Under overcast skies and windless 57F temps, Pheebs and I headed straightaway out to our country road walking spot this morning. Both cornfields on either side of the road are now harvested and we scored another half dozen corn cobs. Farther up the road I managed to shovel up a small amount of spilled corn. About five parts corn and three parts gravel. After wandering a few more country roads, we were back home shortly after 10 a.m. Kelly had scooted off to Exeter for a dental appointment.
|IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I LAST HAD A CUTESY COW PICTURE|
|I'M STILL TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THIS LARGE RURAL BUILDING PROJECT IS ALL ABOUT|
|THIS FARMER HAS GROWN HIMSELF QUITE A CROP OF SEAGULLS|
|EACH TIME NOW THAT i HAVE TO SCRUNCH MYSELF DOWN INTO THIS AREA BELOW OUR FRONT DECK TO TURN THE WATER EITHER ON OR OFF, IT IS GETTING HARDER FOR ME TO DO|
|TOP RIGHT OF CENTER IS A ROUND RED VALVE AND THAT IS WHAT I TURN TO EITHER TURN THE OUTSIDE WATER EITHER ON OR OFF|
|THAT'S QUITE THE CRYSTAL WHITE PEARL PIECE OF ARTWORK PERMANTELY ON MY SHOE NOW|
|THE PAINT TUBE SITTING IN ITS WHITE PLASTIC HOLDER|
|ALTHOUGH MOST OF THE PAINT IS WIPED UP IT'S A GOOD THING WE HAD A PLASTIC RUNNER UNDER THE CHAIR TO PROTECT THE RUG|
GROANER'S CORNER:(( The king of a small African nation had an elegant golden throne in his large grass hut. When an old friend came to visit from another nation, he was worried that the man would discover he was a king and treat him differently. He searched frantically for a place to hide the throne, but to no avail. Finally, he decided to have it wedged up in the ceiling of his hut. When his friend arrived, he went to the huts opening to greet him. Just then the ceiling started to give way, and the golden throne fell on the king, killing him. The moral of the story is this: People who live in grass houses should not stow thrones.