We were sitting on BBPBBB (Bill’s Birch Point Beach Bank Bench aka The Commander’s Memorial Bench) last evening when a rainstorm rolled in. We decamped to the Lyme Lounge, which is currently situated in the moomincabin parking area. Make no mistake, this is not your average paved parking lot. Packed sand surface covered by a layer of pine needles (and lots of sticks and things) and huge red pine trees (mostly) surrounding it.

The GG went out chainsawing again today. I don’t think he expected he would be chainsawing this time. I think he thought he was going to a meeting. Breakfast anyone? I don’t really know if there was breakfast. I know he took coffee with him in the F*cking Rabbits mug. (Read “The Bean Trees”.) Anyway, he was back in the early afternoon and he crashed hard for a while. Fortunately he took a shower first since he was napping in/on MY sleeping bag.

I cannot hold this in. The airwaves have buzzed all day with Trump FINALLY(?) realizing that Putin is NOT his good buddy. What was it? “He’s very nice all the time, but it turns out to be meaningless.” Right? Um, hey Trumpy, are you just figuring this out NOW? You keep calling yourself a wheeler-dealer but I don’t think you have a CLUE about people.

I am a WOMAN. I figgered out this kind of shitola at an early age. That college orchestra director who was sneakily touching my long blonde hair? Stay away from him, KW. A few years later he will be fired from his job because he made sexual advances to young women. For the record, I did NOT succumb to his advances. I greatly respected his work as our director but he totally creeped me out with that touch. I didn’t respond except to side-eye him big-time and he never approached me again in that way. He also knew better (somehow, I dunno how) not to demote me to last seat or whatever. I was first seat and I was good. And maybe a bit lucky somehow.

He was not my first rodeo (freshman year private piano teacher for one) but I don’t quite think I knew at that time that I had found my power but I know now that I was well on my way. When a cute little blonde clarinet player (very good player) complained about him in our women’s concert changing room, I gave her a friendly piece of my mind. “Tell him to go to hell,” except I was more polite than that. My daughters somehow learned all of this way earlier than I did and probably not from me.

Trump seems to be able to get his way with whatever women he wants but I don’t think Putin is his friend.

Elon annoyed the hell out of me today too but we’ll go there some other day.

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