Because it really is personal…

#3: “Hey, #2, have you ever heard of a 5 Point Star?”

#2: “No, but if you’re talking about it, it’s probably painful.”

One of the delightful symptoms (that’s not the word I’m thinking of, but I’ve had 3 cups of coffee and a caffienated energy drink so my mind is moving faster than it ought to) of a hurricane or tropical storm is the aftermath. It is, without fail, the most gorgeous weather a person could ask for. The air is dry, the sky is clear, and the tempuratures wobble around between 70 and 80 degrees.

I mean, could is possibly be any prettier today? No? i didn’t think so. I think I’ll go put on some U2 and play “It’s a Beautiful Day” or maybe Tracy Silverman’s version of Vivaldi’s “Summer”.

The house is clean, pretty much. I guess what I ought to do is go outside and do some yardwork, but that’s all pretty much dealt with as well. Plus the lawnmower is on the fritz and even though #3 is in his apprenticeship doing small engine and lawnmower repair, I can’t seem to motivate him into fixing *our* lawnmower. I reckon other people’s mowers are sexier than ours. In fact, I am sure of it, as he works on John Deere and Kubota and ours is a lowly Bolen bought on sale from Lowes. I suppose if I offered him a tank of gas, but his truck has the Deluxe Ranch Fuel Package and it’s like, $80 for a fill up. Seriously silly, if you ask me, because it’s a leeeetle Beeeety truck with a leetle beeety engine (dubbed “The Maytag” by Grandad, because he said it would barely power a washing machine)

I always wondered why Grandad bought such a vehicle. Well, actually, I *know* why. He was phenomenally cheap, and absolutely refused to pay more than $9000 for a vehicle. He was, however, perfectly happy to drive Grandmother’s car, which she bought her a new one (she has her own source of income) every 50,000 miles. She never skimped, either. No, She either drove a dove grey Cadillac, or a steel blue Mercury Grand Marquise, or whatever caught her eye at the dealership that day.
Grandad, on the other hand, owned 3 trucks in his 93 year lifetime. His first was a 1930-ish Dodge (I think. I never actually saw it), then he had a 1951 Dodge Power wagon (actually a truck, not a wagon at all, I don’t know why it was called a wagon) that he brush painted light blue during an uncharacteristic fit of creativity. Then, in 1995, he sold it to a teenager for $500, causing Sweet Daddio no small degree of nausea, and purchased the teal green GMC Sonoma that became mine when he died. I sold it to #3, who dubbed it “The Green Bean” and promptly put an amplifier and a 10 inch woofer in it. Then he realized he needed a radio/cd player, and had to drive around without one until payday.

Ok, so you’re wondering why I *sold* it to #3, instead of giving it to him, because it was given to me. I did it because if I just gave it to him, scott free, he’ d not appreciate it. We did that once, with the Exploder, and he essentially trashed it. He has taken very good care of The Green Bean, since his name is on the title and all. I sold it to him for half the Kelly Blue Book value of it, and used the money for something the whole family (including him) could enjoy.

Back to the weather. The cat brought in a dead bird, which I didn’t notice because it was behind a door, until this morning when I smelled something funky in the entry (or, should I say, the foy-YAY) and upon further investigation, found said dead bird peacefully rotting behind the door in the corner. Well. So much for ham n eggs for breakfast. Rootie’ Diet Plan: dead animals in the floor. Works every time.

That had nothing to do with the weather. This does, tho. When it’s like this I want very badly to take my car, top down, and go on a Bulloch County Photo Safari. SD has to work all day, Usually when we do this he drives and I photograph. I may venture out on my own, or maybe with #3 because he knows the county better than I do. He probably wouldn’t want to, tho…