Clouds

Forgive me. I am captivated by clouds.

Recession? What recession?

Construction is speeding along on an orthpedics center on the "backside" of Prescott Valley.

Meantime, down at Glassford Hill Road and Lakeshore Drive, another project is underway. This, I am told, will be a Maverick service station and store.

(Sorry for the slanted photo . . I took it out the side window as I was driving by.)

In addition, but not pictured, a new doctors' office is being constructed in the growing medical center of Prescott Valley.

And another dollar store is about to break ground on the east side of P.V.

As my contact (a high-ranking city government official) said, "not bad for a recession economy."

Not bad, indeed.

Lily and Jet

The BRD and her beau spent a couple of R&R days in Scottsdale. SWMBO spent the two days at the BRD's house so her cats wouldn't get lonely. She snapped a few photos and here are a couple of my favorites. Jet (obviously) is the black boy cat. Lily, still showing a bare spot where she had her neutering (or is it spaying) surgery is carefully watching the camera.

Magpie Tales 3

This was a tough one. I couldn’t summon the muse at all, no matter how many times I looked at that damned picture of a kilo weight. Coming from a certain generation, I kept getting hung up on that word "kilo".

Back in the day . . . way back in the day . . . I have to confess to a momentary fascination with the effects of marijuana. It only lasted for a short time. A couple of days. Or was that weeks. Or months. Or years. I sort of forget. But it is far in the past now. (That makes me think of the scene in the movie "It’s Complicated" where Meryl Streep and Steve Martin are sharing a joint and one or the other of them says (approximately) "This sure is different from what we smoked 30 years ago!")

Anyway I had a friend . . . back in the day . . . who smoked way more than I did. One time he went to Hawaii and while there acquired a sizeable amount of what was known as Maui Wowie, much of which he brought back to the mainland in his wife’s suitcase. She didn’t know it was there until they got home and boy was she pissed at him.

He decided to share his wealth with me and mailed a package of it to me. It arrived at my home when no one was there, with his return address on the outside of the package. AND WITH POSTAGE DUE!!!

Now there’s a sidebar to this. Our yard at the time had a large number of snails. I had told him we were going to gather them up, purge them by feeding them cornmeal and then cook them up for an escargot feast. Snails . . . or garden slugs, as he insisted on calling them . . . were not his cup of tea. But when he was in Hawaii, he toured a botanical garden and took an extreme close-up photo of the biggest snail I’ve ever seen. In the picture which topped off his "gift", it looked about the size of an old Buick.

Well, the good news is the postman didn’t open the package, we paid the postage due, we didn't "process" the snails and the rest is lost to history.

Until Willow’s photo prompt for Magpie Tales 3. And the only thing I could think of was this little limerick.

The mailman while making his rounds,
Brought a package that brings joyful sounds,
A box of fresh weed
All foil-wrapped, indeed,
A kilo that weighs two-plus pounds.

And if that's not enough, you can join in and/or read much more from more talented writers at Magpie Tales 3

A rant

O.K. It's time for a rant. Those of you who don't want to read this should delete it now.

Our sainted Arizona legislature, overcome by Republicans, has decided rather than try to solve its budget crisis that the most important thing to do is to object to President Barack Obama's right to serve. To wit, that he is not a citizen of the United States. He has never produced a birth certificate that confirms that he was born in Hawaii (a state) but that his birthplace was in Kenya. There is a photo circulating on the Internet showing a sign that says "Welcome to Kenya, birthplace of President Barack Obama." Of course, it has been shown to have been Photoshopped and is totally false. But the "birthers" still proclaim it.

Now, a crazy woman from a place known as Skull Valley, in Arizona, has introduced a bill in the Arizona legislature to insist that future candidates for the presidency proclaim their birth as U.S. citizens.

It is obvious hatred.

What is painful is that some 40 members of the legislature (Republicans all) have signed onto this crazed piece of legislation.

What is wrong with them? Are they crazy? Or are they just so biased against a popularly elected president of the United States that their sensibilities have become enraged and biased?

Lucy Mason, Andy Tobin and their co-horts in the legislature should be ashamed of themselves.

And most of all . . . Judy Burges, who sponsored this abominable legislation.

If you, as responsible voters, have any common sense at all, you will vote against all of these people in the future.

An Elvis breakfast

Elvis Presley was known for some pretty unhealthy eating habits, like his deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches. But I adapted that for a tasty breakfast snack this morning. First I toasted an English muffin, then spread it with creamy peanut butter and topped that with a sliced banana. Very good! I'd show you a picture but I ate it before I thought of the camera.

Olympics Fever

I was about to turn out my light and go to sleep when SWMBO called from the other room: "Did you see that?"

I obediently padded down the hall and said "What?"

She said a woman from a two-woman bobsled team had just been thrown out of her sled and skidded down the track on her backside.

I asked if the sled had run over her and SWMBO responded "No, she was behind it."

I unfeelingly said "I don't really have any use for the Olympics, winter or summer."

SWMBO responded sharply "Oh, yes, you'll watch 9 months of baseball or football games on television."

. . . . .

After thinking that over, I returned to the fray and said, smartly, "Baseball is the national pastime and I'd certainly rather spend my time with it than to watch a bunch of silly girls fall out of sleds or a bunch of girly-guys use brooms to sweep the ice in front of what they call a stone!"

. . . . .

I know.

I'm going to pay for that.