My days are much the same:
I get up at an ungodly hour because it is
summer and I could theoretically sleep in.
I appease the doodles with some kibble.
I feed my tank of fish.
I make the coffee and then check my e-mail.
After drinking a cup of my much loved Cowboy Coffee,
I stumble off to the shower.
Then I go to school and paint for what seems like forever,
but in reality is only a mere six to eight hours.
I'm never going to be a professional painter.
It rains.
Somehow I thought today might be different
because of the storm yesterday.
because of the storm yesterday.
Nope.
I got up at an ungodly hour and followed my regular routine.
I drove out to school and the road grader was plowing through the mud.
There was no way to safely get around him
so I drove down an extra mile and turned off.
so I drove down an extra mile and turned off.
This would be the road by the Fairview Cemetary
where Grandma Fritzler is buried.
where Grandma Fritzler is buried.
The entire cemetary was still covered with hail.
It looked like it had snowed.
It looked like it had snowed.
I should have stopped for a picture,
but there was a pick-up behind me so I didn't.
but there was a pick-up behind me so I didn't.
It turned off, so I did take this picture.
Quite a difference from yesterday, but still pretty incredible.
The field looks like a bog. This one still has hail in the foreground.
Vicki and I spent the day painting.
Have I mentioned how much I hate to paint?
We both had doctor appointments this afternoon, so we left about 2:00.
I took this picture as I walked out the front door:
I couldn't believe there was still hail at school.
That prompted me to drive back the way I came this morning.
Can you believe there were STILL hail drifts?
There was still some hail at the cemetary too, but you can't see it very well in this picture.
But note all of the green in the foreground. These are pine needles that were knocked off the trees. The road was literally carpeted with them.
I went to the doctor and believe it or not, when I came out it was raining.
Like I said, my days are all the same.
About all that changes is what Willowby brings in for supper for her brood.
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