We started out in North Liberty, Iowa, which is in the eastern part of Iowa, just a wee bit north of Interstate 80, and not all that far from the World’s Largest Truck Stop and the Mississippi River. However, when you are driving it, it takes a lot longer than just saying it. You do, though, eventually cross the Mississippi, which is not all that exciting on an Interstate bridge, as opposed to the older steel gridwork bridges that had mesh roadways, through which you could see the river. And some of these bridges didn’t just sit there; they pivoted to let barge traffic through.

And, in front of us, loomed Illinois. That would be the second state and I’ve grown tired remembering it.

Of course, I indicated I was going to Iowa, and I even have pictures of being there, uy of course they are fake. I was abducted and probed and returned (do not read rejected) to my present identity. The, The Alens, found me to be such an intereting specimen that I was puy into the “Yo Be Observed” category.

I only let you in on this so you can guard what you tell me regarding UFOs, for your own good. This post may or may noty self-destruct at any time.

Typing this has been a bit of a challenge because I havr an oversized bandaid on my finger. This injury did not result from Alien probinh, but from careless use of a butter knife. Yes. I may be fascinating to Aliens, but it apparently has nothing to do with dexterity, or general competence with my body. That was obvious to anyone watching me with a Great Dane year old dog whose snout was above my elbow.

This undoubtedly reads like total drivel, but i am assured it is a temporary hangover effect of the Alien Experience.

So another post, right after the “look for me when you see me” one? I’m off to Fairborn and then to Iowa. I’m taking so much stuff; now why am I doing that? I guess it is because I can and because it’s a car trip and I don’t have to worry about overhead bins or under the seat luggage. Now I just have to get where I’m going without a ticket – the speeding kind, oh, and getting back without one. Of course, I don’t think I’ll be driving much when I’m with Der Bingle – he is an in your face backseat driver. The problem with me being a passenger is that I am almost never a passenger and, second, I get car sick if I focus on anything other than the passing countryside. It occurs to me that I should document this trip with photos out the window; hey, they are digital.

I probably should stay away from selfies – me with the blurred background behind me. Guido is going; yes, he is going to roam – just a little inside joke for someone.

I haven’t been posting very much – a little here and there. I think it is a phase. I think it is a bunch of stuff going on at the same time. I think it is fugue. I think maybe I’m making excuses. Well, see if I bounce back or if I go bouncing over the fence and down a hill and fall in a river and wind up . . . someplace.

That temperature was not when I got up to take Alison to work; that temperature was around 9 O’clock and I actually turned on the space heater for a bit. June 27, global warming, go figure. Being the weekend before the 4th of July, I wondered how many people were settling into their vacation homes on the lakes around here. How many people were camping?

I remember when we bought this swing, Der Bingle and I; it was when we lived in West Chester, Ohio and I was in my mid-40’s. It hung from a tree in our backyard where we would swing our grandson. That was a long time ago. That yard was a huge hill in front, and a narrow level strip right behind the house which turned into a slope and woods. We played croquet out there in back on a modified course which included “Dead Man’s Wicket.” It was on the steepest part of the slope and was right at the woods’ edge. Getting through it could take more strokes than the whole rest of the game required.

The swing is now dirty and in a shed out back, one of my croquet buddies is all the way down in Texas and part of my heart is on that spot where Dead Man’s Wicket stood.

I have been trying to rescue part of the hedge from a grapevine – little did I know when I started that grapevines can be as much like a forest as a hedgerow. I believe I am going to set up a support a bit away from (what is left of) the hedge and let the vines I left have at it.  I’ll tell you one thing: grape vines are sneaky little critters.

I should set up a wreath-making project to recycle all this grapevine, but it reminds me too much of basket-weaving at the funny farm, which is undoubtedly politically incorrect, but never you mind.

I have a band-aid on my little finger from when the pruning saw slipped and I registered an “Ouch” and then no more pain, but did notice red spots on the ground where I was walking. There are superficial cuts on my third and second finger, so this is probably in the running with scissors category and makes me wary of using a chain saw.

Der Bingle had some excitement last night when a Cousin Vinny’s Pizza deliveryman pounded on his door at a quarter to one. It turns out the fellow in the apartment below, B as opposed to Der Bingle’s D, had ordered it and eventually he ran out to prevent it from being hijacked. To go from sleeping to trying to go back to sleep with the lingering aroma of pepperoni is traumatic.

I have downloaded a couple of Kindle Unlimited books and think I will start relaxing and take a break from my walking schedule. It is a little after five; in the winter it would be dark and I know I should be out doing something in the summer’s light, but . . . never you mind.

I have take a certain medicine for 40 years. It was on Wal-Mart’s $4 list and so I didn’t use insurance. Now, Wal-Mart cannot offer it for that price, but rather wanted to charge $183. Why, because the drug manufacturer’s have raised the price – a lot. I am going to cite an article HERE about another drug that has been affected. It is digoxin and has been around since 1785. In the article, you will read how profits soared for the manufacturer and how an 85 year old lady went from spending  $1.15 for a three-month supply to $30 dollars for one month.

Why, it’s almost like getting someone hooked on drugs at corner by the schoolyard.

Yeah, that recitation of all the outdoor work I’ve been doing in the last post . . . and Rose’s comment about taking me to task for my pride? Well, Rose sent me up to Lagrange county to work in the yard there. It was in the 70’s and the humidity was 80%; we have had so much rain that the end effect has been tropical forest with big weird weeds. Rose had me mow all the grass, some places twice because it had grown sooo tall. She had me weedeat and wade into green growth that no doubt included poison ivy; she had me prune and snip branches and all she gave me was a can of bug spray and some bottles of water.  And the past two days have just been starters – she’s sending me back this week, with black mesh to cover some areas, weed killer for others, more spools of weedeater string, clippers, trimmers – you name it.

She’s a taskmaster, that Rose. I saw a least one snake, which may have been a baby which I may have stepped on. There was another possible snake sighting when a long thing fell out of some vines on a tree. Quentin suggested that these may have been babies with a big mother. Oh.

I used the Off Dry insect repellent and so far, I have not seen any bites, nor does any skin seem irritated by a poison, even thought the weedeater was whacking my legs pretty good with debris. We shall see. I will say it goes on dry and you don’t feel like a greased pig the way we did back when I was little and   6-12 was the goo they spread on me.

I did get a scare when I looked down and saw a part of a black tube in the overgrowth; fortunately I was almost done in that area and made myself man up and go back in for a couple of minutes. Then I thought, “Oh, that’s good enough.”  I don’t “man up” too well.

Between Fairborn and the nursing home, not to mention Lagrange, I have not been spending much time with the Kendallville yard. Driving in after dark made it hard to see and the garage is in the back . . . so it went from bad to really bad.  I have pruned, I have mowed, I have edged and trimmed and used weed poison and I have started to thatch. Oh, yeah, grass seed went down, not because it was wise to do so, but because it made me feel psychologically better.  I swept the long driveway. Jeez. I’m just so perfect! Maybe I shouldn’t go that far . . .

NOTE FROM ROSE: We’ll be smacking that smart mouth of hers, don’t worry.