Sigh.

So many things going on in this crazy world. Elections will thankfully be over tomorrow evening, ensuring a much-needed respite from political ads. I do hope the yard signs come down quickly, too.

Yard signs aren�t terribly welcoming when one is entering a Republican stronghold, such as So-Ill, if one isn�t of that persuasion. They�re not terribly pretty, either, when they contain gross exaggerations, such as threats of imminent doom for hunters should the democratic candidate for governor happen to win. Good heavens, gun control doesn�t mean an end to hunting, it means enforcing laws and establishing sensible gun purchasing regulations, none of which prevent hunting. Yep, that�s right, kids.

As I stumbled down the stairs to go to work this morning, there was a pheasant standing in my yard. Like 10 feet from the bottom of the stairs. He was gorgeous. Ever notice how ill-equipped pheasant are for flight? They�re not exactly sitting ducks, but it takes so much effort to get that big (meaty�can I say meaty and not loose my point?) body off the ground that they�re not going to make any sort of stealthy exit. One has to assume that slowness and noise makes them easy targets. But leave mine alone, please. I have named him Lawrence.

Speaking of pheasant (Ah ha! A transition!), ewenorker and Sparky took me to a lovely bar (or 4) Saturday night. The walls of the one in question were littered with critters. Clearly we know who�s keeping the local taxidermists in business. (Taxidermists never fail to remind me of those excellent and frightening cats in�don�t laugh��Hope Floats.�) I guess I�ve never been big on stuffing wild animals and using them as d�cor, but this was exceptional both in length and decoration. Tiny witches� hats on nearly every duck. Hats and black wigs hair on the deer. Country music (top 40 country, mind you) on the radio. I suppose I should attempt to estimate the scope of the scene. Let�s say 100 ducks on the walls, easy. Then 4 or 5 deer sprinkled throughout. I propose that anything in such numbers would be overkill. (Groan.)

People down that way seem to have more than their fair share of frightening things, not the least of which is this cross. But it�s far from ewenorker�s abode, unlike this one, which I thankfully only saw from afar. What gives?

Lest you think I didn�t appreciate the visit, I declare that my first foray into So-Ill. was quite delightful. A weekend just doesn�t get any better than chatting, drinking and watching �Coal Miner�s Daughter� with good pals, eh?