Belated... July

Yard art on 41st.

A rat hanging out in the support iron of our stoop. Brent said, "Ask him if he can cook." A while later he rethought that and said, "Stop talking to it. It's vermin." We didn't have rats in Wyoming, save as pets. I thought he was cute. And gutsy.

Already. And it's almost 42,000 now. He'll be paid off in December, the fastest three years of my life.

Brent cycling between Midtown and East Sac.

Mural.

Classic...

... and not so classic.