Crunchy Thoughts

I don’t know if I’ve really mentioned it much — y’all know it’s been hectic here for a while — but Ken and Lisa have had a wedding sneaking up on them, and it finally took place yesterday. It was a lovely affair, and Lisa even said, “I do.”

I couldn’t help but bring my camera and take pictures, so I’ve already got them on my Flickr account. They’re gonna have much better pictures than these, though, because they had no less than four photographers snapping their every move. That was amusing in and of itself.

Anyway, they’re finally married — they’ve been together for quite a while — so they can continue with their playful bickering. Now they just get to wear wedding bands while doing it.

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Everything else around here seems to be finally settling down. We still aren’t really unpacked yet, what with the slew of birthdays, holidays, and other festivities going on . . . that won’t quit until August. I feel like I need a vacation but, alas!, no vacation days ’till Christmas. I still have hopes for a holiday anniversary London trip.

Summer has definitely arrived with a bang around here, so now I begin my long annual watch for the first blessed cold front around late September. This is always the longest four months of the year.

Man, I was hoping to have a longish entry but there’s really not much else going on worth noting besides the stuff I’ve already mentioned. Wait, there is the thing with the Bubbettisms, but that will be it’s own post. I’ll get to that later.

Les enjoying his baby

Les got a new toy!

To the white Ford gas-guzzler who honked at us on Rocky Ridge:

What was your problem? Are you unfamiliar with people in front of you slowing down and stopping of the traffic is backed up? Are you unaware that Pump House Road and Shades Crest filter out onto Rocky Ridge at that intersection?

See, if someone in front of me stops, I stop as well. It’s the SAFE way to be. The person in front of us stopped to turn left onto Pump House Road. They stop; we stop. IT’S THAT SIMPLE.

There was certainly no need for you to get all in a huff and lay on your horn. God forbid you be 30 seconds late to your very important Country Club affair. Did you have too much coffee today? Or, worse still; not enough?

After that little show we opted to go the bonifide speed limit so you would simmer down a bit. I think 50 mph was a little too rich for your temper at the moment. If you hadn’t been such a blowhard, we would not have made a point of it.

So, 40 mph it was, and you were seething. Despite the rain and the double-yellow line, I could see you had a hankering for some illegal passing. Of course, the rush hour traffic prevented that.

We come to our turn and, praise God, you went straight ahead. You hadn’t simmered down, though, had you? Nope, you had to get in one last honk, the final word, to let us know how much you didn’t appreciate our (legal) driving. Did you see my middle fingers? I showed them to you. I hope you liked them.

Look, we’re (mostly) civilized people here, so let’s get something straight. We all live in a large, car-riddled, metro area. We have a hell of a lot of traffic, due in part to our government’s fixation on a theme park and a mythical sports dome instead of a mass transit system. Therefore, people drive cars around here — lots of them.

Be careful, one may be braking near you.

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