Volume 13 - Day 117/248, 2021 - Tuesday

Immediately preceding this journal entry, I was out in the garage, IN THE TRASH CAN, with nothing more than my ankles and feet visible to a variety of passersby. In my fury to clean the garage and divest myself of things that had previously been moved at least a dozen times, I threw away a little 'caster,' you know, the rolly things on the bottoms of chairs and other devices. It was just laying there on the floor ot the garage, and I could not imagine what it could have possibly been from, so I tossed it. Today, when I was putting out dry food for the girls, the sealed food bucket wobbled, and I discovered there were only three casters on the bottom, not four. A blinding light went off in my little pea-brain, and I decided I would recover it when I returned this evening. I removed everything from the trash can (well, not EVERYTHING), but there was no sign of the caster. I then emptied everything again, and still no luck. I then discovered that I did not actually toss it, and I found it on one of the shelves in the garage. Mission accomplished, and I did wash my hands after I came back inside the house. In other news, I discovered another perk of being old; I got a 'Senior Resident All Water Fishing License Package' this afternoon, in anticipation of my trip to South Padre Island this coming weekend. I also got a shirt and a hat, and I will try my best not to return like a crispy slab of bacon. The jury is still out on that one... As for the Pink Full Moon, I actually remained conscious last night, trying to get a glimpse, but it was all to no avail...