Michelle up at dark-thirty this
day, and every day, to slip on her pretty pink cowgirl boots and saddle “Finney”
for a ride before the Florida furnace fires up and fries ‘em both. Me, up soon after, four cups of stout Rio, then
down into the history mine where I dig lots of rocks and, occasionally, even a
little gold for this book.
Last night we three sat together
in our swing on the lanai (screened-in porch) while a ferocious thunderstorm
swept the island. Sheets of rain,
accompanied by thunder so loud and bolts so bright that one might have imagined
a huge naval battle was occurring just a mile off our shore. Meanwhile, Disney the Dog was panting and
shivering wildly; poor ugly beast has feared thunder all her born dog days and
the older she gets the more terrified she seems. Michelle cuddled her critter and had also slipped
on the doggie “thunder coat” (like a thick blanket held on by Velcro). The good news: All that shaking and shivering
used lots of energy and “Diz” Goodrich slept the sleep last night of a worn out
nervous little dog.
In all, the evening was a
beautiful and much-welcomed natural break from the computers we both seem to
have growing from our hips of late.
______________________________________
Homeless Honeymoon—Seems two twenty-somethings up in Sarasota, one Brittany
Smith and one Bob Davis, just could not resist all that animal magnetism each
was throwing out there the other evening.
It was sex at first sight. One
look and the two homeless-sapiens just decided to get down and hook up. Since the two had no digs, no need to ask, “Your
place or mine?”—the couple just decided then and there on someone’s front yard to
take ‘em off and get it on. And take ‘em
off and get it on they did.
Meanwhile across the street, Fred
and Ethel Mertz, self-chosen officials of the local Neighborhood Lust Watch,
were getting more and more scandalized the more and more they watched. Ethel grabbed the phone to dial Sarasota Lust
Control but before she could, Fred decided that they needed more evidence. And so, peering from their window, Fred and
Ethel watched and watched . . . and watched . . . and . . . . watched . . . . .
and . . . . . . watched, and just to make extra sure certain that the amorous
couple over there whacking on the lawn was doing what the Mertzes thought they
were doing, Fred and Ethel watched some more.
Finally, despite Fred’s insistence that they collect even more evidence,
Ethel pegged 911. The local lust patrol
was on the scene in ten seconds flat.
Alas, it proved a costly tryst for
our Romeo and Juliet—not only were Bob and Brit caught with all that
evidence hanging out there, but the bond for First Degree Animal Magnetism in
public was set at $7,500 each.
No further comment. . . .
