Thanks, Obama.
In this spring of our discontent, who else should I blame for a first work-day of Spring 2016 that promises to look a lot like some of the days we had in January in terms of NOT admiring the grass on the lawn.
That is a picture from this time last year.
I had hoped to NOT ever need to dress like that so late in March ever again. And I don't have to if I move to Aruba. And, yes, I've given that some serious thought (okay, what passes for me as serious thought).
I am unhappy not because the red-red robins aren't bob-bob-bobbing along though I really don't like them as a bird since they always seem to be running from place to place; you have wings, so fly! (just not always to there), but I will whine without surcease when the heat and humidity that we have in these parts in July and August kicks in. It's what I do.
In the meantime, unless you brought some extra gloves, please pass a napkin. The vendors never give you enough when you order one of these and it always makes such a mess.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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