Hello! It’s me.

Dad says we need to take the RV out for a “test ride” to make sure that all of the computer codes suggesting horrific or even catastrophic failure have been cleared.

I’m in!

So we’re off and runnin’ … up to Mortimer Family Farms (click here). This is old-school farmin’, pups, a place where you just walk in and grab yourself a handful of frozen rib steaks and a dozen ears of corn and then swipe your credit card. It’s just that easy!

I mean, the place is filled with wonderment!

Yes, yes, they let pups come in to sample all that is good about nature, fake bunnies included.

They say that family farms are fun for those age two to ninety-two. I agree!

From there, we stopped at a local softball park to take part in our National Pastime … softball. All the pups love to take in a game, #amirite?

After tailgating for a while, I took a seat on Mom’s legs and watched the action.

Then some big thunder-bumpers approached …

I was relegated to viewing the final inning through the RV windshield.

You know, a bit of fam-time in the RV leaves me with a peaceful, easy feeling.

I’ll tell ya, I’m a big-time fan of old-school farmin’ … combine it with a bit of softball and you have the prescription for a fun day!

Hello! It’s me!

Sometimes you’re on the lookout for threats, and they aren’t real, and they aren’t perceived, and they aren’t rusted metals, and they aren’t chupacabras. They’re dusty messes blowing their way toward us.

Um.

So Dad turns on the local CBS affiliate to learn about the impending threat. And they’re pretty mellow about it. So Dad turns on the local FOX affiliate, and naturally, they’ve turned the threat level all they way up to 11, #amirite?

One of the FOX experts states that “it looks like Nuclear Winter is coming” … now let’s be honest, how many of us have sat on the sidelines and watched as a gentle Nuclear Winter blows in?

Dad calls Mom … Mom says “I can see it!”

Now the race is on … will Mom make it home safely? I crossed my toes (#itsasomewhatuncomfortablefeeling) and hoped for the best.

I could sense that Mom was getting close to being in the hood. Hopefully the dust didn’t get under the hood!

That’s tumbleweed blowing by, in case you were wondering!

I could hear Mom coming home through the through blow of the haboob.

She turned the corner and headed for the driveway.

Still, I didn’t trust that Mom would make it on her own. I told Dad, “Why not videotape her return, to prove that she makes it safely?” So he did just that … and Mom arrived as the storm peaked (visit the website to see it if the video doesn’t show up via email).

We watched as the storm matured …

… and then died as the sun set.

It almost seems like this stuff is gonna happen daily in the summer …

Hello, it’s me!!

At first I was terrified by the thought of Monsoon Season. And who could blame me? Sunday night, the phone starts blaring something about a dust storm.

I mean, anytime you get an alert on your phone requesting that you “Stay Alive” you have to at least be a little bit concerned, #amirite?

Turns out the dust storm was 60 miles south of us.

I have bigger concerns. See if you can find the hidden threat in this image …

We have big news … Mom and Dad ordered a Rebuilt Golf Cart!! Some dude tears down a used vehicle to the chassis, and then rebuilds it up from there. It should be here in early August. Until then, we have a loaner cart that I’m dashing all over the neighborhood in. Though as you can see, I’m not thrilled with 18mph top-speed cruising rates.

With the cart, I am offered additional opportunities to assess threats … this threat is perceived, for instance.

But this threat … this threat may be real, and may include another dust storm.

I guess the moral of the story is this … stay vigilant!

Hello! It’s me.

He arrived, proclaiming … “I HAVE YOUR STUFF!”

Where are my toys? WHERE ARE MY TOYS?

I don’t see my toys. I DON’T SEE MY TOYS!

Mom says my toys are in boxes … somewhere. I retreat, dismayed.

And then, just when all hope seemed to be lost … I am told that box #83 possessed my toys!

I lose patience … WHERE ARE THEY? They should be here by now, #amirite?

And then … ahhhhhhh … toys!

There’s no better way to spend a 114 degree day than with toys … and a hundred nearly emptied boxes.