The weekend warble

Full ballparks are making me smile immensely.

There is nothing better than hearing the chirping of a capacity crowd while watching a game on television.

If you can be at a ballpark full of spectators, that’s not too bad, either.

But, when it’s 90 plus degrees outside, the best seat in the house is whatever furniture you have in your living room or television room.

We’re driven to remain indoors when it’s either hot outside or very cold.

I don’t wholly remain indoors anymore because that’s basically what we all did during Covid’s peak. I know it’s not over ’til it’s over, but when I see a jampacked Wrigley Field crowd as the Cubs take on the Cardinals, I can’t help but feel it’s over.

Now we look forward to booster shots.

I don’t know how I feel about that and will figure out if I’ll let myself get boosted when the time comes. I can’t worry about much more than the next day. That’s what a pandemic does to your mindset.

It’s funky logic, but based on the first two shots I received, I’m not concerned if a third or fourth, or fifth shot is needed.

Again, as more information comes about, getting a booster shoot (if recommended) will be something I’ll most likely do.

It’s crazy, but there have always been things available to the general public that people know are bad for you.

White Castle hamburgers come to mind.

I love them.

And I know they’re not exactly good for you.

But when taken in small doses occasionally, I think I’m no worse for the wear.

I prefer original, too, without cheese, unless I’m trying to get filled up faster.

I used to say worrying about what you eat, or are about to eat, instead of just buying food that’s not completely bad for you (read overly processed) and eating it, makes your body stressed.

That’s because worrying causes stress.

That’s why the saying ‘no worries’ has been famous for many decades now.

Don’t worry, be in between sad and happy as much as of the time as you can.

Things tend to be less harmful and less ecstatic when you’re not working at the end of either extreme.

The cicadathon is almost over.

The volume is dimming as we enter the last three weeks or so of their cycle.

It’ll be bittersweet having them go just about as fast as they arrived–if you feel 17 years and six weeks are similar periods, that is.

I’ll miss the many refrains of Ewww that come about when listening to conversations, including them.

They sometimes made sounds that felt angry to me.

Like they were mad that they were going away soon.

Most of the time, though, I think they are content, taking one day at a time.

Kind of like how you should, too.