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Some little birds have floated into the house to let me know that on some computers (like any computer that looks at this here internet on a pc using Internet Explorer – which is maybe a bunch more computers than you can shake a stick at) – are getting a ton of white space up there – right above this post (at least for right now – since this should be the topmost post) . . . Well – I don’t want all of that space – and so come hook or crook – rain or shine – I will figure out how to get rid of that there white space.

And that is all that I have got for this second . . .

Well . . . I would wager a bet that you probably don’t know anywhere near enough about Gubstuff . . . so here is a quick quick tip-off to get you more into the “I know plenty about Gubstuff” mode.

Gubstuff is great stuff that is made by my great pal Angela. She makes bags and pillows and purses and art and stuff – and to the best of my knowledge – all of it is great. She just got a new website – so you should 100% be clicking your way over there to see what is up in the world so that the next time somebody stops you on the street and asks what you know about Gubstuff . . . you can quickly answer back something to the effect of “Plenty more than you buster . . . now why don’t you make like a tree and leaf . . . you’re blocking my sun . . . so scoot already!” – or something like that . . . go go look look.

The other night (really pretty much every night – but this one night in particular) I was sooooooooooo so so so so tired . . . and so after letting the dog out and then back in and dealing with the feeding of the cats – I crawled – or maybe slunk – but definitely didn’t scamper into bed.

Clink to sleep I went. [The “clink” coming from a penny falling out of my change cup – which I usually clutch close to my heart before I go to bed each night . . . and yes – of course I have a “change cup” – who are you to judge anyway?! And besides . . . what do you keep your pennies in anyway??]

So – the dog was to the right of me – which is fine because he sleeps the good sleep of a feather in the snow. And just at that moment – that integral moment where you are on the precipice of a wonderful night of sleep – where your breathing has leveled out and the busy thoughts of the day have slipped to the back of the back(er)most parts of your brain . . . My cat – Spot Elliot lunges into bed (for the uninitiated – he is a 22 pound cat – a big big large cat that makes the entire bed move when he hops in) – but you get used to that – the whole seismic activity minor earthquake thing . . . then he sits there (kind of like a bear – sitting there on his butt) and makes sure that I am indeed about to fall asleep – and then it starts . . . the thing that I will never be able to get used to . . .

Lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – taking a bath – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – making the grossest of noises – lick – lick – lick – lick – am I driving you crazy yet? – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – the whole stupid bed is moving because I am so fat – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick. And then I snapped – and the cat was unceremoniously booted from the bed.

Oh – but of course it doesn’t quite end there – because two more times he jumped back into bed to resume the bath . . . only to find himself on the floor after a quick firm push from my foot. And jeez-o-peet – don’t let me leave out the cute fact that every time that the cat was kicked out of bed – the dog would freak out and jump over me to see where Elliot was running off to . . . utter bedlam . . . utter lack of sleep bedlam . . .

Seriously – I am going to post about this later . . . figured the picture would be a good tease . . . and I am nothing if not a tease . . .

Okay – okay – now the story that I was talking about – the story that the picture is about – and just a quick quick bit of what led up to 2:30 am Tuesday night . . .

I drove one thousand nine hundred and fifty three miles (1,953) over the course of about ninety six hours (96). The driving ate up about forty five (45) of the hours that I was gone – and has left me with a bleary attitude and nursing a sore wing. (yeah – I may have – might have – it is possibly possible that I just referred to my arm as a “wing” – no looking back . . .)

Where was I going? Why would I drive so far? Well that’s all a bit beside the point – just trust me – I drove a whole bunch – and went to some places – saw some people and did some stuff. If I get the notion – and some time – I will sift through my brain and shake some of the stories of the in-between out onto the table for you to see . . . but I can’t promise anything – I got really bleary . . .

So – after driving seventeen hours (17), I went to the post office to check my p.o. box – and then to the bank to deposit a check – and then just as I was passing chik-fil-a, I noticed to police officers having one of those chats – where the cars are facing in opposite directions – so that they can give a firm hand shake and proper see you later when the conversation is done and they scoot about their merry way.

As soon as I went by – zoomp – one of the cars was right behind me. You know that magical thing that police seem to do where they seem to actually be driving on top of your car right before they either swoop around you or click the lights on?! Well that was the game that he decided to play – I was too tired to even get the ice in the pit of my stomach – just maintaining my speed and not doing anything too erratic . . . almost home – almost home – and then the lights came on.

Evidently he was a mounty (according to the picture) – and so he (evidently) got off of his horse and sauntered up to my window – with the flashlight of god in my eyes (it was so so so bright – and I was so so so tired). I then got excited that I was going to get to talk to somebody – and so I pulled the “What seems to be the problem officer?!” line out of whatever cliche movie that it is from – and as he is checking out my ID and saying something about my tail light being out, I started yammering on about how I had been driving for seventeen hours (17). We had a little chit-chat about the drive and then he apologized for holding me up and said “Now you go and get some sleep . . .”

His horse – who I decided to name “Champ” – because he seemed so much like a “Champ” whinnied as he stood on his back legs and for just a second they were captured perfectly in the moonlight . . . man I wish that I had my camera ready – and that it wasn’t possibly illegal to photograph police officers as they charge out into the night . . .

Then I slunk home to catch some “z’s” – as the kids are calling them these days (and by “them” I probably mean sleep(s)?!) – and to dream of “Champ” the mighty police horse pulling my lifeless body from the icy waters of the Hudson . . . what a night of sleep it was!

Some of the above may/may not have happened . . . I will say it again – and I stand beside my initial point . . . I was a bit bleary . . .

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