North Country Trail “widow”

So obviously he is home again. Along with my Cocktail Clock and this sign. I’m not really sure where the sign came from. It is right outside my front door but ironically, a mini-logging operation was going on just down the street. Just in case I didn’t notice it (I did), “Erick” (the mini-logging person) accosted me in the Landfill Driveway and handed me a door-hanger thingy offering his services. Apparently, he had approached The Pensioner TWICE before I got home.

Yes, we have a huge tree right outside our front door. No, we do not want to cut it down. Do you do driveways? We could use some work there.

Ever since we have lived in this house, Tree Guys have been stopping by asking if we wanted to hire them to cut it down. No, no, no, no, and no.

It has always looked like an accident waiting to happen and actually, in May 2000, the [probably dead] top third of it fell on our house. It was the middle of the night and a thunderstorm rolled through. The GG was all excited about that but I didn’t like the sound of the wind. After a couple of HUGE peals of thunder, the wind went WAAAAAAY up and there was a HUUUUUUGE peal of thunder! Except it wasn’t thunder, it was top third of the tree falling on our house.

No one (including our guinea pig and rat) was injured in the slightest but I could not go back to sleep so I took a shower and then got on the computer and did some YAG work. The GG dozed off but was up at 6 AM calling around for a tree service to remove the debris from the roof and the POC, which [unfortunately] the insurance company did not total because I was more than ready for a new vee-hickle at that point, even though it was only four years old.

Life went on and we figgered the rest of the tree was probably not going to fall after that loverly event. A year or so ago, The Pensioner called some tree experts who came out and assessed the health of the remaining parts of the tree. They cut off some more dead parts and the rest of the tree remains to this day. Another tree fell on our house a number of years later but that’d be a story for another day.

Oh man, I do not want to do polly-ticks on here but some stuff is just too weird. So, Melania visited some of the separated migrant children wearing a jacket saying, “I don’t care, do U?”. I am not a Melania-hater. I don’t know what she’s all about but I suspect she never in a million years expected to hold the position of US first lady and I don’t think she has any more of a clue about how to handle her “job” than the Orange Baboon does about his. I actually think she might truly care about the migrant children. And “fashion” is “fashion” aka “it’s just a jacket”. But. But. But. I don’t even have words. I mean, I wear some pretty weird stuff but I am not a public figure. Nevertheless, I do think about where I’m going and who I’m going to see there and mostly I like to dress “invisibly”, meaning that people are hopefully not distracted by my clothing so they can listen to my words. One day last week, I was halfway to work and realized I was sleeveless! I hadn’t totally changed from walking attire to bizcaz. Oh, horrors! What do I do? Do I go home and change? I talked myself down off that ledge. It was okay, we aren’t bizcaz at work any more and other people are often sleeveless. But still I THOUGHT about where I was going and what I was wearing and whether or not it was appropriate. So I’m wondering what Melania was thinking… And/or why none of her “handlers” pointed out the cognitive dissonance between the purpose of her trip and the words on her jacket.

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