STURM UND DRANG

The rumbling of thunder yesterday evening brought me out to view the sky.

It looked like some Labor Day weekend barbecues were about to be ruined.

The ominous clouds moved around the sky as we sat and watched but that distant rainfall stayed distant.

My friend Phil was out touring the countryside (and a stop for pork sliders and beer!) but returned home to Chino Valley to find a neighborhood covered in hail stones.

He said Sedona also got hail.

But here in the friendly confines of Prescott Valley the precipitation just hopped past  and no hail fell to bug us.

SPICY TOM

Do you know what that is?

I'll give you a hint.

The picture was taken on our rear patio yesterday evening as the sun was heading over the yardarm, so to speak.

Okay, I'll tell you.

The red orb was the tiniest but perfect little cherry tomato from our vine.

I'd say about half an inch in diameter.

Judy plucked it and handed it to me and I . . . .

. . . . dropped it into my glass of vodka and soda.

SWMBO has taught me to never eat fruit or vegetables without washing them first but after 20 minutes or so of floating in that concoction I figured it was clean and popped it into my mouth.

Wow!

I've always heard of how much better a freshly grown tomato is from the kind you buy in the grocery store but had never really noticed it myself.

But this little rascal exploded with wonderful spicy tomato flavor in my mouth.

I may have just invented a new version of the "martini with three olives".

SATURDAY SATORI

The BRD sent a couple of pictures for, as she said, "your Saturday".

Um, thanks, daughter.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Oh joy.

Oh thoughts of reckless abandon.

Oh moments of fickle fun.

It's FRIDAY!

And, of course, that brings us to the Friday Funnies!

So turn on your Giggle Control Module.

All right, then, I think you Gentle Readers have been entertained.

Now it's time for you to zip into a zany weekend, singing zealously from atop a ziggurat, sizzling a steak on the grill and ending your meal with zabaglione and a general zombification before catching some z's.

But always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

SPEAKING OF GAYLE . . .

. . . oh, I wasn't?

Well I should, more often.

The BRD came over to help her mother out with a little but strenuous project and afterwards the three of us went to lunch.

It was fun.

The lunch, that is.

HOT ENOUGH FOR YA?

Chill, baby.

R.I.P.

John McCain

August 29, 1936 - August 25, 2018

A Public Servant