say this, there is a good reason for the continuous burst mode.

And here’s Der Bingle – you would almost think he psychically saw the picture at the start of this post.

LZP and I talked bits and pieces, now and then, on and off while we were in Iowa. He mentioned that he has come to the conclusion he can’t be responsible for other people’s obligations or feelings. (Obviously, we are not talking the deliberate ‘hurting of feelings aspect.) I am thinking I need to accept that. You can do all you can to help others but you just can’t do the actual task for them.

We also talked about there being no need to voice sinister thoughts – sort of a stronger “if you can’t say anything nice” rule for hardcore folks. That is soooo hard for me, but probably a wise attitude – better than my wiseguy persona, at least.

And, of course, we talked about the weather. Can you imagine a heat index of 115? I survived it . . . unless I’m typing this in a heat stroke coma dream.

I’m back, but this is a picture of me waiting for Der Bingle to start the car in Iowa and begin our trek eastward – well, the car did the work.

The little shark tucked in my seatbelt is Crazy Eyes; LZP would move him around and his eyes would spin and LZP would say, “What you looking at?” And Jody would laugh. We’re calling him CE for short because, well, he’s a little sensitive about the crazy moniker. Actually he is CEO for Chief Executive, Ocean.

The only real drama on his ride to Indiana came at the end when I unsnapped my seatbelt and forgot momentarily that it was not also an AmeliaJake belt and that he would fall if I got out of the car. BUT THEN I REMEMBERED and he was safe. Which reminds me, I must make it a habit to put him on the back of the sofa and not on the seat.

He’s settling in and Rose made sure he brushed his teeth last night. I’m certain we’ll all be chums.