In some weird atmospheric configuration it was nearly 70degrees today.
In my neighborhood. One big house(well the unfinished tiny house, too). A barn. A wellhouse. A shed or three. Just us ones. No neighbors really.
Son-of-a-wrek says “Hey, Ma I’m burning that trash barrel, lots of flies around it”
I handed him the BBQ lighter and told him get it done before the kids come here after school. And proceeded to my nap time.
Before this, I realize I have a itchy spot on my back where I can’t reach. As I’m slightly a hypochondriac, I’m worried. I decide to look online. Bad idea, for me. I have Ivy look. She laughed, nothing is there. I feel something. I had her take a picture. I accuse her of not trying. I had the Lil’wrekker take it. She says, “Ma it ain’t nothing”. Harumph. I know a itch when I feel it. They always turn to rashes, on me.
I fear shingles. I’ve had the vaccine. I don’t know,can you still get it, anyway? Aaaaacccckkk. I hate my phobias.
Somehow, I nap. Til I don’t. I heard a biggish boom. Not nuclear level. But Ivy jumped up. Chihuahuas yapped. Cats dove up to the top shelf of my book case. Bayliss just looked concerned.
Son-of-a-wrek, hollered, “I’m alright!”
Well, crap.
The burn barrel is just for paper stuffs and food scraps we don’t want the pets or varmints to get to. No cans. No oils. No bottles. I prefer no plastic. I admit some gets in.
It blew a can of coke to the moon. I bet the flies left too.
Someone, I won’t name names, cleaned her car out Sunday. Apparently she had a coke can she never opened and put it in the trash with other junk.
When my blood pressure goes down I’m gonna praise her for not drinking that soda. She resisted. Good girl.
My back has just started to itch again.
On the plus side I had a nice treat for my snack. 'Cept supper was not satisfying. I got no pudding time with the kids after.
Bad bad bad.
(Scratch)