Woke up this morning with a mysterious bite on my left arm. Swollen and itchy. It's the third such affliction, or, outbreak, I've had in the past week. Kathy thinks it's a Hualapai Tiger, a nefarious, stinging critter that evidently followed me down here from Kingman (they are notorious in that region). Going to see the doctor this morning.
Garage door broke. It's a Hungrite, and lasted 22 years. Not bad. A Hungrite technician is coming out Monday (to hang it right again).
Haven't been going on my daily walks because of the heat, although we've had the coolest June since 1913. It was just right at about 6:45 so I leashed up Peaches and went up the road. In addition to good health, I had an ulterior motive (read on).
I'm working on a series of Century plants in my daily sketches, but a year ago I was doing cowboy sketches for an Op Ed piece in the Arizona Republic:
Got some good types going:
I submitted a Plugged In commentary for this coming Sunday on "Driving A Stake In Father's Day". It's based on the fact that I love steak and can't eat it anymore, much to the chagrin of my Mohave County ranching relatives, several of which are pictured here (and above):
So, why did I really go on that walk this morning?
Yesterday, Robert Ray started an 8-page-mini-Mickey Free, sort of a pocket Mickey, and I jumped at the potential, realizing it could be a sweet little trailer. And, besides, I love this quote:
"Angels whisper to a man when he goes for a walk."
And, yes they did. Results after I visit the doctor.
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