Don't Call Me a Honey

She just left the shop, Cloey. She belongs to a friend and is four years old and cute as a button. I instantly fell in love.

Somewhere during the conversation I called her, Honey.

She turns to me, stomps her little foot and said, "Stop calling me Honey."

We laughed. I knelt before her and took her into my arms, then said, "Okay, Sweetheart. I'll never again call you Honey."

Her, big smile. Then, "Good. I like Sweetheart. You can call me Sweetheart all day long."

I want a little girl. So bad.

Stephen

Yes

I'm still alive and kicking, just busy.

(As example it's taken me two hours, thus far, to reach this point of the post.)

Anyway, here's a book I believe you'll find interesting. This continues the theme of my March 26th post and that of my good friend, Duke. The topic of precious metals.

If, I do not return before the weekend I'd like to wish you a wonderful Easter. Please, take care out there.

Stephen

I Wish

A pox upon Simon Fuller. I hope he develops a rash on his bun, he teeth turn

brown and he develops a lisp.

I hate American Idol.

Stephen

Like a Moth to Flame

I'm drawn to silver. Not only is it a wonderful hedge against inflation, but it feels good. I like its heft. As of late I've adjusted my investment away from pure silver rounds and bars to the currency of Old Mexico. Vintage Mexican coins contain anywhere from ten to ninety percent silver. Always check before you buy.

The beautiful old coin pictured was minted in 1952 and contains (as you can well see) .72 percent silver, or at today's current spot, just over eleven dollars worth of silver. Adjust for Numismatic value and you have a twenty dollar (or more) coin. This coin was minted in Mexico City as indicated by the mark, Mo. Its weight is just over 27 grams. An ounce of silver weighs 31.1 grams.

Here's a link for the silver conversion tables of Mexican silver coins. If you'll scroll down the link you'll also find tables for other countries as well.

As long as silver remains below thirty dollars an ounce I'm a buyer. Trust me, one day you'll wish you had a small leather pouch filled with silver.

Have fun.

Stephen

On This Day

So far, it's been a good day. We've both taken the day off and have explored. She allowed me (yes, allowed, gave her permission) to browse a coin shop, one of the largest gold and silver dealers here in north Florida. I spent a bit.

I was given gifts, after a nice breakfast.

Why, you ask....well, about thirty-five years ago today my mother reached and gave my father a slap to the face. He said, "Ouch. Why'd you hit me?"

She replied, "Because you knocked me up."

He blushed. It was their first time at this baby making business and he wasn't sure of himself.

Then she said, "Now, take me to the hospital." Around noon she gave birth. I came out and said, "It's about time."

The nurse fainted.

(Really, thirty-five...no joke. Okay, maybe a wee bit more but not much.)

Stephen

And, Repeat

Not sure how long I'll be able to write as the storms have returned with a vengeance. The loss of power is very possible.

Sweet Wife left very early for her church services. She tiptoed to my side of the bed and gave me a kiss and then I was alone with the sound of distant thunder; the morning dark and the air heavy with rain. I left my warm bed and quickly stepped outside for the Sunday paper. Isn't it nice to open your home's door and to step back inside to the scent of fresh brewed coffee and the gentle caress of a cat  with a good hour of reading heavy in your hand.

Sunday morning papers and coffee agree with me.

It's heavy now, the thunder. Then the high pitched chest thump crack of lightning. The house silent otherwise. Now, the rain. The gutters spill the excess like walls of pure silver. I wonder, where do the wild critters take shelter. My old cat sleeps peacefully beneath my outstretched legs. She lets forth a soft whine when the thunder rips. The wind chimes dance with glee.

I should make breakfast. Perhaps I'll wait for the return of my wife. She'd like a hot meal too, besides, what art is to be had when one dines alone. 

Again, the far off sound of new storms announce their approach. The thump vibrates the house and gives warning of winds exceeding sixty. Winds with the power to reduce mighty oaks to kindling.

I flipped the screen to Fox and within seconds the signal is lost. Fine, I do prefer the silence. Maybe, just maybe, I'll jump over to Ebay and try a snipe on silver coins. If I'm careful there are bargains and satisfaction to be garnered by my sneaky intrusions. When I win I always express my apologies to the fallen foes. I know, but isn't it just good manners, when you've reached and taken the coin from their purse, to give regrets.

Off topic, sorry.

The rain pounds. I should flank this storm and build yet another fresh pot of coffee, just in case the power fails. Gather a nearby kerosene lamp and place matches alongside. It's dark enough some light might dispel the gloom.

She'll be home soon. My needless worry of her safe arrival is silly. She'll have a four mile journey within the storms clutches, and I will not stand by the garage door in wait. Such might provide an insight into my fear of losing her. I've lost far too much of late. 

Rain, pelts the roof. Its soothing. Perhaps I should read. Yet, here I sit as I tap this mindless ramble of words upon a white screen to the beat of thunder and rain and the odd flash of silver light as my trees dance and sway with the wind. I'm sure if I rose and stepped back outside I'd find the river with whitecaps where even the gulls have sense enough to seek shelter under the boat house.

Isn't it pretty how storms break the monotony of life. How they are able to open those hidden doors of our minds and to lay bare our worst fears and worries. Yet, storms too give us solace. Storms can fortify our will and courage, dispel our weaknesses when our strengths are needed.

I'll place a light in a window. It's dark outside.

(Published without edit. The storm has flickered my power and time isn't on my side.)
 
Stephen

Coffee, with a slice of Thunder

Sorry for my late replies and lack of post. Business has been outstanding this week. Between the shop and SW's therapy and my housework; well, let's just say I've been a busy man.

We have a stormy night. Hard pounding rain, thunder and lightning...nice stuff for a cup of coffee and a slice of pie.

I hope this finds all of you, my friends, well and happy.

Now please excuse me. I believe I'll put my feet to stool and read until I fall asleep to the sweet music of the rain.

BTW, my slice of pie was Lemon Meringue.

Stephen