😀 What an insane afternoon!
We’re back from the late-day perambulation of the park. EGAD, but it’s cold out there! Overcast, windy, and…well.. more than “crisp.” Colder than a by-gawd, as my father would have said.
Ruby has patrolled the neighborhood streets and inspected the park. Clouds have blown up during the time we wandered about: it’s dark gray out there now.
Wunderground predicts an 84% chance of rain…I’d say that’s a conservative estimate. Supposedly 52 degrees out in the backyard just now…but again: I’d say, “conservative estimate.”
We’ve managed to repair to the Funny Farm, and Ruby has taken up her position at the foot of the bed.
…. uhhh….
Well, no: She’s taken up her position at the chow bowl, having rousted the human and demanded a pile of Dawg Food.
😀
{sigh}. I hope the stuff races through her forthwith, so we can get her out into the backyard before it starts to rain. Which will happen…soon, I imagine.
Well…what if?
What if we lived in Fountain Hills, a suburban locale I covet?
It would be colder there than it is here. And no doubt windier.
What if we still lived downtown, in the antique and very classy central-city neighborhoods?
‘Twould be no warmer there than it is here, but a WHOLE lot noisier. We’re comin’ on to rush hour, so would be serenaded with traffic noise and ambulance sirens and fire-engine sirens and…gaaaaaaahhhh!
On the other hand, we’d be closer to M’hijito’s house, so it would be easier for us to pester him. 😀 😀 😀
How’s about Sun City, the garden spot where my parents took up residence for their retirement?
Well…they STILL hate “minorities” out there, even after all these years. A friend of mine — a fella of the dusky persuasion — bought a place in Sun City. He was hounded out in less than six months.
Though I myself am of the paler persuasion, you couldn’t pay me to move out there. What awful people!
So…here we are, Ruby the Corgi and I, loafing on a bed in lovely North Central Phoenix. Ruby has enchanted a number of the locals, having strolled around the park and cutied them into submission. The skies have clabbered up and turned threateningly gray. Ruby, unconcerned, snoozes. I scribble.
What can we say? Other than arf!