The Best Planned Lays of Mice and Men . . .

We've been doing a lot more running around than I am used to doing. I think it's affecting me mentally.  (Twitch, twitch)  It has been my sacrifice to the alter of family sanity.  Having Honey off work for four-plus weeks, bored to tears, with a cast on his arm severely limiting any activity, has made for a real challenge.  

Don't get me wrong, spending time with Honey isn't any sacrifice, but spending time with him away from home is. I like to be home.  I prefer to be home.  I love my home, so why would I want to be anywhere else?

Yesterday, my plan was to go no farther away than the patio.  The best planned lays, etc. etc.  Then we wound up borrowing Sister's pickup truck to make a trip to the landfill.  Cleaning the garage produced more garbage than a little bit.  

Sarah was under the impression that the landfill was still down at the edge of our small town, approximately a mile and a half from here.  No such luck.  The old boneyard closed up around five years ago.  The new landfill is clear out at Little Mountain, by Thiokol.

Sarah gets car sick, so Shawn and I took a road trip.  Neither of us saw any signs making reference to landfill, so we wound up almost to Promontory.  You know, meeting of the railroads, Golden Spike, and all that rot?

I still have connections, so I called Garbage Driver Mike.  He told us how to get there.  He also told me that things have gone to hell since I've been gone.  I don't care if he was lying through his teeth, I'm taking him at his word.

Long and short, we were in the truck, on the road for well over an hour.  Understand this:  it was farther than my patio! 

This is a token picture.  I've been playing with my photo editing software again.  It keeps me off the streets and out of landfills.