Things Are Bad, But Not That Bad.

August is my favorite month of the year.

So I make it a point to take long slow walks on August mornings, getting a good long look at what I’ll miss most when it’s Winter.

I promise you that none of these photos were staged. But they do look too perfect to be true, don’t they?

Even the pillows look like props.

Another perfect front porch. Does the family ever come out here and set in the wicker furniture and tell tales about Summers past?

it’s got, for when Ma sets in this here rocker , a handy place to set her Long Island Iced Tea.

Two things I love about this photo:

First of all, is this not an adorable little parcel on the door step? I love brown-paper boxes with collage-like mailing bits arranged like a work of art.

And secondly, who can notbe compelled by the disinterested gaze of the house’s watchcat?

And as I stood there, snapping my photo of this doorstep, I noticed out of my peripheral vision that I had attracted the attention of another member of the household:

Yes, that’s a real cat. I know! Everything in my village is all too twee!

A Wrap around front porch:

I  want to puke from the overdose of perfection:

Yeah. Life isn’t really like this, is it?

BAtthe end of my first August Walk, I came home to find a pretty-near perfect situation going on in my backyard.

This is Blackie and Duds  fretting over Standard and Poor’s downgrading of the United States’ credit rating, so I don’t have to.

In fact, I think I need another long August walk if only to keep my mind off the economic apocalypse.

What are you doing these days to ward off the pointlessness of existence?