I had to go by the post office this morning, an errand that I normally loathe. Though I have to say, it was nice not to wait in some god-awful line at the post office the way one might in a post office in a larger city.
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| It's a post office. You've seen one, you've seen them all. |
The flags outside the post office were at half mast this morning. The only reason I can think of is because of 19 dead fire fighters.
On the way home I pulled into the long-defunct Country Club GAS station (yes, it's across from the semi-private 18-hole golf course). I've been wanting to take a picture of the red sign:
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| We no have gas no more, yo. |
This sign:
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| Would you vote for this guy? |
The skies are washed out today, gearing up for rain. It's also supposed to be a relatively cool 90 degrees today.
I meant to get photos of the two fireworks vendors who have set up shop in town, one in the Walmart parking lot, one in an empty lot along the main drag. Selling--and setting off--fireworks in the middle of a drought is not the smartest thing ever, I'll admit. But we're Americans goddammit and we have rights. One of those rights is clearly the right to risk burning everything down. That's why we have tax payer- funded firefighters I guess.
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