It’s been such a nice day that I thought I’d leave the TV off and get a few things done. Number one was to give those pretty yellow flowers in the yard a second baptism of weed killer because the first one didn’t take. They must not be Lutheran dandelions. I have opened the back door to let some fresh air in and hopefully bring with it a few wisps of inspiration as I now assume my familiar position at the computer keyboard. Unfortunately all I hear is the gentle whirr of the overhead fan and a chorus of neighborhood dogs yelping their lungs out. Talk about inspiration, one starts to bark and all the others within earshot feel compelled to join in. I wonder if it’s just an instinctive reaction or if they’re actually communicating with one another. “Ruff, Ruff…Hey, Sadie what the heck are your masters cookin’ for supper over there..it smells delicious like dead carp or Buster’s butt.” “Yelp, Yelp..It’s Mediterranean. That’s the curry your perceptive snout is picking up. They used to toss me a few scraps and it was real tasty but hot as that German Shepard down the street. They stopped sharing with me, though, because they didn’t get to the back door fast enough to let me out and I left them a little steamy souvenir on the carpet.” Man, that stuff was as hot goin’ out as it was goin’ in. Did you hear about Spike..the neighborhood stud hound?” He hasn’t been the same since his master brought him back from the repair shop. He must have broken something because he was going to get fixed. Something happened there, though, because now he just sits around with his sad-eyed head on his paws as if there’s nothing left to live for. Poor fella. Maybe I should strut by there and give him a little whiff..see if that perks him up a bit.”
This might be my final blog, folks. No, Keloland is not pulling the plug; God is. Haven’t you heard? The world as we know it is coming to an end at Six PM central time on Saturday.
Pioneer Press Photo
Yup, according to 89 year old engineer turned biblical scholar, Harold Camping of California, the ground will start shaking, graveyards will give up their dead and the faithful will be lifted heavenward while the condemned sinners will taste the fires of Hell with lots of wailing, teeth gnashing and clothes ripping. Repent-Now billboards have sprung up all over the country warning of the impending doom and offering last minute deals on salvation. I been kicking myself since hearing the news because I just filled up Big Red this morning. $3.69 a gallon at the Freedom station on South Minnesota. That’s still insanely high but the cheapest I’ve seen anywhere else in town. It still cost 57 bucks to top off the tank and now I won’t have time to burn it up. Shoot, I thought we had until 2012 before the world ends according to that Mayan calendar thingy. Well, we’ll just have to wait and see but if the truth be known, these predictions tend to unnerve me; a reminder that even though it probably won’t happen Saturday or a year from Saturday, we’re all going to have to be ready for the trip someday. I just hope and pray that I’m heading up and not down.
The dogs have started yapping away again. They’re really going at it. Perhaps they’ve just heard the news that it could get very VERY hot Saturday evening and are passing the word . I can see Spike still laying in a heap out on the back deck. He looks as though his world already came to an end after that trip to the repair shop.
