Zingo-Netty

Zingo Netty it’s raining cats and dogs in Florida. The locals call it big rain. The down pour is fast and furious. Drain pipes on the sides of the house empty with the intensity of a water hydrant being flushed. The wet and windy August days are accompanied by lightning and thunder so severe, the clap sounded like a gun shot, and I jumped off the couch.

Our phone has not rung, unless you count nuisance calls. Nobody has anything new to say. How many times can we complain; the Democrats hate Republicans and vice versa, or bemoan fake news?

  I watched a PBS program, Searching for the Truth in the Age of Misinformation. They concluded fake news is real but previously labeled propaganda because a twist is added to convince the audience to adapt a specific view.

Then there is the pandemic. Today’s newspaper included a police report about two eighty-year-old men who got into a physical altercation in the grocery store. Someone was going the wrong way in the aisle. The article didn’t mention social distancing or if face masks were ripped off.

I am taking solace in watching TV, although there is not much to watch. Martha Knows Best is enjoyable. Martha Stewart has an 150 acre farm, with horses, goats, chickens and peacocks. She is missing one of her 17 peacocks and offering a $500 reward to find the bird. Martha is committed to gardening and offers many how to tips. I’m not much of a gardener. The weather is too hot, the deer too numerous, and the soil is sand, all sand. The best I can do is grow celery in water. Once it has roots I will plant in a pot.

. . . .Just saying

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