My Cousin Elmo says, “Due to inflation, the light at the end of the tunnel has been turned off.”

It is amazing what sleep can do for the brain and a person’s attitude. While I’ll admit that I am too lazy to get up out of my comfy studio chair to walk across the hall to get another cup of coffee, at least I can laugh at my silliness this morning.

Sleep came quickly last night after I laid down. I recall waking once because the wind slammed against the house and rattled the man-gate outside my bedroom window.

But I fell back into a solid slumber once I recognized the sound.

Anyway, I needed to prep my first ‘stop set’ for this morning’s radio show. A stop set is that point where the announcer speaks on air.

Thank goodness it’s Friday!

So tired, I completely blanked out what day and date today was. That is not a good thing for a person trying to live a scheduled lifestyle because of their many facets of employment.

I had to check three sources before I was sure it was Thursday, the 21st. Then I had to go back and double-check another two or three times to be sure I had my first belief correct.

Ah-ha! You are as confused now as I was this morning. I finally got smart, wrote it down, and typed the piece of paper onto the computer screen.

I’m going to bed…early!

Oy Vey! As if I needed one more thing added to my plate.

Yesterday afternoon, I drove up to Virginia City because I had some work to finish at the print shop. I didn’t notice anything wrong with my truck other than the “check engine” light lit up again.

By the time I completed my air shift the following morning, I had gone over a hundred miles when the thing nearly refused to move. I nursed it to the repair shop.

So, I’m without a vehicle, and my wife and I will be sharing her car for the foreseeable future. She’s less than thrilled.

With my new schedule taking full effect, I have found myself on the short end of the blogging spectrum. It is here where micro-blogging comes in — if I can remember it.

Having an air shift in the smaller hours of the morning has left me very tired. I knew it would affect me, but I had no idea how fatiguing it could be.

Slowly, I will get used to it, but because of my age, it will be so much slower than it once was. I need to practice, HA!

Does anyone practice getting up at three or four in the morning? I didn’t think so.

It’s the day after Easter, and I’m finally finding time to sit down and chat with Buddy, our dog. He has been eager to tell me something since yesterday morning.

“So what’s going on?” I ask him as he curled up next to me on the bed.

“I talked to the Easter Bunny yesterday as he used our backyard as a shortcut to the neighbors house.”

“How exciting for you.”

“Yeah, first time I ever seen him, and I had to ask what he was carrying.”

“What was he carrying?”

“A big basket of colored eggs?”

“Did you ask him for one?”

“Yeah, but he said I couldn’t have any because they were for the kids.”

“I see.”

“I asked him where the eggs came from, and he said he doesn’t know.”

“I’ve always wondered about that myself.”

“I also asked why he delivers them.”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t know that either.”

“That’s weird.”

“Not really.

“Why’s that?”

“Like you always say, most famous people don’t know all that much. I think it’s the same for famous animals. And he doesn’t speak German Shorthair very well either.”

My dear friend, Alexia Sober ascribes to the saying, “You have one mouth but two ears.” So do I, but I call it the “Louis L’Amour method.”

In his autobiography, L’Amour said he’d often go into a saloon or cafe and simply sit and listen to the “old timers” as they told their life histories. Though I am known for talking more than I ought to, I have learned to sit quietly and absorb the tales being told.

That’s what I was doing at the Delta Saloon one late afternoon and where I heard this piece of “forgotten” history.

The east side of the Singatse Ranch became a hive of activity following the discovery of copper in 1883. The claim became the Bluestone Mine, one of the oldest mineral patents in the U.S.

The blue rock from the mine became a component of the amalgamation process in extracting silver on the Comstock. The Mason Valley-Yerington Mining District formed shortly afterward.

He appeared in Lyon County at the end of the War to End All Wars. The caretaker of the mine, he was often in the valley helping on the ranches.

No one knew his name, so they called him “The Duke of the Bluestone.”

He was an old gentleman, unkempt and dirty, except for his hands which were always spotless. His hair was filthy and matted, and he swore not to cut it until the Bluestone opened up again. And every once in a while, the townspeople of Yerington would catch him and crop his hair.

Not much for socializing, he remained a mysterious personality.

Some believed “The Duke” escaped from Russia following the assassination of Tzar Nicholas. Others thought he had been a Russian ship captain and that this is how he had come to this country. And most believed that “The Duke” had a large sum of money buried near his hovel, a wooden shack near the Bluestone Mine.

After being in the hospital, “The Duke” died.

Shortly afterward, a group of high school students went to the Bluestone to look for his treasure. According to some, they found thousands of dollars. Others went up to the shack to search, tearing the building asunder.

Soon there was nothing left to remind people that “The Duke” had ever been alive.

There must have been something in the air as I lost my coffee cup full of coffee only to find it a short time later in my left hand.

About an hour and a half later, a neighbor knocked at the front door. She had in her hands a flier of her Calico cat named Stanley.

It had been three days since she’d last seen her feline, and she wanted to know if I’d accompany her on a trek around the neighborhood to hand out the homemade lost and found posters. I harnessed Buddy, and we spent the next hour knocking at doors and slipping fliers under windshield wipers.

Finally, out of fliers, we turned back to her home, where she offered me a cup of coffee. I rarely turn down coffee.

Once inside, I unhitched Buddy so he could roam around as she and I chatted about the missing Stanley.

Without warning, Buddy came flying from one of the back rooms, tail tucked and ears pinned back. Behind him was a mass of black, orange, and white, hissing.

Buddy found Stanley, and Stanley don’t like dogs.

My Cousin Elmo says, “Due to inflation and the rising cost of food, the five-second rule has been extended to ten.”

My Cousin Elmos says, “It’s a shame that my body cracks like a glow stick but refuses to shine.”