Days of my Life #19

I took a walk with my friend Carla this morning. We waved to each other as we approached from opposite directions, both of us adorned with our homemade masks and sun hats. Today is going to be in the 90’s but it was a pleasant 70 when we took off toward the creek just down the street and up the hill.

There we meandered along a well-worn meandering path as we listened to the water trickle, the occasional buzz of insects and took pix of the light falling on a zillion shades of green. I had hoped we might see wildlife because we’ve got all sorts like coyotes, raccoons and foxes who venture out at night to munch on unsuspecting prey, some being household cats and teensy dogs. Alas no wildlife unless you consider the giant pit bull being fostered and walked by a kind soul passing by. His name was Darwin, the dog not the human, but we all agreed a more appropriate moniker might’ve been “Flower” or “Daisy” or now that I think of it, “Muffin”.

People are fostering loads of homeless animals right now. I only wonder what will happen with the fosters after we are allowed to go back to work. And speaking of homeless…how can people without shelter, do so in place? What place? UHow many out there have considered adopting an unhoused person…or anyone at risk of losing their abode?

We talked at length about all sorts of stuff as we are oft to do, trying desperately to avoid the unpleasant subject of politics and the “not a doctor douche-weasel” who rarely sits in the oval office. But try as we might the subject turned to his suggestion of injecting Lysol or Clorox to cure Coronavirus which caused us to both simultaneously rant on the absurdity also known in some circles as “Not my President.” One wonders if he might wish to volunteer and be the first test subject? Is that wrong to imagine? It would seem only fitting. I can see the news…millions of zoom gatherings with participants cheering as it is announced that the virus known to his lemmings as “White House Don” has succumbed to his own “medicine”.

We deftly changed the subject again, this time to our Social Security from which the Repulslicans want to steal. It was then I came up with the perfect solution:

All those close to or in retirement should don their masks, gloves, a Handy bottle of sanitizer in a bag, along with a roll of tp, and a spoon, go to their local grocery, purchase a couple cans of beans or dairy products (for those lactose intolerant), head over to the nearest government office (Republican senators/congressperson’s, though the white house will do nicely) eat the contents of digestive distress, thus defecate at entrances and exits, then deposit in the nearest mailbox the used tp in plastic lined envelopes, stamped and addressed to said “representatives.” Perhaps this might doubly get our messages across that we’ve had enough of their shite, plus they can see how it feels to clean up the mess they are making of our former functioning government. They also might think better of robbing us of dollars we earned.

After some devious chuckling We changed the subject to diy raised bed gardens.

All in all it was a healthy morning of walking in nature, shooting the shit, brainstorming about using the shit, and composting shit to grow a garden.

And speaking of gardens…Today I Think I’ll plant some beans…ya never know when they might come in handy.

Tune in.