STORMY SKIES, NEANDERTHAL TABLE MANNERS, AND JAMMIES

STORMY LAKE HURON SKIES

We got off lucky today.  With a high cloud cover blocking out the earlier part of today's Sun our predicted hot air didn't turn too steamy.  Well not until mid afternoon anyway.  Clicking on our live radar weather site late this morning I saw maybe half a dozen storm cells racing across the lake right for us.  Grabbed my camera, hopped into the Jeep and raced over to Bayfield's Pioneer Park to watch the storm come ashore.  Never happened.  The storm veered slightly north and rumbled through Goderich instead.  With a few photos of an Arts class at Pioneer Park I came home again.

 

PAINT BRUSHES, EASELS, AND SKETCH PADS

MAYBE SHE'S READING A BOOK AND SKETCHING SOMETHING AT THE SAME TIME

Checking the live radar site again about 20 minutes after getting home I saw another storm front swinging around and heading right for us.  Climbed into the Jeep again and raced back to Pioneer Park atop the bluffs of Lake Huron.  Skies were scarily turbulent with banks of low ominous clouds bunched up and moving fast from north to south.  The main storm cell was moving from west to east.  I could hear thunder far to the north but I didn't see any lightning.  Despite showing promise as a great smasher on the radar screen the storm was a bust and no rain happened except for a short 10 second burst after I returned home again.  Skies slowly began to clear about mid afternoon and sunshine soon began peering between breaks in the clouds.  And that was it for another day.  I do apologize for posting yet ANOTHER repetitive weather report but the weather once again was about the only thing going on worth mentioning today.

ON MY SECOND TRIP TO PIONEER PARK SKIES HAD DARKENED AND CLOUDS HAD REALLY STORMED THEMSELVES UP

Have I mentioned before about my Neanderthal table manners.  It may not be a good idea for you to invite me to our house for dinner any time soon.  I may twiddle a couple fingers in my soup, use my thumb to push food onto my fork and bear down on the blunt side of same fork to power through most any piece of meat you put on my plate.  I'll probably make slurping noises sucking up spaghetti noodles and take on the appearance of a Walrus with long white spaghetti tusks dangling from it's nose.  I will pick up bacon strips with my fingers and repeatedly dunk my toast into the yellow yokes of my fried eggs often as not ending up with yellow drippings on my shirt.  Sometimes I am leaned so far forward I end up with ketchup on my forehead.  If I should rarely pick up a knife, switch hands and attempt to cut a tough steak I take on the appearance of a pathetic comedy act and go at it like a ham fisted Cyrano De Bergerac flailing away at a floundering Rhinoceros.  Now contrast my Neanderthal manners with that of someone I know who with knife and fork firmly attached to their expert hands goes at his plate of food like Edward Scissorhands trimming up the neighborhood shrubbery.  This chap even slices and dices his mashed potatoes and deftly wields his utensils with the skill of a master swordsman.  Nothing escapes this culinary aficionados two shiny metal utensils as I witness oodles of noodle wedges meticulously being shuffled around his plate to end up in their proper place before being expertly folded over and loaded on to his fork.  By the time this guy gets to this stage I'm already out in the kitchen wiping food off myself with my head in the refrigerator contemplating what I'm going to drip on myself for dessert.  Next day we order a pizza and I pick my piece up using both hands.  The Mannermeister at the other end of the table tackles his slice with fervor, moving expertly using knife and fork again to meticulously separate the black olives from the pepperonis then carefully cutting those pepperonis into their proper minute sizes and once again placing them at a precise location on his plate.  He then with the skill of a surgeon methodically cuts up his Pizza slice and quite properly forks each piece to oblivion.  Of course by this time I am already wiping the many coloured sauce encrusted pizza toppings off my pants and shirt with my sticky fingers or whoever happens to be sitting next to me if they are not looking.  No I'm not a pretty site at the supper table so it's not a good idea to invite me over to your house or out somewhere for lunch in a public area.  Not a good idea at all and if you don't want me to embarrass you I expressly suggest you exclude me from all your future dinner plans...……..:))))

CORNFIELDS AND STORMY SKIES

CORNS UP ABOUT FIVE FEET NOW

Well it's getting late so I gotta go get jumped into my jams.  In other words it's time to climb into my pj's.  Pajamas or jammies if you will.  Yes I am a jammie junkie.  Got 5 tattered and rather threadbare pairs of them, and I wear em all.  Well at least what's left of them.  So where is all this jammie talk leading anyway.  Well, I don't know.  I needed another paragraph tonight to separate the posts last photo so this is that paragraph.  And here we are...………...

GROANER'S CORNER:(( A man walks out of a bar and sees a bum panhandling on the corner. The bum says, "Mister, can you spare a dollar?" The man thinks a minute. Then he asks the bum, "If I give you a dollar, are you going to use it to buy liquor?" "No," says the bum. The man then asks, "If I give you a dollar, are you going to use it for gambling?" Again the bum says, "No." The man says to the bum, "Do you mind coming home with me so I can show my wife what happens to someone who doesn't drink or gamble?"
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To the person who stole my glasses I will find you, I have contacts.
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When a woman in my office became engaged, a colleague offered her some advice. "The first seven years are the hardest," she said.  "How long have you been married?" I asked.  "Seven years," she replied.
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