What should a blogger post when he's in a foul mood and doesn't feel like writing?
Boring photos that nobody wants to see.
Three sunny, hot days in a row! That's an incredibly rare event in Tennessee. I took advantage of the great weather - -staggering around the steep inclines of my Hillbilly Estate, valiantly battling acres of weeds that are nearly as tall as myself (I'm 6' 1"). I sprayed and trampled, cut and slaughtered, and was making fair progress (despite my screamingly bad back and the fact that I'm 150 yrs. old).
yesterday afternoon, the Evil Gods of the Backwoods Mountain saw my progress and decided to nip it in the bud.
I heard the unnerving sound of distant thunder, and felt the humidity intensify. I helplessly watched as dark clouds rolled in .....and could do nothing to roll them back.....
It began to rain, the rain turned into a deluge, the deluge became a torrential downpour - with thunder so deafening that my cats scrambled for cover and I began to regret my sins. It poured all afternoon, with Biblical fury.
All the weeds that I killed seemed to be miraculously resurrected and new ones sprouted alongside them with alarming vigor. I could hear the weeds growing all night, while they laughed with vindictive delight.
In the feeble light of dawn I saw a tremendous crop of new weeds - bigger, stronger, and greener than the ones I had demolished. My three days of work were completely eradicated. I would now need a tractor to get through them.
Well, shit. I give up. I surrender to the Gods of Nature (and the Goddesses, if you want to be politically correct).
Jon, for someone who wasn't in the mood to write, you're doing a helluva good job.
So where are the photos?
I thought you'd never ask.
There are many wildflowers amongst the weeds (I used "amongst" just to irritate Spell Check)
I didn't take any photos of the weeds because I didn't want to depress you.
The sunlight was dappling the leaves on the morning before the storm
Scratch, my 10 yr old feline, relaxing yesterday afternoon - trying to ignore the 94 degree heat (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in Guam)
This is how Scratch looks on a good day
Scruffy, taking a rare break from being feisty and getting into trouble.
Bosco, who is lazy, obedient, and dislikes trouble of any kind.
Bosco is related to Scruffy - they had the same father but different mothers.
Scruffy and Bosco are two years old.
Why so many cat photos, Jon?
Because I don't have any children or grandchildren to bore you with. Thank God.
I saved the best for last: photos of me naked.
(I just said that to see if you're still awake)
These are photos of the sunset last evening, after the storm. Taken from the front porch.