Busy as a buzzing bee

Today's post is brought to you by the music of Chely Wright, Lee Ann Womack's I Hope You Dance and Jo Dee Messina who sings my favorite song, My Give a Damn's Busted.

I'm listening to some cowgirl music this morning while the streets are filled with strolling Farmer's Market visits in shorts and T-shirts of every color of the rainbow and a few that don't occur in nature -- and I don't mean their hair color either. It's cool and the mountains out the window are green and beautifully fuzzy against a periwinkle blue sky. There's a big hole across the street containing a wooden platform, but the beep beep beep of the monster digging machines is gone and has been gone since they finished digging the basement of the planned house on Thursday. The landlady said she doesn't see the house finished and roosting there between the dog that lives on the leash in all weathers and the fancy old house where the family takes their big old stylish camper out every other weekend. And a lot has changed in the past couple weeks in my little neighborhood.

The tree hating orc wench's husband came back from Iraq but hadn't been seen, except for one appearance at 3:00 Thursday morning staggering from the inside of an SUV packed with hoarsely hooting he-men and tripping up the sidewalk into the darkened house. On the other side, the college age guys with the revolving door girlfriends are moving out because the house is on the market. That explains the two cleaning crews that ran screaming down the walk and out between the over grown bushes to stand cowering and shaking in the hot sunshine, staring back at the house with its blind eyes and gaping wound of a door.

We have had three days of rain this week and the rain lasted all day and most of the night on Wednesday. The heat has cooled to bearable ranges and the ground greedily sucked up the rain like a sun-crazed lunatic who just crossed the Gobi desert on hands and knees. Need to pray to the rain gods and see if they will grant us a further reprieve.

I received an early check and took it out for a trip to the grocery store and a little meander through Celebration for a silver chain for my Aztec amulet, some candles, a bit of incense, a few stones and a book. Of course I could have bought more, but decided to pace myself. It's easy to drop $50 in a heartbeat even with the small stuff. I did look over some pendulums for a friend who asked me about mine and scanned some possibilities for a birthday gift for Nello next door, but decided to keep a few dollars in my pocket for the essentials -- sandwiches, TP, and Celtic sea salt from Mountain Mama's and maybe a bit of food from the grocery store. (I didn't get as much work this pay period as I could because it just wasn't there. The docs need another ultimatum for them to get dictating, lazy sods.)

There's something about the rain lately. Beanie and her family were rained out on their camping vacation trip earlier this week, but she said she was glad because of the daddy longlegs infesting their camp site. I guess it would get pretty tiring having your family standing up inside your tent at the four corners to keep the roof pushed out so the rain doesn't bring the roof down to your sleeping bag while you sleep on a slowly leaking air mattress. Some people just can't take really rugged living.

My brother turned 45 to match the flour mixed in with what's left of his dishwater blond hair and celebrated his 22nd wedding anniversary. I guess it does pay to get married on your birthday so you can remember your anniversaries. The next day was Beanie's 20th wedding anniversary -- or maybe it was the 21st. I can't keep track any more. She should have been married on her 23rd birthday, too, so I could keep track by a little quick subtraction, but some people are so thoughtless.

In a few hours I will be with my weekend fella. A moonlight walk is planned tonight and tomorrow night before I give in and start working again and we'll dine together outside -- weather depending. However, he is just a transitional fella since I have someone in the wings who has moved forward onto center stage. After all, the problem with fellas like the one this weekend is that they aren't capable of sticking around for the long haul. You can't have a silver or gold anniversary with a long-haired German Shepard. Still, they're wonderful to have around and love to be petted, scratched and hugged, thus satisfying the need to touch, especially if you don't mind being knocked down by enthusiasm or licked in the face. There are worse things.

Time to go shower and get ready for a fun weekend. Disperse.