Mulling things on my morning ramble with Lady, our family's mutt.
Cheap jokes hang with me. Or I hang with them.
Naturally, venturing out this morning, I noticed the sidewalks and side streets were all kinds of slick with something--mist, condensation, drizzle--that froze overnight.
So I naturally walked on the snow and grass where I could to keep from flying on my ass and making a spectacle of myself.
And just as naturally I went to my days of landscaping after high school and in college: ``Easy Digging'' by S. Andy Soil; ``Hard Digging'' by Clay Dirt. You get the idea. Or maybe you don't want to get the idea.
This morning I was three-cups-of-coffee creative and came up with ``Treacherous Walking'' by I.C. Kahn-Dishseans.
I am so riled up to do the Chicagoland Fishing, Travel & Outdoors Show at the Schaumburg Convention Center for the next four days that I was up at 4 a.m. And Lady and I rambled off well before 6 a.m.
So dark this morning that early that we did not hear, see or roust any wildlife. I did notice that most of the snow, other than some remnant drifts, had melted out by the town pond.
I did not see any fresh ice-fishing holes on either old clay pit.
But I did get a nice night shot of Lady, which shows just how beautiful she really is. Yes, that is the photo at the top.
Back on the edge of town, a pair of passing freight trains cut the last of the night with dueling headlights as they passed the grain elevators.
The chef/cook, who fills his food truck for migrant and nursery workers at a restaurant downtown, was already working. I could see the light in the back by the kitchen. And the wonderful waftings of taco and burrito fixings filled the air.
The bank thermometer read 35. Probably just a degree or two off. But those degree or two make a difference.
The street by the house with the bur oaks a block from home was as slick as when we set off.
``Slick Surfaces,'' by Fraus T. Streets.