New tires, smoking dogs, a woody, and a good reason to wear a brassiere

So, I'm up at the tire store with my neighbor Bjorn (Not His Real Name) because I needed new tires for my truck, and Bjorn's son-in-law Mickey (Not His Real Name either, although when I write my novel, if there is a tire store in it, I am totally going to call the tire store guy Mickey, because it just seems "right") owns the tire store, and I see these big stacks of old tires, which Bjorn's son-in-law has to pay someone to haul away, and I get this vision of our street, which happens to be a beautiful country road, but maybe a tad bit lacking in what you might call "pizzazz," so anyway, I get this vision of our whole road, or at least a mile's worth, lined on either side with used tires, which of course we would plant with cactus and petunias and what not, and I described that to Bjorn, and told him this could be our neighborhood beautification project, and I am pretty sure he thought it was a good idea, because although he didn't say anything, he had this shocked look on his face, the kind you get when you think, "Man, that is a really good idea! I wish I would have thought of that!" So if you have any good ideas for tire plantings, just let me know. I haven't decided about figurines yet, so feel free to weigh in on that, too. By the way, I might as well let you know that Maggie isn't Bjorn's wife's real name either, in case it comes up later.

Little-known fact: In California, even dogs are not allowed to smoke.

If it is snowing or raining or just cold where you live, you might want to skip ahead a little, because I'm about to mention that we are having lots of sunshine and afternoons in the 70s, and it would be downright rude of me to crow about it if you are cold right now. It's the kind of weather that makes you want to take a walk down at the beach, and if you happen to be carrying your spy camera, you can take pictures like this woody wagon with custom stripey seat covers and color-coordinated seat belts, which unfortunately since my spy camera is a little bit funky, you don't get to see the 3 or 4 colors of seat belts, so you will just have to take my word on that.

Now, about the brassiere. If you had asked me yesterday, I might have told you that I couldn't think of even one good reason to wear one. They are itchy and hot, and sometimes a hook opens up and knifes you in the back, and they ride up, and the strap falls down, and, well, just don't get me started. But that was yesterday. Today I was getting my Etsy sales ready to send out, and I was in a hurry (what a surprise) because I meant to send them out yesterday, but I was up at the tire store yesterday, and I still had to sew up the darling linen storage bags to send them in, which meant I had to make some kind of labels, and then I had to print the postage, and one was going to Finland, which is a whole other drama at the post office, and have you ever noticed that everything takes 3-4 times as long to get done when you are in a hurry? and anyway, I got all that done and it was 4:30, which meant I had a half hour to get to the post office, so I grabbed my purse, and my car keys, and a Diet Coke (duh!) and finally the two Priority Mail Flat Rate boxes, which were stacked up, and I only had one free hand so I had to scoop them up and hold them against my body so as not to drop them, and, I swear I am not making this up, I got a nipple stuck between the two boxes.