3 things not to do on the bus:

1. Don’t fall asleep. Yes, people make fun of you. No, no one is going to wake you at your stop. And yes, drooling does kill your credibility.

2. Don’t talk politics. If you really had an interesting take to share publicly, you’d be on the radio. No matter what point you have, no matter how good you articulate it, 1/2 the bus will think your wrong, and the other half will think you’re right for the wrong reason. You can’t win, move on to something else. If you can’t think of anything else, get off the bus and run for office.

3. Don’t eat unless you have plenty to share. Just a carry over from kindergarten and plain good policy.

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I can be juvenile too. You know, to show how adults should be. You know, how to be how you should, not like you are or how I’m being to show how you are. How else will you learn how to be, or not to be? Exactly, just do the opposite of what you and I are both dong. Then you’ll be like me.

That apparently is my logic in deciding to not wash the kid’s dishes that he leaves in place of watching TV and doing, um, nothing. I wash all the other dishes but leave his. You know so he sees them, feels guilty and thinks, “Hey, maybe I should wash my dishes instead of leaving them on the coffee table or sitting in the sink.”

That’s what I’ve been doing. Is it working? Not really. My sink, the one I would prefer to be void of dirty dishes at all times, now has permanent residents called “his dishes”.

Do I pitch a fit? Just wash the dishes? Continue to boycott the washing of all “lazy dishes”? I’m torn between making a point and making an ass of myself. I’m pretty sure I know which way I’m headed but I can’t get myself to just resign myself as the dish bitch.

To be continued.

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I know the weather will change several times between now and when it does for good (whatever that means), but this morning I made a shift. I hung up the mesh motorcycle gloves and put on the thinker pair. They are not my winter set, nor the wet weather gauntlets that I own, but the “not let the wind run wild over the bare skin below the mesh because that gets cold on the knuckles” ones.

Next will be the change of jacket, and then the coat, and then the coat with lining.  All when nature demands it and I decide I will heed to it.

I know the calendar says fall time, but what is real is actual air temperature blowing past me on the bike.

And so are so many things in life- criticism is one think that I think of.

Just because someone criticizes your work, your writing, your life; it doesn’t mean that they are right. But take a moment and look at what you’re doing. Are you riding cold because of denial, or did the weather man have a point. And if there’s a reason, fix it. Not because someone told you so, but because it needs fixing.

But if the sun is out and it’s a warm fall, by all means: Half helmet, sunglasses, t-shirt, and mesh riding gloves will be just fine. To hell with the calendar and to hell with what others not in your shoes think!

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I thought I could maintain this blog while I was out and about, but alas, I could not. So I will claim “vacation” and move on.

Today is my first day back t the paying job at he University and back to my morning time writing. I have begun the editing process to the second book in the OPR series- Cursing Black’s Trail.

I am also working on getting the POD version of “Ain’t Dead Yet” and “Twice the Christmas” available as well.

The amazing thing here at the paying gig, is that everything is still the same. I don’t know why I’m surprised. nothing ever changes here. At least, not quickly.

I feel refreshed. Usually I come back from vacation worn out. But not this time. I feel like the time off paid off. I enjoyed getting Ain’t Dead Yet finished in week 1 and then spending the time with my mom and dad on week two and then spending the “Birthday Weekend” with A.

I am now looking forward to some October fishing before the snow begins. I have another 5+ weeks on the books for time off- might as well use them while the fishing is good.

It’s such a simple thing. Pack enough clothes for a few days. Nothing really different than anything you do everyday. Pick out some socks, a shirt, pants and yes mother, some clean underwear.

But there’s something about doing it for more than just the immediate day that stumps me. What if I need more. Then I better pack more. But you feel like an idiot when you return home and see the stuff you packed but didn’t use.

“Better safe than sorry.” Advice like that is why I take too many shirts, coats, jackets, etc. I start to look like I’m leaving for the winter.

I hate packing.

Some day, I hope to be so wealthy that I can just send out servants in the evening to purchase my next day’s clothes and discard the previous ones.

Of course, what if something happens and you need them…

I hate packing.

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Phone went quiet.

Found out Service was cut.

Realized bill not paid.

Discovered how poor I had become.

Began to feel sorry for myself.

Recalled song, “Wish I was a rich man”.

Watched “Fiddler on the Roof”

Created blog post.