o, el arti/super? ficial re-encarnacìon de Tiny Elvis: este es uno (uno mas) de mini-relato cual tiene nada que hacer con nada. Pero, por lo general, escribo varias cosas con fotos cual, otra vez, tienen nada que hacer con nada. ¿Claro? ♪ … Continue reading
Yeah, right. With my luck, I’d end up in Mormon Purgatory. Continue on in Jewish limbo? (Oh why, Lowered, does this pschidt always happen to me?) Be banished to being an alimentary-canal bacterium in the Boddhisatva’s stomach?
But if I wuzz, you know, to abide after the body’s demise, in some pre-ordained boundary set of conditions for the next “go around” — it’d be like today (Satyrday, March 30).
We slept in late. How indolent is that?
We drove up into the hills, to the south (and upper) end of Cactus Park — where Betty rode the bike around the CP loop and I ran up Gibbler Gulch (see “x” in photo).
The south end of Gibbler Mountain — Gibbler Gulch goes west, eventually into the Dominguez Wilderness Area. We parked at a BLM park-lot at the yellow circle. Betty rode her bike back and around the “Cactus Park Circle” while I (& dawgz) went up the valley, through the red “X” … after a mile of ATV-churned sandy trail, we were in the forest, the stream was flowing with ice in places, with fresh canine footprints (fox and coyotes?) on top of the faded ATV tracks. Chattering of squirrels and various birds in the trees. The cerulean canopy overhead, punctuated by billowy cumulus.
Back home, as the Beatles might’ve sung (had they been Spanish)
Hacer el jardín, cavando las malos-hierbas, ¿ quién podria pedir por màs ?
I was fatigued, Betty was on a mild exercize-induced high. What better way to hydrate and sedate whilst “puttering about the yard” than …
A Stone Brewery offering, in the “odd year” 2013 series — a barley-wine style ale, with 11+% ACTIVE INGREDIENT!
And a 60-ring gauge Cubano, now that the lungs were cleared out and better able to appreciate it …
My kind of day — with, of course, good food (JonnyCarino’s!) & muzyk (we werkt on some new sawngz) later …