Do I seem “mellower?”

I cleaned my garage on Saturday. Its sort of an initial step before working on my attic to turn it from a dusty place to store stuff to a writing loft to suit my vanity. I hope to set it up organize all the records I’d like to have easily accessible to write a number of books. My eight long suffering, loyal readers can certainly vouch for my incapacity to stop my fingers from flying before posting nonsense to this blog.

Stuff from the attic might fit in the garage if I clean the garage out. I guess that’s my modus operandi. At any rate puttering around in the sun kept me out of Claudia’s hair while she worked on a sermon for Sunday. It was a good one about the parable about the sower of seeds. She’s a third generation Iowa farmer (in absentia).

It was grandkids Sunday so the blog suffered but recent visitors will have noted the gauntlet that the District threw down. I’m to be interviewed about the crimes of Art Johnston. I’d give my full throttle reply about a 99% likelyhood of making an appearance before the end of this week before I drive down to visit my son in St. Louis and retrieve the air conditioner we gave him last fall that he doesn’t need afterall.

I’ve got my four page appeal for donations to the Johnston Defense Fund written and a PO Box for donations set up. I won’t be part of any legal work on Art’s behalf because I saw how that blew up in Gary Glass’s face three years ago. I will help raise money for the attorneys however.

Which leads me to the comment I found so ironic at yesterday’s Taste of Greece festival put on by the Twelve Holy Apostle’s Greek Orthodox Church at Marshall School. A teacher from Chester Park who I went to the Wolf Ridge Center back when my kids were in grade school told me he thought age had made me mellower. Well, in some ways I suppose. I need to keep a little mellow to avoid blowing a gasket as my pipes are sixty plus years old. But really, I’m not so sure. I campaigned saying West Duluth’s schools were suffering from gangrene last Fall. I’m on the verge of counterattacking my new colleagues on the School Board for recklessness, tyranny, cluelessness a whole host of other sins.

Maybe because its summer no one is much paying attention including this teacher. Maybe I’d have been a lot noisier twenty years ago. I don’t know. My bet is on its being summer.

Time for me to go sing to my Mom and come home and tidy up the attic. That’s a good thing to do on a rainy day.

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