Random Thoughts - The Driving Around Town Edition

I was on my way to the pod-castle, only there was no one there to visit.

Lazy Sunday afternoons, triple digit temperatures making any outing an indoor experience, the heat enervating and heavy on my shoulders.... it all led me to G'ma's orange chair, Law'n Order on the television, the same three stories recirculating between us.... a perfect way to while away the hours.

I'm beginning to forget the weakness at the end; my memories are sweeter this way.
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While away the hours--I had to stop in mid-paragraph to Google that phrase. AuthorSally assuaged my fear that I was over-thinking the issue.  Wile, as in beguile or entice, is exactly what I intended, but the h stubbornly refused to leave my brain.

There's an ongoing discussion of this issue on-line, but I am not entranced by its wiles.
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Politics is the only thing that's moving in the air these days.  As the yellow mesquite and palo verde blossoms have turned to brownish dust gathering in fitful piles on driveways, covering golden barrel cacti with intractable glee, campaign signs are beginning to crop up to replace them.

There are at least three Republicans running for almost every contested seat on my ballot. For the first time, ever, anywhere, in my memory, the Democrats have refrained from shooting themselves in the foot.  There's one candidate for each race.

In this state, it's enough to be not a Republican.
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I ended up in my favorite low-rent burrito place, eating half of the always-too-spicy-but-exactly-what-I-wanted lunch and reading The Essential Dashiell Hammett.  My June class  covers the history of the detective story.

Did you know that the detective story was invented? I did not.

I am as anxious for school to start as I ever have been in my life.
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I avoided the yarn store and managed to hold my FlapJilly purchases to pretty too-big-to-be-swallowed buttons. At the nursery, I checked out with two ebony vinca in 4" plastic pots and a small jar of citrus fertilizer (pure nitrogen).

Even the credit card is exhausted.
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Driving home, past the pod-castle, I remembered how soft G'ma's hands felt as we sat on the couch in the rec room, watching old musicals with the other residents and their families.  I thought of how soft FlapJilly's hands and feet will be, and I smiled.

It's that circle of life thing again, denizens.  I can't deny it.