Saturday

To borrow a line from my granddaughter, "Hello, Saturday." Saturday has always been my favorite day of the week. Luckily for me, it has always been a day of no work, a day to do what you want, a fun day.

My fondness for Saturdays began as a little kid growing up in an old farm house in Kansas. My bedroom was on the second story where an east window welcomed the warm rays of the rising sun on chilly mornings. Saturday was laundry day at out house. Our old washing machine was directly below my room and I can still hear the chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug sound as my mom fed load after load of dirty clothes through it. Of course my dad was always up by the time my eyes opened, already tending to the livestock or plowing in the fields. Sometimes I could hear the old Farmall tractor as he headed out, usually with a dog or two behind him, hoping a rabbit would jump up . Why he let me sleep in on Saturdays, I don't know but I didn't question it.

Like most kids, I was in no hurry to get up on Saturday mornings especially as I lay there enjoying that feeling of absolute contentment, listening to that comforting sound of the washer, feeling the sun on my face, all snug in my bed piled high with covers, without a worry in the world.

Have a nice Saturday.

Birthdays and another thought

Yesterday, the Missus and I celebrated her birthday by going out to a steak house and stuffing ourselves. (what, you expected less?) I'm not going to say how old she is but she's older than me. I always had a thing for older women and married one. How much older? A whopping 45 days that's how much. Oh I can hear you snickering but it's all relevant. For instance, 45 days alone on a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic is a long, long time.

I considered having a couple drinks before leaving for the restaurant and avoiding the ridiculous prices those places want for a splash of bourbon, but changed my mind. You see, a few years ago I was driving through the neighborhoods of Sand Springs when something happened that forever altered the way I thought about drinking and driving. For years, I think I secretly reasoned that if I could keep it between the lines and didn't bump into anything, I was okay.

But on a late afternoon in September and driving under the speed limit, I approached an intersection with stop signs for the cross-street traffic. Suddenly, very suddenly, two young boys on bicycles appeared directly in front of me. I jerked the wheel hard left and mashed the brakes with everything I had but there was no way to avoid them. I'll never forget the look on the boy's faces as they went down directly in front of the truck. I didn't feel an impact or hear a thump but my heart was pounding as I jumped out the door. Both boys were already on their feet and checking their bikes for damage. I hadn't hit them. They assured me they were fine. I talked with them awhile longer to make sure and pointed out how they had run straight through a stop sign at the bottom of a hill. About that time, a man who had lived on the corner came out and told me those boy had been doing that everyday after school. He knew it was just a matter of time before something bad happened. The boys dusted themselves off, hopped on their bikes, and rode away.

Badly shaken and with trembling hands, I drove on. But later, going over and over it in my mind, it dawned on my old thick head, how if my reaction time had been a fraction of second slower, such as with a couple beers, those boys might possibly be dead.

Drink and drive? Oh sure, you get away with it all the time. Go to a friends house, have a few, drive home. No big deal. But what if you kill someone because you didn't react in time? Now it is a big deal. But now it's too late. Think about it.

The problem of sending the web address of this blog to friends and relatives continue (yeah, like they really want it). I now find that my problem is not unique. It seems Cox Communications has initiated a new spam filter on incoming AND outgoing mail and if the URL you are trying to send, fits that criteria, you get blocked, spam or no spam. Complaints to Cox have gone nowhere. However, Alert Reader CB, has offered some suggestions that I will look in to.

While on the morning bird feeder duties (more seed, clean bird bath, fresh sugar water for the hummers) I spotted a movement in the grass. It was the cutest little snake you ever saw. He was easy to catch and I marveled at how beautiful his markings were. The pattern on his back suggested King snake but I'm not sure. Naturally, I took it in the house to show the Missus. She was not impressed even when I pointed out how rapidly it was moving its little forked tongue.

Which begs the question, how well can a snake hold its likker?