Archive for 2012

Bill Scares Snake In His Underpants

Wednesday, August 1st, 2012

“Why are you out here in your underpants?” Karl wants to know

Here’s Bill in his baggy white underpants, barefoot with a dead tree branch in his hand. It’s dark. It’s late. He and I are outside hunting for a snake. I have a flashlight the size of a pencil in my hand.

I’d gone looking for my big, red maine coon cat in his large, covered cat yard. Karl hadn’t made his usual squeaking noises when I opened his wire door and called for him to come with me into the house.

All I have is that tiny flashlight in the late dark and I can’t find Karl. I thrash through the tall zinnias and point the light into the spiky, yellow wild primroses. Nope. Not here. I trip a bit and grab the side of the wire yard just in time. Then I look under Karl’s favorite bush. Nope.

“Here Kitty, Kitty Karl…here Kitty!”

Ahhh, here he is crouched next to the wire, staring intently at something. I’m saying, “…Hey, Karl…what’s up?”

Well, what’s up is a snake! Curled up! On the other side of the wire.

Oh boy. I look but I can’t see if it’s a small rattler or a friendly snake.

…And, I’m worried because every night Karl insists he has to spend all night out here.

A few days ago, I saw coyote tracks in the soft dirt beside the yard. And, now a snake. The yard is covered on top with chicken wire but with enough patience something could dig under the yard wire. Or slide through the wire holes.

I have to get Bill. He’s in his studio and probably asleep, but this is serious. (more…)

Sudden Luck… And The Rat Shit Morning

Tuesday, July 24th, 2012

The End Of The 3rd St Grill!!

My brother Jim has a germ phobia. He’s reminding me how when he was a teenager he was at his friend Roger’s house. Roger’s dad, an old cowboy, was fixing breakfast for the kids.

“He was whipping up pancake batter, ” Jim tells me, “in a great big bowl. He’d tossed in the flour and eggs and oil and I was watching him with that big blue bowl under his arm, slapping the hell out of that batter with a wooden spoon.

“Roger and I were really hungry. And, you remember Mr. Payne, he was a Real Cowboy and he was tough. He was so tough he scared me.”

Jim and I are sitting at my kitchen counter and at this point in the story he puts his head on the granite. He almost sounds like he’s going to cry.

I know the story and I know he might cry for sure.

Every once in awhile Jim trots out this tale of The Terrible Morning With Mr. Payne, The Cowboy. He has never gotten over it.

“So,” Jim continues, ” he plunks the bowl down on the table where Roger and I are sitting and says, “Looks good boys! How many do you want Jim? How ’bout I make you twelve of these here flapjacks.”

“Well, ‘great,’ I say, ‘I’m starving.’

“Then I take a look into the bowl.”

Jim’s voice rises. “I see lots of little black specks. Wow, what is that? Pepper. I lean over and look closer. Shit! (more…)

The Other Lexi

Wednesday, July 18th, 2012

“The New Lexi”

My 9 year old granddaughter Lexi, doesn’t want to spend time with me during the school holiday because:

Her Reasons

1. I don’t wear a nightgown to bed.
(Since she was two years old she has always said she hates to sleep next to my ‘dirty bum’.)

2. I keep the bedroom too dark

3. I keep the bedroom window open so we hear the coyotes in the night

4. I eat meat

5. And because she HATES to go to the farm stand. The chickens are too loud.

Lexi does come to visit even though and because:

1. I don’t wear a nightgown to bed.

I wear a night gown to bed

2. I keep the bedroom too dark.

Lexi takes a flashlight to bed

3. I keep the window open so we hear the coyotes in the night.

I convince Lexi that the coyotes are wild dogs celebrating their freedom

4. I eat meat.

I eat meat

5. And because she HATES to go to the farm stand. The chickens are too loud.

We don’t go to the farm stand  (more…)


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