WITH A HEARTFELT LITTLE HAT PRAYER, I HIT THE SWITCH

 IT WAS A QUIET SUNDAY AFTERNOON AROUND THE OLD FRONT YARD FROG POND

I did make it out Saturday evening, and it turned out to be a fine summer's night.  From my spot atop a hill on Tower Line Road, as darkness fell, I was able to see in the far distance three separate fireworks displays.  One to the east, north of Clinton, and two in the direction of Bayfield to the southwest.  The two near Bayfield were very distant and faint, but they were there.  And, in the sky above, steadily on the rise glowed the big and bright nearly full Moon in all its forever mystery and mysticism.  It was a nice way to wrap up an otherwise long and tiring, unproductive day.  And, speaking of full Moons, don't be fooled by the term Strawberry Moon into thinking it is going to be the color of a strawberry.  I think some folks sometimes get fooled by all the color names they have for different Moons.  Just know that the Moon is the same color all the time, regardless of the month or what colorful name has been hung on it.  There is no blue moon, blood moon, pink, purple, red strawberry moon, or fleshy pink colored Moon just because some loony-toon pulls his pants down and moons the neighbors.

SATURDAY NIGHTS TWILIGHT ON A NEWLY MOWN HAY FIELD

 SATURDAY NIGHT'S ALMOST FULL MOON

Today was one of the first mornings I think that it felt warm enough on my walk to be wearing a short-sleeve shirt without a jacket or having to put on a long-sleeve shirt.  Hey, and it's even summer already.

 A SUNDAY MORNING iPHONE PIC OF PURPLE VETCH ALONGSIDE MY WALKING ROAD

It was a Sunday on February 8th of 2015, while boondocked in the Mojave Desert, Kelly and I, on a day trip, walked into an old, beautifully restored train station, pretty much out in the middle of nowhere.  The little whistlestop was known as the Kelso Depot, and it was in southern California.  Inside that train station remained the popular and well-known, in its day, by many travelers, the beautiful horseshoe lunch counter.  It was as if weary travelers, having just finished breakfast, had just left their seats to step out onto the train platform to welcome the incoming westward-bound train on its way to Los Angeles and California's Pacific Coast.  It was in this train station that I noticed a small room just off the lunchroom lobby.  It appeared to be a gift shop.  Now, I'm not much for browsing around gift shops, (even at Cracklbarrel) but I had a feeling there just might be something in that room waiting to meet me.  And, so there was.  I saw a rack of hats in the corner, and being in the market for a new hat, I walked right over to the hat rack for a look-see.  To this day, I couldn't tell you what else was in that gift shop, but there on the rack hung just what I was looking for.  It was called, a 'Breezer' hat.  Now, I have a slightly large head, so any hats I wear always have to be an XL, (extra large) and most hat racks or shelves usually have only small, medium, and large.  It was with an excited nervousness mixed with my usual pessimism that I saw a hat slightly larger towards the bottom of the rack and slowly lifted it up to peer at the label.  And, there it was......XL.  But, would it fit!!  I carefully put the hat on......and it fit perfectly.  And that was the beginning of a long and enduring friendship between a man and his hat.  And, I still wear that very same hat most every day to this very day.  Here is my post from that day long ago in Kelso, California, when my hat and I met for the very first time. Oh, And A New Hat  And, the reason for writing about my hat today is that yesterday, after not being washed since Kelly last washed the hat in her Mother's dishwasher in Spencerport, New York, half a dozen years ago, my hat was due for a darn good cleaning.  Of course, I don't have a dishwasher, but I do have a clothes washer, so you can imagine my great trepidation yesterday, when with a light load of other laundry, I carefully placed my prized hat into the washing machine and, with a heartfelt little hat prayer, I hit the switch.  I couldn't bear to listen to all the noisy agitations, swirlalations, or the flow of water under punishing pressure, plus the centrifugal force necessary to spin the bajeebers right out of my favorite hat.  Oh my, what have I done, I thought, as I stepped out of the house and focused my mind on something else.  Later, when the nashing of water and air was done, I carefully lifted the washer lid and daintily extracted my crumpled hat.  Oh my, what a forlorn and soggy-looking twisted mess it was, but at least it had held together and was not in a state of extreme tatters.  I carefully straightened it out and stretched it over an overturned salad bowl.  I then placed it on a table on the back deck, where the sun could gently dry it without being further mashed up in a rotating clothes dryer.  And, I am happy to report, that my hat is all clean and happy now and ready for another dozen or so years if I am.  Maybe it can go to a hat museum someday:))

Al's Music Box:: That Sunday, That Summer by Nat King Cole.

GROANER'S CORNER:(( A man takes his place in the theater, but his seat is too far from the stage. He whispers to the usher, "This is a mystery, and I have to watch a mystery close up. Get me a better seat, and I'll give you a handsome tip." The usher moves him into the first row, and the man hands the usher a quarter.  The usher looks at the quarter, leans over and whispers, "The wife did it."

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"Honey," said this husband to his wife, "I invited a friend home for supper." "What? Are you crazy? The house is a mess, I didn't go shopping, all the dishes are dirty, and I don't feel like cooking a fancy meal!" "I know all that."
"Then, why did you invite a friend for supper?"
"Because the poor guy is thinking about getting married."

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A doctor examining a woman who had been rushed to the Emergency Room, took the husband aside, and said, "I don't like the looks of your wife at all.” "Me neither doc," said the husband. "But she's a great cook and really good with the kids."

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It's paralyzing being a germaphobe; lots of places are really paralyzing to me. Laundromats have these baskets on wheels -- some guy will come in with a big bag of disgusting laundry, put it in the basket, and move it into the washer. And I'm supposed to take my clean laundry out of the dryer, put it in that exact same basket. I don't mind something having a dual purpose, but it's like, 'What's that big green box over there?' 'Oh that's a dumpster, and we also use that to store soup.'

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Al's Art Gallery

LEADING THE WAY TO WHEREVER IT IS MY MIND MIGHT TAKE ME

 I HAD HELP WRITING MY BLOG TODAY

Finally, a touch of real warmth in the morning air as a gentle southerly breeze accompanied me on my walk under sunny blue skies and an overhead steady parade of big white puffy summer clouds.  

 OXEYE DAISIES ALONG THE WAY THIS MORNING

My utility trailer needed a good dumping, so off came Subie's bicycle carrier and on went my standard trailer hitch.  To de dump, to de dump, I did go, driving dare fast and coming home slow.  After parking the trailer, I headed into Bayfield, took a few pics, gassed up the car, mailed a birthday card, picked up a Key Lime pie for our good neighbor Monica, and snagged Monica's mail on my way back into the Park.  And, just that little bit about knocked me out for the rest of the afternoon.  Of course, not getting to sleep until after 2 a.m. was probably a big factor into my low energy day as well.

 IT WAS THE COLORS OF LAKE HURON'S WATER TODAY THAT CAUGHT MY EYE

SAW THIS NICE LOOKING CAR ON BAYFIELD'S MAIN STREET THIS AFTERNOON

In my Friday night post, I made a wrong assumption about something.  I had several photos of a couple large trucks pouring concrete into what I thought was a foundation pad for another new house coming into the Park.  I was wrong.  That concrete was being poured for a driveway and a walkway.  When I drove down to that spot this morning to see have a closer look at the pour, I saw it wasn't a pad afterall.  I hope nobody loses any sleep over my wrong assumption:))

 IT WAS A DRIVEWAY AND WALKWAY. THEY POURING YESTERDAY

The day's weather is holding together really well, so this evening, I think I'll head out for a walk, grab a Horton's coffee to go in Clinton, and head myself out into the countryside with a nearly full Moon brightening my path and leading the way to wherever it is my mind might take me:))  

 TYPING AWAY ON MY LAPTOP COMPUTER OUTSIDE TODAY, I HEARD A LITTLE WHISPER IN MY EAR

THIS LITTLE FELLOW JUST STUFFED A WHOLE PEANUT INTO HIS CHEEK POUCH

Al's Music Box:: Somewhere Down The Crazy River by Robbie Robertson.  A favorite and memorable song of mine from the late 80's.

GROANER'S CORNER:(( There was a woman who was pregnant with twins, and shortly before they were due, she had an accident and went into a coma. Her husband was away on business and unable to be reached. While in the coma, she gave birth to her twins, and the only person around to name her children was her brother. When the mother came out of her coma to find she had given birth and that her brother had named the twins, she became very worried, because he wasn't a very bright guy. She was sure he had named them something absurd or stupid. When she saw her brother, she asked him about the twins. He said, "The first one was a girl." The mother: "What did you name her?!?" Brother: "Denise!"The Mom: "Oh, wow, that's not bad! What about the  second one?" Brother: "The second one was a boy." The Mom: "Oh, and what did you name him?" Brother: "Denephew."

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- Here's an example of something you never say at a job interview: Can I have my resume back? Its my only copy.

- “I think every morning that I'm going to make pancakes, but I keep waffling.”

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- What bothers you?
- I have a bad memory.
- Ok. What else?
- I have a very bad memory.
- What else?!
- And... I have a really bad memory.
- Yes, I understand that you have a bad memory! What else??
- And I have hearing problems.
- What else?
- What did you say?
- What else?!
- Say it again?
- What else?!
- Ah-ah! And I have a bad memory!!

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This 60 year old woman was walking along 5th Avenue when she heard a voice from above: "You will live to be 100." She looked around and didn't see anyone. Again she heard: "You will live to be 100." "Boy," she thought to herself, "that was the voice of God. I've got 40 more years to live!" So off she went to the plastic surgeon. She got everything fixed from head to toe.
When she left the plastic surgeon's office, she got hit by a bus, died, and went up to heaven. She said to God, "You told me I would live to be 100. I was supposed to have had 40 more years. So how come you let the bus kill me?" God said, "I didn't recognize you".

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Al's Art Gallery