This, Sign

I stepped from the car to stretch my legs. Sweet Wife had asked me to stop so she could grab a few items on our way home. I was tired of the wait.

Then I noticed this, thing, this sign.

I'm not sure why it bugged me. My first thought was, big deal. Other nations of our world have posted signs in several languages for many years. In truth our country has been a lone holdout. It's only within the last thirty years (other than South Florida) the practice has become commonplace.

Yet, if my grandfather were alive today he'd flip. Yes, big overreaction....still. I hate it.

Talk amongst yourselves.

Stephen

A Tidbit

She's gone. Walked out a few minutes ago for her Sunday service. Quiet now. The rain has been pushed eastward by a westerly cold front. The house, for at least two hours, is all mine.

I've promised to drive her north after her church service. There are flowers to be placed on her father's grave, antique shops to explore, and a seafood lunch. Should be a nice day.

Our drive will take us along the river which gives over to the sea. We'll cross many marshy creeks and tidal flats.

 I like the drive. There are always hawks and eagles to count. Perhaps we'll stop for a bag of boiled peanuts, a cold Coke, if she likes.

After a few minutes at the cemetery we'll have lunch. I shall insist on my side of fried oysters covered in deep red hot sauce. The tangy salty taste should hold me for a few hours. Then, the stroll of shops. She loves to 'antique.' I don't mind as long as the little caves hold a few manly items.

Things that catch and hold my interest are - bits and pieces of war memorabilia, books, old radios, stock certificates, any firearm related pieces, high quality knives, and vintage male clothing (last year I found a great world war two leather jacket), old hand tools, and believe it or not, unique cook books.

Her, all the other stuff.

I spent most of yesterday with my two shortwave radios. Reception (skip) was awful. Cuba, no problem. Europe, not so much. Even with my slinky antenna deployed on my Grundig I felt my time wasted. Sadly when I set out my beautiful Zenith Trans-Oceanic I discovered my thirty-one meter button stuck. Darn near cried.

More on the radios later.

The birds are singing to me. Their music soothes the soul.  Many years ago we both awoke within seconds of each the other and stayed in place within our warm bed. It was a clear cool Sunday morning, much like today, and quiet in the house. The birds, just outside our bedroom window, were clear and loud, their songs almost translucent.

She turns to me and asked, "Isn't it beautiful."

"Yes," I said. "But not uncommon on a Sunday."

She gave me an explain yourself expression. So I said, "It's God's plan.The birds always gather to sing us a beautiful song each and every Sunday morning."

As I've written, my straight face is world renown...

But, you know what.... prove me wrong.

I close to the music of a Mocking Bird, bright and clear; a tidbit of joy.


Later.

Stephen

Rain

Early this morning the alarm screamed at me. I turned and hit the snooze button and waited. I had a tremendous headache and the sound of rain and wind was unmistakeably clear.

On Saturdays I open the shop an hour early which meant I had only minutes to rise and shower and drive the distance. I fought the urge. The headache increased in its intensity.

I've taken the day off. My guilt is heavy.

This is our third day of solid, and I mean, continuous downpours. Some areas of our county have recorded ten inches.

After I climbed from bed I had two text, from my group friends, asking if I felt our Boar's Nest might not be in danger of flood waters. Even my friend, Senior, camped in South Carolina sent concern. I replied, not sure.

If so we'll deal with the problem. Mother nature doesn't ask our permission. 

I shall take the day to relax. There are books to be read, silver to shine, meals to prepare, and a couple of handguns in need of bore wipes, and of course, your blogs that require my attention.

Guess what....I have webbed toes.

Stephen

Just Keep Your Mouth Shut

It's probably the best advice I can give...myself.

Why doesn't this surprise me. Give special attention to the 'call us if you know someone that hates the government' stuff.

How long before they offer a reward for our heads.

Stephen

Bits and Pieces

It's fairly dark outside. Another Nor'easter has slipped into our area with a gentle kiss. Light rain, warm, and sometime today the winds will shift into high gear. Kinda nice.

I've been distracted of late. Books and work have been my constant companions for the last few days. I'm so weary of routine.

Many years ago as I accompanied my wife into a series of antique stores I came upon a shelf of old tube radios and one in particular held my attention. Long story short I swapped a few federal reserve notes and brought it to the shop and placed it for display.

A few weeks ago I took the old girl home. She's a Zenith and came off the line way back in 1951. (Side note...the rain has increased and is pounding the roof like lead shot.) Anyway, the little Zenith plays well.

Like I said, took it home. Then, one evening, I went into the family room and gathered a book from my pile and began to read. Sweet Wife walks in and takes a seat and asked, "Where did you get the new radio?"

"You remember, from that antique store." Then retold the story. She said, "Well, turn it on."

It was as if we'd stepped back into time. A couple, relaxed with an evening filled with soft music.

I must admit it was very pleasant. We've spent the last few nights under the same conditions which often turn into hours of nice conversation. We discuss and solve nick picking problems and relate stories of our childhood or simply place our heads to pillows and listen to the music of old. Often, from outside the window, the owls sing as if a member of the band.

Give it a try...

*****

Last Saturday, after I closed shop, I went home to find Sweet Wife knee deep in sweat, pale and aggravated. She was also in my kitchen....my kitchen. My kitchen had been rearranged.

When I stepped into my kitchen she almost fainted. Quickly, "Honey, please just listen. Don't get mad, please, allow me to explain. You see, I thought the counters were messy and needed to be cleaned and also all those little bottles and things near the range seemed out of place and I also thought all the tools and things in the drawers needed to be organized....." She takes a deep breath, then continues, "And, I didn't think you would mind. Okay?"

The look on her face was all I needed to hold my smart mouth in check. She'd worked desperately hard at this kitchen reorganization and I wasn't about to hurt her feelings over such a simple matter. Later, I secretly replaced a few items, moved this to over there and shifted my assortment of wooden spoons. Otherwise, I let matters rest.

I'm not certain when but sometime that afternoon as I stood before the flame, sauce in pan, she came over and asked, "Well?"

"It's fine. I can live with the change."

She glanced up and the joy on her pretty little face was all I needed, but she did say, "Oh, thank you Lord."

Guess her prayers were answered.

It'll take time but sooner or later I'll get my kitchen back in order...with a subtle touch, of course.

*****

My friend, Duke, just left the shop. He came by a few hours ago and we sat and chatted about this and that and found solutions to most of the world's major problems. We're like that....

He said his tomato plants are almost blue ribbon quality. I can't wait for the harvest. I'm sure he'll share. With his fresh tomatoes, a head of garlic, some rich soft cheese and a good olive oil and salt and pepper with chopped basil and a nice chunk of bread - well let's just say I'll be in heaven.

There's nothing like a good caprese on a hot spring day.

*****

My last customer was driven in by the rain. Yard guy. As we chatted I asked, "What's on your agenda for the rest of the day?"

Him, "I'm gonna spend the day at the gym. Need a good workout." Then, "How about you. You ever work out? You seem all muscled up."

I smiled and said, "Yes, matter of fact I do, several times a day I draw my carry piece and present it to that wall (used my finger to illustrate) and repeat." I furthered explained, "It's a great exercise for muscle memory."

I can keep a wonderful straight face.

He puts on this little strange look and turns and takes in the wall.

"Ugh, yeah, I guess it comes in handy....excuse me."  Walks out.

The rain also gives forth the great unwashed.

Stephen
  
 

So, It's like this..., and Joe.

I walk into the office and flip the switch to this computer and, nada...nothing. It's been a long few days.

Now you know.

I promise I'll be back soon. I've several nice articles at a hard boil and will soon spread them all over this screen.

*****

A big thanks and welcome to my new friend and follower, Joe. I promise, my new friend, to always answer all your comments.

I'm not sure if you write a blog, if so, please let me know and I'd be happy to post a link. Again, thanks and welcome. You are now among friends.

Stephen

The Road Tinkhamtown

It's been many many years since I've read this story by the late Corey Ford. I've found a link and I'd thought I'd share this treasure with you.

Please, enjoy.

I've always found it to be a peaceful read, and I sincerely hope you find it the same.

Stephen