Monday, August 31, 2020


Out of sight, out of mind
This morning I awoke to realize that I had not written a blog yesterday. Hence there was no new post waiting to greet my friends and readers as the sun rose. Frankly, I forgot. Yesterday raced away from me and suddenly it was over. In addition - no mind boggling bits of wisdom hit me. So in truth - I had nothing to say. Which honestly is rather shocking given everything that's going on in our world at large. But also indication that life here in central Montana is much as it always has been. The fact is that as the rest of the world implodes - we're enjoying one of the loveliest summers in years.
Red tide
Living in a bubble is quite wonderful. However at times it can be infuriating or... entertaining. Like the recent decision by our Fergus County Commissioners to stop mail-in voting. All because local right wingers screamed about the potential of voter fraud. When in reality the chances of it happening here are next to nothing. Well over seventy percent of locals voted for Mr. Trump in the last election. Hence it's safe to assume their favorite hue is rouge. Obviously it would take a tsunami or leftist manipulation to stem said red tide. Thus as usual it was much ado about nothing.
Courtesy counter
I can't help but wonder what makes some of my friends and neighbors tick. Recently one of the few local restaurants ended outdoor dining. Why? Because quite a few folks refused to adhere to the Montana State mandates related to masks. When asked to do just that they raised quite a ruckus. At the grocer there is a large sign at the entrance stating masks are required for entry. Yet as one rolls the aisles - few if any have masks on. Why is it that something so easy is so hard for some. They claim it infringes on their freedom. Hmm... freedom to infect the rest of us? So as I said, nothing much to say today.

Sunday, August 30, 2020

7th Day Surprise: Going South


It's been said that the south shall rise again.
Yet sadly it seems that
some southerners
still seem unable to let bygones be bygones.

Who knows for whom
the belle tolls?