I probably over-did my morning constitutional yesterday. Bored with walking the same old route through my subdivision I ventured across redacted to another subdivision. I ended up traipsing about four miles while smoking a fine stogie. I came home and watched a couple of episodes of the old TV series Kung Fu because Kung fu. No more needs to be explained. Next, I suppose you are going to ask why I would watch a John Wayne movie or one of those Clint Eastwood orangutan comedies. You might as well ask why is there air.
In the afternoon I helped the wife straighten up the house. By late afternoon my legs were mildly sore. Last night we joined some friends for dinner. It was his birthday celebration. We came back to the house and played some euchre. In all, it was a pretty good day.
And you don't care a whit about any of this. No, no, don't protest. I know that glazed-over look in your eyes. I see it in my fair wife's hazel eyes often enough. I'm a little disappointed. I thought your day, indeed, your very happiness, hinged upon my insight, my punditry, my humor, my very existence in the blogosphere. Now I find out you stop by out of habit. It is quite possible you stopped reading some time ago. In that case you are going to miss this: the secret word is shillelagh.
Since you have developed such a bad attitude on this gorgeous Sunday morning I'm not going to describe the weather, per my custom. That will show you.
I said good day, sir.