A late, late Father’s Day dinner at one of our favorite Mexican food places.

They are resealing the work parking lot, though I don’t think they’re going to fix the undersized spaces.

Looking up, I spotted a B-17 Super Fortress flying around, a restored World War II bomber that tours the country.

A quiet Father’s Day with one kid out of town, but the Girl Child knows me well.

Eight years ago, we built raised planting beds in the backyard. A few years later, we redid the fence and trucked in 12 tons of gravel. This year, we took the beds out and redistributed the gravel.

Those beds were well into the ground and full of rich, dense soil that had to be moved out.

Ouch.

Early morning visits to the doctors, usually not a good sign.

Two weeks on the road left our yard in … a state. More hayed than mowed. A walk around the neighborhood showed some other scenes.

As I finished haying the yard (14 days on the road, many with rain at home, and it was thick), I spotted this in the Mrs.’ car … a simple plug took care of it, thankfully.