of the same, really.  Although I did eventually begin tentatively walking Aggie around the block

mostly it was similar forays

to the bottom of Second and back to…yeah.

Friday as the newly officially declared National Holiday Weekend began I noted that our neighbors in the natty red cottage down the street had precipitously removed their festive row of flags [not shown] from their patriotic lawn.  Perhaps they were belatedly alerted to the fact

that “Juneteenth” had something to do with…Black People? Same morning, despite the lesser of the two security lines out of Oakland taking over an hour [after twenty plus years you’d think even the Totally Stupid Assholes could have that figured out?], Linda made her flight

to Montana, leaving the Inkies to be to walked by Scott for three mornings.

The days turned temporarily cooler so I took the opportunity

to polish the wheels of the ’45, a small gesture that nonetheless just about wiped me out.

As L. was wined, dined and celebrated in Big Sky over the weekend I edged the truck back

into the the Industrial luncheonette for the summer.

Sunday

we awaited her triumphal return, unhappily delayed when a cargo door wouldn’t close leaving

[or not leaving] Las Vegas – ain’t air travel just wonderful?  Fortunately, all well ending well, she was home to a-not-that-belated dinner, “The Return of Sherlock Holmes”, bed and rest.

Albeit only a brief rest as the world heated up in myriad ways including [but not limited to] triple digits in Benicia…packing, shopping, loading [Scott again], all

leaving me too depleted Tuesday

to go anywhere beyond around the alley with Aggie, last day, longest day,

longest uninterrupted time here ever.  It’s been swell ‘n’ all but time to go…