Satiday yawning.....

Tossed ’n turned all nite…up ’n down ’n lost my fight with the covers AND the pillows, tried to find my slippers in the dark ’n stepped on the olde poodle dog who wuz sleeping on them…finally drifted off early this morn only t’be awakened by the olde poodle dog ‘cuz he wanted a drink ’n tour of the south forty….it wuz raining, a soft, gentle rain that I tho’t felt pretty good but the olde poodle dog evidently decided that he didn’t like it so back in the house ’n back to bed only to rise again c’uz an old man’s prostate refuses t’be ignored….AND THAT’S WHEN I FIND THAT THE OLDE POODLE DOG FIGGERED OUT WHAT INDOOR TOILETS ARE REALLY FOR! Ah well,….time flies whether you have fun or not….Old name out’a the past surfaced t’day…Frank Bryson….Frank’s older’n me (his sister, Julia, is younger) altho I haven’t got a clue as to why that should make a difference or why it even popped into my head for that matter….anyhow, the last time I saw Frank, he wuz a slender, studious, red on the head young man with a reputation for being exceptionally brainy…he seemed to vanish immediately after he graduated from good ole Mckell ’n this is the first time I’ve heard of him since…Okay! I know…you don’t have to tell me…ever’one else in the whole durn world knew where he wuz ’n what he wuz doing except me…prob’ly c’uz I’ve always been too self-centered for my own good….I don’t think I ever tho’t of m’self as being self-centered, I just didn't seem to worry much about what the rest of the world wuz doing…I think that ever’one believes that the world spins around their own self ’n no one else…at least, when they’re young…when you arrive at your dotage, you’ll realize the incomprehensible ignorance of your own youth but you’ll just have to live with it….So the dogs pestered me ’til I walked up the street with ‘em…they wanted to go to the park but, for some reason, even tho’ it’s a perfectly nice day t’day, I feel incredibly weary ’n lethargic…hope I c’n get over it before it’s time for my afternoon nap…..

Birthday boyo.....

The party’s over, it’s time to call it a day…. Ever’one went home with a care package ’n peace descends once again upon the Manor House…. Brother William did a truly reasonable facsimile of Mom’s Chocklit Cake ’n I have leftovers, thank the good Lord…I loved my Mother’s chocolate cake, it being every bit as addictive as crack cocaine…. Anyway, ever’one except son Dave was here (sorry about that, Dave ’n Kris)… A good time was had by all (or so they claimed)…they were spread throughout the manor house, snacking on snacks (not much else y’can do with snacks)…beer ’n soda ’n champagne for toasts ’n a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday to me… Just want to say Thanks again for all the well wishes from family ’n friends and, God willing ’n the creek don’t rise, we c’n do it all over again next year…..

Road Trip...

Beautiful day t’day for a trip to Santa Rosa, leaving the heat ’n the smoke from all the fires behind for awhile….zipped thru the morning traffic without a fault or flaw, maintaining that old right foot cruise control at 70 mph….we slowed a bit on the west side of Fairfield debating American Canyon or the almost finished Jameson Canyon road…in the end, we decided Jameson Canyon just becuz we hadn’t been that way for some time ’n wanted to see what progress had been made…. In the olden days (last year) the drive thru Jameson took about 20 or 25 minutes, depending on conditions (Our last trip, at the beginning of construction took over an hour)…Didn’t time it on the way down but it wuz fast…timed it on the way back, from the turn by N. Kelly Rd to the freeway at Red Top took ever’ bit of SIX MINUTES…. In contrast, had we gone by American Canyon, estimated time wud’a been 20 to 30 minutes… Anyhow, it’s been a longish day ’n I s’peck it’s an early nite for she who must be obeyed ’n m’self….. \

September song.....

“It’s a long, long time from May to December ’n the days grow short when you reach September….”

Some days it’s easy to say a bunch of nuthin’…sort’a let my fingers do the talking…surprise m’self sometimes with what comes out….for example, yesti’day afternoon whilst we wuz on our 2nd S&P tour of the day, we passed what my neighbor calls a ‘flowr’ing quince’….ain’t nuthin’ but a crabapple bush that never has apples on it….but, right in the middle of the bush, wuz a big ol crabapple which I just had to pick…’n since I didn’t have anyone to throw it at, I stuck it in my pocket ’n brought it home…can’t eat it ’n it’s bound to end up in the garbage pretty soon but in the meantime, it’s sitting on the file cabinet next to the computer…

When I wuz a boy going to school at South Portsmouth, we use’ta have crabapple fights in what passed for a school playground back then…

Last time I looked, it wuz a rather small, not quite rectangular field in the hollow behind the school house but in my mem’ry, it wuz a whole lot bigger….we did a lot more than throw crabapples at each other, we use’ta play football…well, our form of football anyways, more like Rugby, I guess, than actual football…we kind’a lacked most of the necessary equipment for what most people here think of as football…well, except for the football itself…we had a reg’lar football…I don’t recall exactly how we chose up sides but they wuz almost always pretty near equal ’n we fought up ’n down the field ’til our lunchtime wuz over…I don’t remember anyone getting seriously hurt in our rough ’n tumble game…well, except for Roger Kilgore (Happy Birthday to you Roger)…he wuz at the bottom of the pile one day ’n came out with a broke leg…but  nobody got killed which sometimes happens t’day even tho’ kids t’day got all sorts of equpment, helmets ’n pads ’n knee pants ’n the whole nine yards but it seems t’be a much more dangerous game t’day with little kids risking life ’n limb ’n parents calling for an outright ban on football ’n other such barbaric games that little boys so dote on…..

I don’t really believe that children t’day are all that much different that what we were back in that long ago era that pre-dated video ’n computers ’n cell phones but, that could be, in my dotage, just living in an old man’s  reverie…..