Hey

Do me a favor and take a moment out of your busy day and visit my nice friend, Vicki.

While you're there please click her follower button. She's a sweet lady, grandmother, and a writer of warmth and kindness and introspection.

I certainly appreciate your efforts, and kindness. If I can ever do you a favor, just yell.

Thank you.

Stephen

Silly Little Thing

I make the walk every Sunday morning. Out the door and down the walkway to the driveway where I find the Sunday morning paper, whereupon I reverse my course. Total time, maybe two minutes. It's my routine and I enjoy it. I dress for the walk, too. Usually I'm dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt, class don't 'ya know.

If the morning is exceptional the time outdoors is delayed with deep breaths of clean air, a long look at the river as bird song and leaf color are cataloged.

Sunday is special, both the day and the almost extinct print edition of our nation's newspapers.

Here's the silly little thing about my Sunday mornings. After the two page comic section has been read I determine if it's worth saving for my Little Bit - today's copy made the grade. It's Super Bowl Sunday and Ground Hog Day. The section is folded, just so, and with ink I inscribe, to her, a note along the top of the page. I write; for Little Bit from Papa. I note the occasion why I've chosen this particular edition of the comics then end with, love.

There isn't a doubt in my mind newspapers, by the time she is an adult, will have long since taken the path of dinosaurs and ten cent loaves of bread. She turns nine this month. I want her to know and experience what she'll have missed. Like this:

I know, silly isn't it. Yet I feel it's the least I can do.

p.s., sorry it won't enlarge, deal with it.


Stephen
 

Oh, Baby

Just for Reverend Paul. He mentioned he's a Denver fan. I replied I'm a Evergreen State Geoduck fan. Here's our mascot.

Stephen

Dragon's Breath

It's prep time.

A gathering of Florida's finest.

Time to wash and dice, chop and mix.

Base preparation.

Silly me...I came close to writing out my forty year old recipe for my World Famous Irish Kickass Salsa. 

Nope, you can't have any...besides, one bite and you'd have breath strong enough to slay dragons.

Sweet Wife dipped her finger in the bowl, took a taste, and fainted.

See, I've done you a favor.

Stephen
 

Stuff

Since it's the super bowl weekend I need to rush out this afternoon and purchase the ingredients for my World Famous Stephens' Irish Kickass Salsa. (Trademarked) It's traditional. I could care less about the football game. The commercials are often funny, sometimes even entertaining. The game for me is just an excuse to make myself sick with chips and salsa.

Prep time is approximately an hour. I only use fresh vegetables with a base of canned tomatoes. The salsa must be allowed to stand overnight in the coolness of the refrigerator. When one dips a chip (I prefer Nacho Cheese.) and it stands without waver the salsa is ready to eat. Children, lipstick women, gays, liberals, the elderly sick, and metrosexuals need not apply. My salsa will kill 'em dead right there....

I'm serious when I say I could give a rat's butt about the football game. However, if firearms were introduced to the game, well, different story. Think about it.

*****

I'm very aware there has been an oversight to respond to a few comments for those post I've written in the past. I will make every effort to correct this lack of my attention to detail. A few months back my mind took a deep dive into a black hole of depression. During this period I set aside all things internet related except for the mundane and that related to my actual business.

Give me time and I'll search and correct this oversight. For a while there I felt like Snoopy without his parachute.

*****

While searching my bookshelves last evening I came across my copy of Angela's Ashes, a first edition, and decided to give it a second read. Two hours into the book I grew a hunger...needed food. The book will do it to you, their hunger triggers a need to feed. If you don't believe me, read the book.

Besides, its a great piece of literature.

*****

Remember Tommy? He came in this morning to remind me he'd be back next Monday for his firearms. While we chatted he noticed an old eastern European military rucksack I've had on a hook on my back door for months. I've a gross of 'em. Use them for packing light articles, junk, stuff, handguns, tools, to the shop. He wants it. Asked if it had a price and I said, just take it. He refused.

Cup of coffee later he turns to me and said, "Hey, Stephen, listen here. 'Member those old pocket knives I mentioned last time I was here?"

"Yep."

"Listen, what if I swap 'ya for them there old pocket knives. I must have a box full in storage."

I told him fine, we'd trade my old rucksack for his pocket knives.

I like Tommy. This could turn into an interesting deal. I hope the box of knives are all branded Old Timer.

Yeah, right.

Stephen

Ugh...

For the last twenty hours or so I've been stationed, on and off, in the head. As a result I've had little sleep. I keep a bottle of Kaopectate tucked under my arm from which I gulp ever so often...water is my friend.

Lost a day at the shop.

Stupid donuts.

Stephen

Settled In

We've settled in for the evening. The fire, on this cold bitter evening, burns bright and she has her back to its warmth. Dinner was fine. My headache has vanished.

Here's a picture I just snapped of her and the prerequisite fire.

Even the cat slumbers.

Have a nice evening.

Stephen