Pink Flamingo's

Here lately, it seems like all of my time has been taken up with doctor visits! Just the usual check ups that they seem to require. Last week when I was waiting my turn to see the doctor, I started looking around the waiting room, man, those people are old I thought, then I remembered the old guy in the mirror looking back at me as I was shaving that morning. It's strange how you don't picture yourself as getting on in age.
I kind of equate going to the doctor about like taking your car in for the check ups in order to keep the car in warranty. The car can be running perfectly, and you can bet your bottom dollar they will find something to repair, about the same with the medical community! I have to give the medical folks credit though for a job well done, otherwise, I'd be pushing up daiseys by now!
On another subject, I had to go and buy another gas can for the mower. I thought I'd  zip into WallyWorld and pick one up. I wanted a steel gas can like I had, but found nothing but plastic cans, no steel. So passing them up, I went to ACE Hardware and the friendly folks explained that steel cans were no longer made for gas! Come to find out some jerk in the UPA thought they were too dangerous for home use and let too many fumes into the atmosphere, so plastic is the relacement with a filler cap that is almost impossable to get to work right. Boy, now that's progress, huh!
It's flower planting time here on the ridge, so made the pilgramage to the nursery with the wife.
Came home with the pick up loaded with annuals to plant in the beds. What is it with old geezers and flowers? Reminds me of a story...My brother in law used to live in a very exclusive neighborhood in Georgia. All kinds of covenants on what you could and couldn't do with your yard. I happened to find a bunch of those God-awful pink flamingos someone was throwing away, and the wheels started turning!!
The next Sunday we were there for a visit, and I covertly placed the pink flamingo's in his flower beds! (sorry Andy, mauve flamingo's)
The next day, I got a rather heated phone call from him. It was a true "gotcha" moment!!! It is  amazing the crap people put in their front yards. I recently drove by a clawfoot bath tub standing on end with a statue of the Virgin Mary enscounced there in! I still don't know what to think about that, is there a message there?

Be Back Soon!

Having some issues with the computer at present. Looks like a trip to the Geek Squad will be in order to get it back on track. It can't make up it's mind on which operating system to use!
I'm still reading your blogs, just takes it forever to work.

Lawn Mower Therapy

We have had so much rain here in middle Tennessee, that the grass is jumping out of the ground!
I am using more gas in the riding mower than the car just trying to keep up with it.
For some folks cutting the grass is a real drudge, just one of those mundane," have to do" jobs around the house. But for me, it's time well spent. I used to joke about it being "lawn mower therapy" time, but the next time you are faced with the chore, see if your mind doesn't drift from one thought to the next!
I have had folks that ride motorcycles tell me the same thing happens to them, in that after a good ride, all of the problems of the world are solved. Well, I've got to tell you the first and only time I was on a motorcycle, I rode it through a huge rose bush trying to get to the street, but I do envy the folks that enjoy a day on the hog. My experience kind of wiped out the "biker" image and used up a full box of Band-Aids.
Flying a plane also has the same cathartic effect. You are so busy trying not to kill yourself that everything else seems to vanish. When you land the thought that "I cheated death one more time" does pop into your head!
I have know several people in the past who have paid big bucks for psychotherapy sessions, when you know, all they needed was a riding mower and a big yard! It works every time!

Telling On Myself

Back in the Dark Ages when I was a junior in high school, I had a car to support like many of my friends, so like many of my friends, a job was needed, any job that would buy gas,  pay for insurance and a set of glass pack mufflers!
I was lucky in that I found a job with the local flower shop delivering flowers after school and on the week ends. The money was good and I got to drive a VW bus which I enjoyed. All was going fine until the owner got the wild idea that the day before Easter, one of the other guys would drive and I would wear a bunny suit to deliver flowers to the door. Despite a lot of protesting and "no way", it came down to "my way, or the highway", so the Saturday before Easter, I put on this pink bunny outfit, complete with big ears and a huge
cotton tail!
All was going fine until the last delivery just before a break for lunch. A big vase of roses. We pulled up in front of the house, which had a fence around the house with a gate to go through to get to the front door.
I got about half way to the front door, when around the corner of the house a big German Shepherd appears! The dog froze in his tracks probably thinking that that was the biggest damn rabbit he had ever seen! I almost made it back to the gate, when he got me. He tore the a$$ completely out of the bunny suit and got a good chunk of mine as well! The roses went everywhere as I made it out of the gate.
On the trip to the emergency room, I had been so preoccupied with trying to stop the bleeding, I had forgotten to take off my big floppy ears and the now bloody bunny suit with the back in shreds.
The E.R. staff was all laughing, and called everyone in to "get a load of this!" Several stitches later, we drove back to the flower shop. Jack, the owner, was upset because the bunny suit had cost him a pretty penny, but was sympathetic for my stitches as well and doubled my pay for the day saying that I had earned it! We never heard about the roses.
So every Easter, I think about that story and feel where the stitches were and smile. My senior year I worked in a Shell gas station, no bunny suit there!

Banjo Pickin

We started out the day with a little sunshine that has faded into an overcast sky. More wind and T-storms for later today. Can you believe we lost a few more shingles in a high windstorm of a few days ago.
Time to call Bubba and his boys back to the house for a few repairs. Dealing with Bubba almost takes the sting out of loosing a few shingles!
Since the weather will keep me inside today, I need to knock the dust off of the banjo, tune it up, and start building my speed up again. My good friend, Dapper Dan, plays a mean guitar and one of these days we will do another session of back porch pickin and yowling. It used to be that after a little liquid refreshment we just sounded better and better as the evening went on! Now, do to health considerations, the liquid refreshment is not allowed, so the dogs howling in the neighborhood will be the best judge of our efforts.
I never really understood what Bluegrass music was about until I did a lot of extensive traveling through out Appalachia. It's the music of the people, telling of hard times, lost loves and just about anything else they wanted to put to music. I always found it interesting that no matter how bad a mountain house may look, the folks living there could always bring out a guitar, banjo or mandolin. The music was that important to them.
 The banjo is an instrument that many people might play, but very few do it well, me included! I found this one years ago in a music store in North Carolina. The fellow that owned the place must have wanted to get rid of it pretty bad and made me a deal I couldn't refuse. So, I'm walking out of the place with an instrument that I have no idea how to play. I guess that's when the Bluegrass saga began.
The news, with regard to the politics of the day,  reminds  me of two kids playing marbles, where at the end of the day, one kid wins most of the marbles, and the next day looses them. The whole thing is turning into a circus, and we are paying for admission.
Well, guess I had better go call Bubba over in Dark Holler about the roof!

Pet Peeve Time

Pet peeve time!
A few days ago I was in line to check out a few grocery's, just items that I had overlooked at Walmart.
In front of me was a lady, very well dressed and coiffed, with a cart full of food. Since I knew it would take a few minutes for her to check out, I was curious as to what kind of food she fed her family. It was all good stuff, not like me with store brands in my cart. When she flipped out her food stamp card, I couldn't believe it! I'm sure my jaw dropped.
She was still loading her food in her car when I went out to the parking lot. Her year old Lexus looked brand new!  I drove home doing the slow burn.
Now, I know there are many folks that need food stamps, and have no problem with that. In the past when I have seen people use them I could picture hungry children at home and have a lot of empathy for those folks.
Then tonight on the news they said that food stamp usage has gained in number by a huge percentage.
Well, dah! Who's minding the store?
Several years back, they had dropped the hammer on these Welfare Queens by making them  re-qualify, but they know the system and how to use it to their advantage, so now they are back in greater numbers as it appears. This gal must have had some connections somewhere, because to qualify for food stamps you have to be dirt poor, among other things.  I guess I shouldn't be too critical, if the big "O" keeps killing our Social Security increases, I might need those stamps myself!

Up We Go.......

The day started out a little cool, but turned into a beauty, clear sky's and plenty of sunshine. A great day for a little day dreaming. I got to thinking about my old flying days, and a few of those "stark terror" moments that I recall. When I was still a student pilot, my instructor (The Crazyman) told me that since I had enough hours logged and had done good on my radio work that I needed to fly into a "controlled airport" in other words, one that had approach control, a tower and ground control, all requiring separate radio frequency's. I was ready for it! I took off  for large airport about 40 miles from us, contacted approach control to let them know of my intentions, so good so far, then with the airport in sight was told to contact the tower. They put me in the pattern for the active runway. No traffic chatter on the radio so I knew this would be easy. Just as I was turning on to short final, the tower comes on the radio  and says that there is a DC 9, right behind me and to "make good time and turn off at the first taxiway" These tower guys don't kid around, so I went to full flaps and crossed the fench at 70 knts, rather than the 55 to 60 knts Cessna recommends. The tires squeeled and smoked as I touched the runway, then I stood on the brakes to slow her down enough to make the first taxiway, as soon as I turned I looked back and the DC 9 landed! Too close for me, because if I had missed that first taxiway, we would have made the nightly news. I was having a Coke in the pilots lounge gathering up the courage to fly out of there and I get a call from the tower. They said that the DC 9 had a sick passenger on board and they had put him right behind me, sorry if they made me a little anxious, but I had done an outstanding job. (Whats a few more grey hairs!) When I got ready to fly back, the tower put me number one for take off, in front of an L1011. Guess they were still feeling a little bad!!
I used to keep a journal about my flying experiences. It was a great hobby, one that was made even better by an understanding wife.