Hello June!

...May, don't let the door hit you in the @$$ on your way out!!!

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I'm so happy to be done with May I could dance a jig. I would but my butt still has a burn that hurts when I wiggle.
See previous post re: having a seizure at Target.

So, not only did I get the lovely butt-burn, as we've come to call it at my house with all love and tenderness intended, of course. Following the butt-burn incident I was visited by yet another seizure last week in which I somehow threw out my back in the process.

Wifester said I constricted pretty tight, and that my back was arched, so I suppose that's what did it. I spent a few days with heating pads and dreams of being young and not afflicted by such troubles.

It has rained pretty much every weekend here in Middle Tennessee ever since Spring sprung, until, that is, this weekend.

The Wifester and I decided it's been a bit too long since we took the Sunny Dog to the park for a picnic, so we packed one up and headed out. We have a neighborhood park right around the corner from where we live with picnic tables and shade trees. No playground equipment for kids, but hey, they gave us picnic tables and shade trees...
This park shares property with our new Police Sub-Station that was installed last year to hopefully help curb the crime rates in this area.
I've been hopeful about the prospects of having police presence within the neighborhood like that, thinking it would deter criminal activity.

One of my acquaintances from the area commented to me once that she noticed that the same police cars seemed to always be there and the station always seemed to be empty. She wondered if they were simply parked there to grant the appearance of a manned station. That peaked my curiosity. Especially after that U-Haul incident, in which I am certain that I prevented my neighbor's house from being robbed.

The first thing Wifester and I noticed as we turned into the drive for the park/police sub-station was the front door to the station. Or maybe I should say the Ginormous piece of ply board substituting for a door on the police sub-station.



That's pretty peculiar. Right? I mean, to me, and I'm no CSI professional, but to me, it looks like the kind of thing one may do after a door has been busted in on.

Hmmmm.

Upon further inspection, it did appear that at least on this day the police sub-station in question was in fact, unmanned with two police cars parked in the back.

Shrugging our shoulders and marking it off to be just another one of those things...we headed on back to the park area.

The next thing that we encountered at our community park was an abundance of these signs:


Really? A park that insists visitors stay off the grass? If they intended it to mean for visitors not to park on the grass, one would think that the signs would be located only in the driveway and parking lot, and read "Do Not Park on Grass" or "No Parking on Grass" or something of the kind. But in my experience, when there is a Stay off Grass sign, the posters of said sign meant just that. And typically they provided a sidewalk to walk on.
Not my neighborhood park, provided by my wonderful city. They stragecialy placed every picnic table IN THE GRASS and then posted a billion signs asking us to STAY OFF GRASS, and I'm pretty sure that was not just an anti-marijuana campaign...


Unable to find a path to any picnic table that was not covered in grass, and not in the mood to receive a citation or fine, Wifester and I opted instead to take the Sunny Dog to Long Hunter State Park. It's a bit of a ride to get there, but Sunny Dog loves the car ride and there's no silly Stay off Grass warnings. Plus, we got to see deer and wild turkeys and silly teenagers risking certain death by jumping off of the cliffs and into the lake.

I'm so glad June is here. I hope all the bad Juju that May brought with it is over now too.