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Barn on a hill

Barn and silo on a hill

It didn’t look that dark when I took the picture. I thought about brightening the shot with some digital voodoo, but decided that I kinda like the silhouette, so no changes were made. I hope you like it.

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There were a lot of NASCAR driver wannabees on the roads last night when we were heading south out of Lake County. It was probably good that Cindy was driving, because a couple of the drivers really irritated me with their stupidity.

At one point Cindy was driving 70 miles per hour and was in the passing lane because she was coming up on a semi that was going slower than us. When she was about four car lengths from the rear of the truck, a guy in an SUV with Virginia plates came roaring up on our right. If Cindy hadn’t seen him and slowed down he would either have rear-ended the truck or sideswiped us trying to get into the passing lane. As far as I could tell, he never touched his brakes or attempted to slow down.

A few minutes later we saw another SUV following a car in the passing lane from a distance of less than a car length, and there was another car behind him that was almost as close. I was glad that we got off of I65 at the Brookston exit.

Cindy stopped in Brookston to give a friend a helping hand painting her bathroom. I went home. On the road from Brookston to Lafayette I had a driver in still another SUV trying to draft behind me in the Allero. Was there a race televised yesterday?

***

Saturday evening Cindy and I went to the Tick Tock Tavern to eat dinner. One of the specials was deep-fried perch. That was my choice. As I was eating I remembered that my dad would often bring home perch from the tavern in Rolling Prairie for our dinner. He loved perch, and I guess I picked up my love of it from those days. This Friday will be the tenth anniversary of his death. The perch from the tavern is another memory that surfaces every once in a while. At this time of year a lot of them come back.

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