There Once Was A Little Old Man...

There once was a little old man,
Who was driven around by a little old woman,
In a little old car,
With a handicapped sticker on their tag.

They drove on my curvy back road,
Where the speed limit is 35 m.p.h.
And they drove
Twelve m.p.h.
Not eleven, not thirteen.

All the way to the main road -
Where the speed limit is 45 m.p.h.,
And then they drove
22 m.p.h.
Not 21, not 23.

And I was, and I am, always behind them.

The end

Goo-goo-googly Google

I just googled my name.

I figured since I told thirty people yesterday to do that to get to my blog and books, it wouldn't hurt me to do the same.

Well. It says there are pages and pages, but really after three pages(!), it becomes all sorts of things. Poor Hill Harper gets in my stuff, which I figure means my stuff shows up in his stuff. He's pretty famous as an actor and author too. Who knows? Maybe somebody will buy a book of mine and decide they like it anyway.

I was amazed that you could "rent" one of my books. Is that, like, the library?

There were some reviews on goodreads.com.

I found out you can still buy "Falling" from Barnes and Noble on line.

I read my bio, and I found a site that will do"book signings and speaking engagements for me". They ain't never asked me about it...

But yesterday was fun. Sold a few books and they gave me a lovely pot full of Shasta Daisies.

Sweet.

Good-bye, Old Friend

The year was 1972. I was eighteen years old. I was about to be married, so I was given a household shower.

Good thing, too. An eighteen year old ain't got much to speak of in the way of household items; unless one begs, borrows or steals from their family of origin.

And frankly, my family didn't have much to take.

Anyway, I got lots of nice things, sometimes the same thing two or three times.

I did get lots of pretty sheets and towels.

Today, When I got the towels out of the dryer, I retired the very last of those towels to the ragbag.

Yep. Forty-four years ago. That's a lot of drying off people.

When Husband called it a rag the other day, I figured it was time to say good-bye. (To the towel, not Husband)

I noticed how much smaller it was than our bath towels purchased in more recent years. It had also become very thin and had a hole beginning in the middle of it.

Am I embarrassed that I let a towel get in that kind of shape and still use it?

Nah. I get emotionally attached to the oddest things. I reckon I was a little attached to the last of the young bride's gifts.

Sorta brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?

One Of Those "I Can't Believe It" Days

Yesterday was a long, hard day. Taking Mother to the doctor should have been a deal over by ten a.m.; instead it was over at a little after two p.m. 

My legs and feet did not appreciate all the sitting, and in fact, they are punishing me as we speak. 

That's why I'm typing so fast!

However; a few things of note must be reported.

1. One the way home in NORTH GEORGIA, I saw a dead armadillo on the side of the road. 

I posted the fact on facebook, and several people responded that, they too, had seen dead armadillos. That makes the suspicion arise, as one reader said, "That there must be live ones out there."

2. It came a pretty intense thunderstorm at our house last evening. The brownouts were numerous; in fact, I expected electricity to be gone any  moment. It never happened. What did happen was that after one powerful thunderclap followed by hearing lightning strike, our car horn begin to blow. It blew for over a minute.

I called The Brother of Many Surgeries and asked him if that meant what I thought it meant...that our car had been struck by lightning.

He confirmed my suspicions and opined it could have done nothing to the car or could have melted and destroyed all the electrical work.

He instructed Husband to go out and see if the car would start (well, he said crank, all of us still say crank, even though I doubt any of us have ever had a car that you still had to crank). If it did indeed crank, then proceed to check all the lights, radio, horn, etc. Oh, and before he got in the car to make sure there wasn't melted wires and stuff hanging out from under the dash. 

Husband flatly refused to go. "Why would I do that in the middle of the storm when it may  have melted a car? I don't want to be melted."

So we had to wait out the storm before Husband would check out the car.

 Girly man.

I would have done it myself if I hadn't had more sense.

The good news is our little Cruiser was just fine. I guess she just got sort of a shock and was bleating out her misery.

That's all the news that is the news for now.