Curmudgeon Time

Mr. Cranky Pants is back. Richard, bless him, tried to call me yesterday to schedule a local lunch but I had inadvertently dialed my "forward to the van number." Not content to wait for my messages to catch up with me he violated my space and my boundaries by showing up. He didn't get in the door. I am not ashamed of my lifestyle but I know it is incomprehensible to the anal retentives of the world who then have to chatter and gossip as is their wont. And I won't spend a minute trying to explain what is inexplicable to them. ( Quite simply it is my life and I get to spend it how I want to.) It is none of their business and if they would simply honor my privacy, neither of us would have a moment's discomfort. Stay the fuck away from my refuge is the plain and simple rule.

As I told him, I am aware that I could tip over someday and after 66 years, most of them alone, I am prepared for that. Not his business. Honor the living-the dead are dead. He left after making enquiries about some of my vehicles. He's not getting them until I get the books mother left me.

Next topic: I am loving that Rush Limbaugh turned out to be the skunk at the garden party as far as the NFL is concerned. Intemperate remarks and racism are evidently anathema in the billionaire crowd, too.

Next topic: So typically, the Utah Highway Patrol is setting up roadblocks near Wendover to stop "Drunken Deer Widows." http://www.sltrib.com/news/ci_13569142
No concern whatsoever about what the men are doing in the woods and on the highways-just "keep them wild wimmen under control. Gotta proteck them from theirselves-poor weak creatures."

On a happier note, I have posted pictures of the Oregon trip which can be found by clicking on something:

Oregon Trip October 2009