Monday, May 11, 2015

Happy Monday.

Clear sky’s, ground still soggy and mushy. Things go well for my part of Kansas.

Even the village no-goodnics have forgotten to bug me. They’ve probably figured out that it wasn’t, and hasn’t been I that ripped their cash off.

Rater funny, even so.

I fell asleep during the rain delay NASCAR race at KC, never did hear and didn’t want to look up the winners.

Turned on FOX Sports 1 and picked up the race this morning at the same place I’d remembered before passing out. Grats, Jimmy Johnson. Jr, third. Not bad by Hendricks. I’d like to see a couple of other owners be able to generate that sort of horsepower and contest some of these things.

I suppose that’s why I cheer for the Furniture Row crew a lot.

Creeks gone down, so the fast drainage is over. Time to hook up for some hay cutting. It is a bit early, it seems, but the grass is starting to stem out and go to seed now. Maybe we’ll get two cuttings this year, rather than one and a smidgen.

The government has me seeing shadows, I think. I went to the bank, having a sales clerk remark about my checkbook balance, thinking to transfer some funds from checking to pass book savings.

My first question to the teller was asking her if I would be investigated for making a money movement of the size I wanted.

She laughed at me. No, she said, only if it is money. They don’t worry about it if it is among accounts.

Which bothers me even yet. Not with standing a paper trail through two tax filings.

I’m such a wuss.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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