Nobody at the West Virginia truck stop wore a mask, while nearly everyone at the drugstore in Kentucky and the grocery store in Missouri did.
When driving through several states I notice that road signs have different philosophies. Should I be more concerned about the past or the present? One state warns me to look up and another warns me to look down. I’m trying to avoid both fallen rocks and falling rocks on the drive.
You’re not a firework. Don’t drive lit.
As the light drains from the sky, a single bat flaps toward the crescent moon.
I picked up a cushion from the outside bench and there were hundreds of ant eggs in the space between the boards. Now that the eggs were in the sunlight, the ant colony sprung into action and every ant grabbed an egg and moved it to an alternate, dark location. Once that egg was moved, the ant came back and grabbed another one.
This is a great example of how to respond in a crisis. Everyone knows exactly what their task is and they accomplish it. Within minutes, all of the eggs were gone because of decentralized control and an understanding of what needs to be done. The sunlight was the trigger for the ants to take action.
I was nearly cut off by a car with Honk if you Love Jesus on the bumper. It was not a small sticker, but vinyl letters that ran the width of the bumper. I couldn’t bring myself to honk at the car because I was afraid the driver would think I loved Jesus.
I dreamed I was reading The Intestinal Fortitude of Marriage. It was 42 chapters.