I awoke today about as depressed as I ever get. It was a bit of a rough night for sleeping here at the Landfill, which didn’t help. Of course I fell into a Shoreline Dream something like 20 minutes before I wanted to wake up. I won’t go into too much detail but this one featured the ramshackle old Doelle house turned into some kind of a “rock shop”. I was in there with my cousin UKW who morphed into one of the Piedy gals (Bee, if you happen to read this, girl). Then as I was walking back down the beach, part of the bank morphed into a 20-foot sand cliff covered with blueberry plants. I wanted to go back and walk the old road through the woods but couldn’t figure out how to scale the cliff. AND THEN! Built into the side of the cliff at each end were modern rest rooms with big wooden swinging doors and everything. At that I woke myself up. Jeebus!

My 0-skunk-30 walk usually shakes off a bad dream (not that this was all that bad, just weird but shoreline dreams always are). That didn’t help today and the usual tRump/COVID hangover hung around well into the morning. It doesn’t help that I am living in a house divided. Arguing does not help. I am usually talked over and sometimes dismissed as, well, once or twice during this 4-year ordeal, “stupid.” Um, why? Because I disagree with you?

Anyway, it is what it is and we got out in Mooon Yooonit this afternoon and explored some back roads, listening to Jeannie Seeley’s Sunday satty-lite radio show. This is the kind of thing we do well together and today was no exception. We headed over to check out the old Stone School Co-op nursery, then down past the Ellsworth drop-off center. Since we were on Platt Road, we kept going south until it ended, then we jogged west and further south, turning back north before we hit the Ohio border.

Our conversations mainly involved meeee following our route on GooMaps, pointing out all of the little rivers, streams, drains, and ditches we crossed as well as other points of interest on the flatlands in southeast Michigan not far from the Ohio border. Pheasant farms and huge (apparently) unharvested cabbage fields were a highlight and no, it doesn’t take much. It’s a beautiful area albeit not in a flashy way.

On our way back north, a wee bit of excitement as we entered the village of Britton! What is that NOISE? Is it the car? Is it on the radio? I thought it sounded like a tornado siren so I opened my window and yes, that’s what it was. For a minute I looked around for a tornado even though it was way too cold for one. I figured volunteer fire department. We continued north and sure enough 10 minutes later the flashing lights of a faaaarr engine appeared in the distance behind us.

More Trump signs than Biden today but we were in Trump country. That said, I saw more signs for local politicians than either presidential candidate. If you can refer to Trump as “presidential.” Sorry but I had to say that.

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