The Mrs. and I did a funeral ride on Saturday. A gent here died after a car turned left in front of him while he was on his motorcycle. His family is from Pocatello, Idaho, and that's where they wanted him buried. So we escorted him home. About a half-mile worth of bikes in formation from Ogden up to Pocatello, about 150 miles. Formation rides are always a bit interesting, and a half-mile formation at 80 mph is more so. But it was a good experience, and the family was damn near in tears after seeing the escort he had. It was a good thing.
Sunday was work around the house that needed to be done, and hey, I finally had time to do it. Get the swamp cooler up and running. Redo the garden beds, which included pushing them back about six inches. Clean, clean, clean. Cook lunch. More work on the garden. Come inside just as a thunderstorm breaks directly above us, spitting massive rain and tiny hail. I do love the smell of rain after a hot day.
I pretty much avoided the news. Which is probably a good thing. But now it's back to the grindstone, so off we go!
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