Saturday, Houghton Lake, early morning: me and my poor old broken old bumbershoot somehow made it around the point to the second bridge and back. On the way back, the wind kicked up and I had to hold the poor old broken old bumbershoot over to the right to keep it from turning inside out. It kept me dry, more or less. Okay, less. Later on, I was walking again and I heard some guy say to his wife, “I saw her out here with an umbrella this morning.” Then he said it to me and all I could say was, “I’m an addict.” And I am. About power-walking, that is. I dunno what else to say.

Monday. I got up, checked the temperature, decided how many layers I needed (not many) and took off. No poor old broken old bumbershoot. Didn’t even *think* to check about the precipitation. Pretty soon it started to drizzle. I kept going. It became a light rain. I thought, “I know where this is going.” I bailed out and called the GG to get him to bring me my poor old broken old bumbershoot. I hate when I have to do that kind of thing. When I am doing my morning powerwalk, I am in my own space. I don’t *really* want anyone to know where I am. Just about the time he got there, it stopped raining. I needed it a little later though at WCC when it was *pouring* as I trekked from my parking space at the end of the row by the bench in front of the pond into the Gunder Myran building. Me, Sandy, and Ed were the only people with bumbershoots. I guess all the kids don’t melt.

And then there was this morning: it was raining a little bit when I got up. I got into the shower and when I turned off the water, it was still running. Or so I thought. Then I realized that there was a deluge going on outside. More water coming down than my poor old broken old bumbershoot could withstand. By the time I got to the point of actually going outside, it had slowed down somewhat. But the streets were rivers and schoolyard was one big slurry of mud and water. I almost could’ve kayaked through all that. I sometimes dream that I do stuff like that. Sometimes I even dream that I’m kayaking down the I75 SUV Speedway. On the concrete. Roight. Anyway, if I *had* been able to kayak through the Haisley schoolyard today, my feet would’ve probably been cleaner. I came home and washed the muck off my feet and legs and went over to WCC. It was sunny and warm by the time Kate and I took off to the coffee machine during our class break.

But I think I’ll grow some flippers and fins and gills. Maybe I can program my DNA to make them retract when I dont need them. And maybe they can be a nice sparkly green color with some purple around the edges, eh?

Grok Grok! A beeyootiful choice o’ colors if I do say so myself! Grok grok! I’m green with a bit o’ purple aroun’ th’ eyes myself. Grok grok.

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