The earth is not your garbage can

A dream woke me up this morning, well part of a dream. Weirdly enough I still remember the dream, and normally I can't remember my dreams.

I had planned on trying to sleep late today, but a loud clap of thunder woke me up. I got out of bed, checked outside, and it wasn't storming. So I did what any sane person does, I searched Google.

I was looking for dream interpretation, but stumbled on a better explanation.

Apparently there’s a phenomenon called Exploding Head Syndrome, a harmless, painless sleep disorder where a person briefly hears a sudden, intensely loud sound like an explosion, gunshot, or cymbal crash when falling asleep or waking up. It tends to pop up more often after 50, just another delightful little surprise aging likes to toss our way.

It certainly wasn’t a pleasant way to start the morning.

Once assured Zeus wasn't after me, I went to feed my little stray. She has started sitting on my porch and meowing at us, yet when we try to get close to her, she still runs away. I have hopes of eventually taming her, but she's still wildly feral.

When I got back to the porch, we had a package. So the Post Office must be declaring a truce in the ongoing war, they actually put a package where I asked. Mind you the package itself looked like Godzilla stomped all over it, and there was a note that said it arrived partially open.

When Badger woke up, she finished opening it and said nothing was missing. Luckily it was only a pair of pants and a bottle of mouthwash.

The morning moved along quietly. I was on the computer, and Badger was on her handheld game.

Cowboy woke up at 11 a.m. today. I never know when he's going to crawl out of the bedroom and head to the living room.

He ate breakfast and disappeared outside.

Badger headed to the she-shed, I stepped outside with her for a minute or so.

Next thing I know, Cowboy's truck was gone.
The man didn't bother to tell us where he was going. Of course he doesn't have to, but it would still be nice to know.

He got back about 2 p.m., tired and cranky. He told me, “I want you to put a shame on you up on Facebook.”

Then he handed me his phone, showed me where to find a picture, and left me to it.

Where my father‑in‑law lived was up a hill from the underpass. If you don’t keep this drainage ditch clear, the underpass floods.

Now this should be the responsibility of the county, not private residents.

The county road department ignores us.

When the grass gets dangerously high at the stop signs, some town person will go down and weed whack it into submission.

Cowboy's dad, and now Cowboy, keeps going down to the underpass and clearing enough debris out to stop the flooding.

So, after years and years and years of doing this alone, and people keeping on throwing trash in the ditch, I think Cowboy finally hit the end of his patience today.

I did as he asked. I put the picture of the beer cans and trash that Cowboy took up on the town Facebook page, along with a “Y'all Ought to Be Ashamed!”

He got a few comments, and then the man who is trying to get elected county commissioner pops up with a “hey people, let's have community day and clean this up, and then we'll put a mural up on that underpass. But now everyone will have to keep an eye to make sure it's not defaced again.”

I asked if that wasn't what our constable was for, and no one answered.
I've not seen hide nor hair of that constable since he was elected. Up until the election he was all, “My opponent, the current constable, is so lazy, and I'm going to do a better job for you.” He got elected, and I've not seen him since. At least the old constable rode around in his little constable car.

I kept my mouth shut, but Cowboy's nephew is one of the worst offenders for that trash, and it's being purely lazy. Instead of burning the trash or taking it to the dump, he'll leave it in his yard, the animals get into it, drag it off, and the wind blows it all over.

There is also a house that just tosses all their trash over into the field where the drainage ditch drains.

Mostly, though, it's just people who drive through and toss trash out of their windows. Or they take trash to the dump, it blows out of their trucks, and they leave it.

No one has pride in this town, and honestly, it’s hard to blame them. The town died back in the sixties, and if you want anything, a doctor, a store, a movie, even a simple park, you have to go twelve miles out of here. You live here, but it’s a dead town, and nothing gets maintained or improved. When a place sits forgotten this long, people stop expecting anything to change.

After that, the day settled down, and nothing much else happened.

I've literally been on the computer all day. I'm cleaning up the blog a bit. I started looking through posts, and oh my gosh, either Firefox or Blogger duplicated multiple passages in posts. Or worse, added multiple line breaks. It's a huge old mess, and time consuming to go through all the posts I have published. Lesson learned, though. I won't blog on Firefox anymore. I've moved over to Edge.
The biggest hassle, of course, is having to sift through countless posts and republish them.

Cowboy and Badger have been outside all day. Both of them took a break for supper, Badger and I watched an episode of our show, and then she headed back outside.

Badger has been making a camera box, and I'm not sure what Cowboy was doing.

They were happy, I was happy.

Pitch black dark, and they're both still outside. They'll be back in eventually.

Vacation Bible School starts tomorrow. If the weather stays hot and sunny, Cowboy plans on heading to a riverbank with a fishing pole.

Badger and I will have to find something to do.