Monday, June 23, 2014


She just flew out the door after a quick, "Back soon." Seeing as how I just became the new owner of a fine batch of Georgia peaches, sweet bundles of pure joy, and since I know good and well she'll be at Walgreen's for at least two hours I jumped and whipped out a fresh peach cobbler.

Y'all can wipe the drool and just do without...

I built this beauty in about twenty minutes. Its still in the oven. Didn't use any one recipe so haven't one to post or link. So if you Google someone's 'this is the perfect' scribbling remember to substitute a half cup of cream instead of one cup of whole milk. Cut back on the granulated sugar by a quarter and please, for the love of all things Holy, use a good grade of light brown sugar and real vanilla.

If you tend to throw a scoop of ice cream on the dish...make sure the cream really came from the working end of a cow. The label 'light' is so darn metrosexual. 

Hope she's surprised...




Earlier this evening as I stood in the kitchen I heard a strange sound, steady beat, rhythmic even, and at first had a heck of a time tracing its source. I finally tracked this strangeness to our living room.

We have on the fireplace mantle an old clock, a wedding gift from a relative some thirty odd years ago. Its a Sessions, manufactured early in the twentieth century. Nice old piece, and here's the strange hasn't hit a lick in over thirty years. Hasn't been cleaned nor oiled properly since the day it came into our lives. We'd thought the old girl was just flat-assed broke.

Until late last evening when out of nowhere it began to tick-tock all on its own. 

Yelled for the wife. She freaked, "Why is it working?"

"It's a sign from God."

She didn't like my answer and instead said, "What did you do to it?" I made a few of those spooky noises, then, "Nothing. It's the end times."

She went to bed.

I'm still wide awake. The old clock just chimed 0300. Perhaps I should say a little prayer. Couldn't hurt.

This is indeed spooky stuff.

(Insert Boris Karloff movie soundtrack here.)


Yesterday was her birthday. She's twenty-two. Still cute as a button.

After Sunday services she requested a day in St. Augustine. We arrived and duly paid our ten dollar parking ripoff tax fee and strolled the ancient city.

Since she hadn't eaten all day we hit a local tourist trap for lunch. Took almost three hours...serious here, three hours. Back outside we find severe thunderstorms. Hard rain. Ducked into a store. Rain continues. We wait.

Still, she smiles. Said she was happy. Rain slacks a bit. We hit a coffee shop to wait, and I of course, over indulge with a pecan sticky roll and a mug of java. Outside a lightning strike fries a tourist into ashes. Heavy rain spoils another visitors hundred dollar cigar and the ponies refuse to pull the sunburned down the cobble stoned streets. I just smiled and sipped my coffee.

She took my hand and set a course towards that ten dollar parking spot.

Anyway, it was a nice ride.

I strive to please.


Took me a year but I've finally found the proper cross draw sheath for my favorite knife. A friggin year. The knife was gifted to me by herself upon our last anniversary - a custom hand forged piece and I love it. Anyway, it came with a junky plastic black bit of stuff disguised as a sheath which I promptly discarded.

I like a cross-draw. Wear it slapdap in the middle of my back, right-handed. It too is custom from a nice husband/wife team out of Cajun country. If I had their names (info is at work) I'd give credit. Nice leather, proper fit.

It's the little things,

which create the faintest of smiles.