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Ah cranberries! Life is too short! Soon, I’ll be rollin’ out of here so I butter have fun before it’s gravy time. Eventually, I’ll be nothing but soggy leftovers wattling my way to de-boned. Life isn’t a piece of cake no matter how it’s sliced.  But can I have seconds?

On second thought….

The more years pass, the more I look like a Thanksgiving turkey.

I’ve grown a turkey neck and a nice plump belly along with a nibble, gobble face. Gizzards! Life is moving at break-neck speed. I’m still walkin’, but maybe without my head! (My dad used to talk about seeing chickens and turkeys run around after their heads got chopped off!)

If I’m not gobbling while stuffin’ my face, I’m wobbling on ancient toes—the ones attached to what my wife used to call,’perfect feet.’ Please pass the bunion; I’ll have another: two just isn’t enough.

Ever see a turkey’s knees? Never mind, just look at mine in beach shots for a quick overview. Turkeys like me are essentially bald but they have feathers. Me? I have a feather duster.

Racing to the bathroom is when I strut my stuff.

 

And about that famous roasted turkey smell as it wafts through the house. Here’s the yin-yang of this turkey-talk: if only a whiff of me smelled that good after doing garden work!

Nope, my flowering youth has been turned upside down and slowly roasted in the sun by years looking for scratch.  My young self has been basted and tented; my clock has been cleaned but for a smidgen of a second left before that big timer in the sky goes off. But, is there pie in the sky? Yep, soon I’ll be car-soul-rolled and placed into a container to be stored until moldy.

Wait! I’d like more seasoning! Another sprig of a spring with more summering would do nicely.

Cheers-I hope you had a good one!

Franque23

 

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Can you spare a minute?

This post may have started with the 9:09 PM starting time of the Milwaukee Brewer’s and Dodger’s game on Oct 16th. Why, for the love of anything you pick, would a game start at 9:09? Googling the question reveals that the TV time slot actually starts at 9 PM but announcers (and it’s got to be ads) have stuff to say for, like, 9 minutes. Okay, but 9:09 still seems a bit random to me. Why not have announcers fart around for another 6 minutes to reach that even 9:15 PM time or, better yet, could they just shut the hell up and talk after the 9 PM game starts?

The Babe knew how to ‘time’ his swing…

Little things matter. People, fans, have enough to do work-wise and drinking-wise (This is , after all a Brewer game) to nail a 9:09 time slot. It’s all wrong, but it gets worse. It turn’s out a local High School has lunch scheduled at 12:17 PM and its normal school day ends at 2:37 PM. There’s one for all you driven crazy by parenting driving pick-up moms to focus on. “I pick up the kids at 2:37; at 2:37; at 2:37.” All over town mother’s and dad’s stare into a mirror and repeat this over and over the night before every school day.

Me and my guitar along time ago….

 

When did our ,’Minute Madness,’ start? It vaguely seems correct to think minute madness origins can be found in airplane schedules. They always had weird departure and arrivals times but have you ever seen a plane land or takeoff ,’ON Time,’ no matter what weird time they picked for either event? Me neither. Thing is, this every minute matters approach filtered down into our society like a fungus on tree bark. We’re consumed by bizarre time punctuation. And here we are, a society semi-sprung from parts world-wide where the afternoon breaks for nappy’s, wine or chatter used to be 3-ish or 4-ish to five-ish.

I guarantee Napoleon did not invade Paris at 3:13 PM. No, our paid, fired, hired or hounded by the minute life is not the stuff of history.  I’ve never read that Isaac Newton’s brain-dent from an apple happened precisely at 1:02 PM.  Nope, survivors of the World now gone minute-mad call that an, “aha moment,” and leave it at that. Can we just walk away, call a time-out, and avoid being hit by another apple in time?

Time-out. Now time for this or that, not enough time, time lost, time gained, saved or wasted, time spent, time-in, time forgotten, time can be so many things—that’s the good news. The bad news is time is the task master of us all now-a-days. Worse, time not only exists in our heads, on phones, watches and punch-in clocks at work but it’s especially adorned by Cuckoo clocks, and rightfully so. Never has a true unknown ever ruled over the world like our vague concept of time.

Salvador Dahi painted melting clocks

To be fair, man does have an AC/DC timeline in place… whoops,, I mean a BC/AD time line in place. ( BC=Before Christ and AD=After the Crucifixion)So sure, we know stuff happened before Christ was born and then lots after, but the trouble is when he was born can slide back and forth by ten years, some say twenty, others say up to sixty years or more! I ask you, how much of what we do today can be off by, like, thirty years? ” I build houses and yours will be up sometime within the next thirty years.-That’s a promise!” A man runs to catch his train but he’s two minutes late getting to the station. The train is nowhere in sight so he asks the train station attendant, “Did the train leave?” The Train attendant looks over his records. ” Yep. That train left about a week ago-sorry.”

Time is based on nothing but agreement formed in the backrooms of history. Time truly denotes nothing but has the power of the leash and lash we’ve given to its practice. And wouldn’t you know it, I asked one of our many volunteers at work tonight when she was leaving. “8:12,” was her answer. I stared ahead in disbelief, knowing I’d write this glob and not ask her why, ‘8:12′?

You know, I finished this post in the nick-of-time….whew. That’s called ,’split second timing.’

TV aired a show about people living off the grid and one fellow, a man with an engineering degree who’d been well employed as such, said the greatest thing about his life in the boonies was that he didn’t wear a watch, and he had no idea what day, month or time it was.

My brother, Ed Franquemont,(Harvard Grad.) lived in Peru for ten years with his wife and children. Ed once told me the best thing about living as he did was that there was no specific time, only day and night, and the passing of the sun and moon in between.

once upon a time at our home on Long Island, Ed and I shoveled a lot of snow…

Hurry here; hurry there: this time thing is a madness, and we are all bound to this fever. Sad. Can we have a re-do and think this thing out one more time over a four-ish nappy and bottle of wine? We might find we get less done but we are much happier with all that progress.

Franque23 doesn’t wear a watch , or have a, ‘smart.’ phone. I’m still dancing.

 

 

 

 

 


I’m thinking eating an apple and then a banana could make a person fart? This could be trouble. I’m working the public service desk for the nest 5 hours and I just consumed both! If the answer to my first important question of the day is,’Yes,’ I can only hope some service dogs come in. The good news? I’ll be the first to find out the validity of the premise so I can quickly leave my area in search of a book or some other task.

Question two for today: Has our Supreme Court always been strictly a partisan affair and corrupted by outside interests? I didn’t believe so as a child, but , then again, I also believed in Santa Clause.

My take of the Kavanaugh selection? The vote was 48 NO to 50 YES for confirmation. This means there were 48 correct votes and 50 wrong—that’s about it. For liberals, the future for Supreme Court decisions looks bleak; that the Supreme Court no longer appears to have a swing voter might wreak havoc as decisions come down during the years ahead.

Third question: Why is the suffix, ‘Jerry or Gerry,’ such a derogation? We have the, ‘Jerry’s’ (the German soldiers during world War 11) and, Gerrymandering, (Pretty much the sole corrupt political device that secured the election for many candidates throughout our country.) If something has been Jerry-rigged it won’t work for long—we all know that. But did you know, “Jerry,’ is another name for Chamber Pot!?!?!OH I know, a chamber pot was well received when needed, but it still seems to be a bottom-of-the-barrel sorta thing.

So why does all this matter? My name is Gerald, often turned to, Gerry, by family and friends, so I’m a bit sensitive to having a name associated with, 1)the enemy, 2)corruption, 3)something that won’t be any good or, 4) a piss-pot and worse. This is why being called,’Franque,’ by friends on athletic teams in High School was such a relief!

Fourth question: Since 1996, Medical Cannabis sales tax collection in states that have deemed the drug legal for medical use has totaled over, One billion, two hundred eighty-five thousand dollars. These are the medical sales. Imagine if the illegal usage sales and the tax charged were added to this figure? Why in any Capitalist’s, rational head would it seem good to not legalize Pot?* Folks—we have a bunch of seeds and stems running our DOJ (Department of Justice). (Sessions is a jerk).

Fifth question: Why do so many men seem to hate women? Last time I looked, read or have been told, every man on the planet came by way of a woman. Or, is this alternative fact?

So many men lust for the same-sex they hate, demean, exclude from human rights that our world seems a whirling dervish of septic brain rot. For now, unfortunately, this is the good news. The over-all history of men’s atrocities toward women makes our current societal condemnation of women an improvement of epic proportions. I’ve always had a,’soft-spot,'(meaning I care?) for the plight of the Native American’s and for all indigenous people. Thing is, take any total number of any single group who has been wronged in history and put that figure against the number of over one-half of the world’s population throughout history—that would be female—and imagine which number is larger. See? Women make up the largest group number of people tortured, used, abused, slaughtered and misaligned in the history of Mankind. And I do wonder about the term, ‘Mankind.’ Divide the word, Mankind,(Man—kind) and see that each half of the term is kinda off.

Sixth question: Why are so few patrons coming to the service desk? Hmmm. And no, that was a burp-I swear.

Franque23 loves bananas and apples.

 

*https://www.forbes.com/sites/andrewdepietro/2018/05/04/how-much-money-states-make-cannabis-sales/#28e12c8df181

 


Here’s the deal—no fish is going to an Ivy League school. It doesn’t matter how many fins they have, their underbelly colors don’t count and the tail size has no Equal Opportunity standing.

But, do fish think?

oh my gosh–I’m on a stringer–now what?

Of course not! Fish swim around dropping eggs like flies and eat each other when possible. The don’t really go to school, and how many very tiny books has anyone every found on the bottom of the Ocean, or any lake? I have yet to read any book written by a fish (though I’ve wondered) and they’re all nudist no matter the water temperature which is a bit off.

Still, this odd worm of a thought keeps luring me into its weedy lair, and it’s so bad I hate to ask. Fishermen/women, secure the oars.

Here it is on a swivel hook: why, or better yet, how can lures that once worked so well in the past not work to catch fish worth a flip ten years later? No, listen, this is important. Let’s examine the flat fish lure , all the rage in the 1960’s and thru the 70’s. It was a great, effective lure for catching Northern’s trolling or flipping the shore line for bass.  Now? It’s as if every fish alive has been through the drill and knows to never eat a flatfish lure? Why? How can this Be?  Is it a matter of fashion? But then this would indicate fish have a sense fashion? “Oh my God! I’d never be caught dead biting that lure!” The fish said.

See? What’s the deal? Do fish have amber-alert type memos that last beyond lifetimes? Fish ten generations removed from the flatfish lure eating frenzy still know today not to strike those lures. Let’s face it, it’s been 50 years since Mankind knew cigarettes cause cancer and we still smoke them! Or, how about those hamburgers I still buy from time-to-time in fast-food places? Those are good for me, right?

Yep, whatever the reason, fish seem to communicate important life lessons through generations better than humans. That’s odd; this is what I’m saying.

Okay, forget all the writing, just answer me this: why do fishing lures become less effective over time?

In the meantime, check out this great link of many, many interesting facts…they’ll hook ya.

https://www.thoughtco.com/hilarious-historical-facts-4154997?utm_campaign=wilat&utm_medium=email&utm_source=cn_nl&utm_content=12721193&utm_term=

Cheers…. have fun this wkend

Franque23

I let the big ones go. So, is this how it happens? “Tellin’ ya, I was abducted by a weird bald guy and put on a string , then let go…I got caught on a white plastic worm: don’t go there.”


r there dyslexic birds?

I’ve always been dyslexic, but because I was born one million years ago I only learned of the condition while in Clolege.  So here’s to putting hte cool in shcool. No wonder phonics wasn’t my best sujbect! It was a great relief to get to know how my head worked, and once I did my grade average went from a sub pair 2.0 to a 3.7!  All I had to do then is what I od now—question how I see things, realize when it’s backwards and correct my understanding of whatever it is I’m erading, looking at, or writing. I can convert anything-right or wrong:-)…

I write books that are on Kindle that make editors spell for me….I have to laugh, one editor once asked, ‘Why are yoru sentences always inverted?’

So tell me, how does it change dyslexics to take a light bulb?*

Thing is, really, my body just hasn’t gotten the message about this,’let’s not be so dyslexic,’-ont at all. No, my bodsy’ backwards from ear-hair to navel fuzz. Here I am, clearly a twenty-ish type pushing some other galaxy of age so why the bursitis in the left knee, or slow moving knees, why the left-eye occlusion and the turkey neck that makes me dihe through all of Thanksgiving tmie? Why can I talk to my jingling ellby? And Asthma inhalers are not the death of fresh air they’re meant to be but, man, they take the pharmaceutical’s money right!  See? My entire obdy is going dyslexic on me!

I’m younger than a bean sprout but my face has age wrinkles, weird, my head is missing my hair, astoundingly bizarre, and my get-up-and-go is beating me to some place I can’t seem to find. What I need here is a good walyer. I’ll sue my odby and win whatever’s left of it. Vey, oh, why bother!

still, some people think they are beavers…so maybe i’m koya

Of course, some things still work fine: (I can’t believe you thought that-that’s just wrong, like really young of you.) I mean I can snap my fingers, wait, not so much; at least I can see, sorta, using a different set of glasses for every kind of seeing distance; I can whistle, no, actually I never could; I can do the tiswt, though I’d never try it again; I can talk about times I lived through but never knew; and I’ve got lots of stories to yell cause I’m still dancin’ inside, byba.

this is actually Billy the kid’s friend who shot him..but this has nothing to do with this post… ceehrs**

Yep, I’ve got my head turned around so it works but this body thing is a feakin’ dumb-ass diesitter. Yoga helps, but I’ve lost my mat and I can’t find the floor. Bending over to see things upside down seems all too familiar to me while breathing heavy while working out means some of that god hair I find under the couch is actually going into me instead of under the conch. I know it’s good to rush blood to my head while bending over but does it ever leaf my skull? No, this entire upside down workout cesspro may be why my ears and head aer twice the size they were ounce, gone lgoa.

Let’s ace ti: I don’t know my bowel from my elbow, but is there really umch of a difference?

the Cliffs of Moher never shave…

When you get right up on it, being dyslexic isn’t much the same as anything that’s so different. So hwy lla teh kalt about it…?

It’s odd , but spell check just isn’t ehlping.

Franque32

  • Slopped from aonther tighs.
  • **for some other glob.

*** “Body Language worth noting” (Translation)

 

 


(Click on the pic for a better view.)

Neither of me is crazy–just pointing to the obvious.

Thing is, I love to do yard work. I hated to do it, maybe, when Dad asked me to but that work struck a nerve in me and it’s never stopped tingling.

It’s the little things that get me. Like today, seeing a random bird food seed spring up six feet tall with sunflowers next to the invasive Lantana all backed by a red crape myrtle now coming to bloom just spins my wheels.

The blue plumbago never fails to excite and it’s a good choice for Florida gardeners who don’t want to do much care for their planting… even a black thumb can grow this plant but don’t bring the cuttings inside unless you feel like picking up a zillion blooms off your floor.

I went to a movie with a date but ate it before the flick started…

Okay, I’m in love with a shrimp plant. I know, I know. How could this happen? Me, your normal run-of-the-looney-bin-guy and the next thing you know, I love a shrimp plant. This one’s tied up so it doesn’t sprawl into our front door walkway…thing is, this plant attracts all kinds of humming birds-so yeah, gotta love it. I missed the shot of one bird today-sorry.

Why do fries come in three sizes if size doesn’t matter?

Squash flowers have the nicest way of saying hello in the morning…I’m going to follow their lead and practice this on the next  few victims, err, people I meet.

Curb appeal could be spruced up a bit…it’s time to trim those box woods plants. As it turned today, I spent 6 hours trimming other plants and clearing fence lines. The box woods have to wait.

I’m not sure you can see this, but those are 8 foot high 1 by 2’s the tomatoes are towering over….

Nestled around the garden are the first few  butternut squash I’ve ever grown…Can you find it?

I’m thinking Monica milked the Clinton story for all it’s worth.

Moving on, I bought an Elantra this year and so far I’m extremely happy with this car…three drive gears give power, economy or normal driving options; the sun roof is a blast and the ride super smooth. Mileage so far is 31 MPG at an average speed of 26 MPH around town…but more, our Mulberry tree formed a beautiful arch for me to park under this year.

okay, Shadow, we’ll go out back….

The  green algae took my wallet for a ride this year with all this rain, but things are settling down after many hours of work almost daily..

A resistance sign to trickle down economics: Don’t Pee on Me

I saved over 40 two-year old pineapples from the cold this past winter and wondered what would happen… Well this happened… I’ve bunches of hand size pineapples….:-(

If I have three cookies and eat four of them-how many are left? (New math…)

Dale put some Peace plants on the back porch…very comforting to see and to be around.

Well, Shadow, that’s about it. Time to head back in and check out the bird feeder for squirrels!

 

You’d think in a male dominated society the saying would be, “He’s got Breast’s in the air,” not, “Balls in the air.”

I built this porch last summer…it was a bear of a job…the new plastic woods need joists every 12 inches or so….but I do love the work, the math, the shopping, the cutting, screwing, cursing…it’s all good. It took me about six weeks every morning from 6 am to 11 am before going to work to ‘get her done’….

Thanks for stopping by…

till next time.

Franque23

 

 


this post is under construction until tomorrow…


I think it’s time to sit down and type: I may have a cookie problem.

Cookies in computers are not exactly like cookies on a shelf. They help your browser locate your logins and stuff like that but hide info about you hackers might steal. So, unlike real melt in your mouth cookies to die for, computer cookies can be both good or bad for you.(:-) But why waste a glob on computer cookies when you can talk about sumptuous cookies to dream about?

 

It’s normal, I think, for a person to like cookies though I never have, at least not for many years. Sure, as a kid  me and my friends could stuff three or four cookies into our pie holes at one time and wash it all down with a coke(s).

“I’ll take three…”

This is how the terms, stupid kids, maniacs, wild jerks and heaven help us came to be. More, we soon figured out that we could sit in place and eat cookies and have twice the fun as we had going outside and spinning around in circles. Why work when all we had to do was eat?!?! (This was the start of the indoor drug craze.)

Cookies in the good old past made days better and parents difficult to hear. Plus, sometimes they came with fruit we never ate.

Back in history, it only took a kid once to understand that two cookies in the belly helped a fella get away from trouble faster.

We all knew the overdose cookie look when we saw it—those glazed over cookie eyes, uncontrollable, wiggling, tapin’ feet, that bent smile for no reason and a head full of bad ideas was easy to spot a block away. Having these famous symptoms was like wearing a scouting badge that outfit never offered but should have. Duh!

Merit Badge: catch a cookie in the mouth.

Anyway, about cookies. For me, doctor, it all started this year with Girl Scout cookies. I bought a box and then a few dozen more. Soon, I found myself daydreaming about how hilarious it would be to walk up to one of those small stands backed by a few moms and girl scouts and buy every box the entire troop had. Funny , huh? Then I started looking at my budget trying to figure how much five grand worth of Girl Scout cookies might set me back—you know, in terms of bills I wouldn’t be able to pay, maybe not ever. But, I’d have the cookies.

“I am sorry; I cannot help you. I am only a cookie.” —a Chinese fortune cookie.

It gets down to the fact that this cookie hobby of mine might take a doc to fix. Let’s just be real. It started with one cookie now and then but today I had four not counting another. Thing is, if we must be truthful, this whole cookie between my cheek and tongue habit really began with me picking and eating a home-grown grapefruit from my yard. I’m serious. The facts are I picked 17 grapefruit on Sunday, ate just one, and now, two days later, I’m eating four or five-ish cookies per day. Please tell me, the madness will never stop!

I’ve found Heaven!

 

So, I don’t need a cookie doctor but rather some expert on grapefruits. That’s nuts, huh? Go figure! I’ve never looked up this type of doc before, maybe, I don’t remember. But, there’s one thing I certainly need. I need a cookie hiding robot, sorta like the carpet sweeper thingy that goes around carpet cleaning all day by itself except my robot would specialize in cookie hiding.  The robot would know the minute I found the cookies and hide them again in increasingly more difficult to find locations. Finally, I’d have to dismantle the robot and put it by the curb—then, I’d be happy.

Obviously, this whole mess about eating seven or eight cookies is about happiness. One cookie makes a guy feel swell and two even better. Three cookies kick the day off nicely while four make you want to dance. Five, six, seven cookies make you delirious until finally you’re eating so many cookies you’re miserable and only cookies can cure you. The Girl Scouts know this, BTW. I should bring them grapefruits.

That’s about it for the cookie/grapefruit problem someone else had. This isn’t really about me, couldn’t be, no, not ever.  Not revealing their identity was hard work. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Anyway, I heard on Fox news that a fisherman said Thin Mints should be outlawed. It may be the next big splash on the airwaves.  News is all so tricky; what hooks and what doesn’t is hard to figure, right?

I guess my computer will save this cookie to the hard drive while I go eat one or ten circular morsels on my shelf.

 

Plus, I need a new scale.

Cheers

Franque23…gobble, gobble.

 

 

 

 


Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s doctor is the most important person in the world.

From every Conservative and Liberal Democrat: ” Ruth, please stay alive. We need your vote on the Supreme Court.”

If someone told me one year ago that I’d be praying for North Korea’s, Kim Jong-Un, to save the world I would have jumped from a high-speed train…

About those high-speed trains. Thank God America isn’t going full speed ahead on these. The old timey engines that huffed and puffed all that black coal smoke into the air are so much more nostalgic.

Also- about all that coal we love, I do miss the acid rains up north. It did wonders to clean up our road surfaces with pot holes while stripping those damn green forests bare! How else can we kill those evergreens?

As the saying goes—You can’t see the forest through the sticks…

So what about the Roses? Okay. I bought a tea rose-bush and planted it for my brother, Ed, when he died in 2004. Year after year deer would eat the bush down to the ground, but it kept coming back to bloom a scentless rose now and then. I kept watering the miserable always eaten failure of a rose none-the-less.

This year a completely different sort of bush sprang from the roots! Long thorny vines stretched eight feet out with no apparent blooms coming. I figured this was the root-stock of the tea rose and it may not bloom at all. I thought about removing the thorny vines. I waited…and waited. Then boom! A mass of the most beautiful red roses came with a wonderful fragrance! More than 28 roses at one time dazzled my eyes and nose!  The point: if we keep trying as a society to get what we want something even more beautiful than what we imagined may come!

.

It almost seems if a politician speaks out against homosexuals, abortions, sex affairs or any kind of lust then we can assume they are speaking about their well lined closet full of, ‘hat’s they wear.’ Some politicians claim to hate gays, abortion and whores! What they really mean to say is, “I am gay but, still, I have several girl friends under sixteen who have had to abort my would-be kids, and whores are sent by God to comfort me during my time of trouble.”

Thing is, in a bizarre way, Trump being noticeably crazy just might make Kim tow the line. Even Kim Jong-Un doesn’t want to mess with a nut job! So, Trump may get world renown credit for being bat-crap crazy!!

Our educational system is a nightmare! The last election proved it! Who knows what might be elected if we dumb down the whole process a bit more! The gutter’s not even the limit!

Oh boy- privatized, ‘choice’ schools that ensure some schools will serve privileged (mostly white) kids while the other schools will not. This worked well before, right?

Here’s a tip, look at any old photo that mentions Negroes and substitute the words, the poor, or, not-white, for it and you’ll get an A+ on any current reading test.

The current Republican’s in control of Congress and the White House are not prejudice—they just don’t like anyone who isn’t white or male!

I think having a meeting of all white men decide about a woman’s right to birth control is a , ‘no-brainer….’Absolutely, no brains. 

(This photo is a real picture of the congressional committee that made the decision on Women’s Birth Control rights……count the women. Hint: what number comes before the number, 1?)

If we can just drill our national parks and heritage sites enough, people will stop going to them and we can save all that money we pay for park rangers. And that dollar figure is about a zillionth of 1 % of our Federal budget! Psst-say nothing about the oil and gas profits; repeat.

The lack of bank regulation broke the American housing market in 2008 and brought about a world-wide crash. It’s super leadership that ten years later our Republican led Congress has just voted to loosen banking regulations again.  After all, some people made a killing on the crash, while other’s just literally died with no savings, no houses and no health care.

About Universal Health Care—it’s a good thing we don’t go there. Those massive walls America has had to build the past twenty years to keep out people from other countries that do have Universal Health Care is breaking our bank!  Hordes of people from Canada, England, France, Australia and other countries with Universal Health Care are sneaking or swimming over to pay more for less health care! It’s a huge, bigly problem. Right?

Why have Universal Health Care when we can pay more for less health care and lose everything we have to health care costs IF we get to be old?

In the past two decades the longevity of Americans has decreased from 11th to 42nd in world-wide statistics. Maybe we don’t have to worry about old age health care after all!?! Whoopee.

233 Republican Representatives actually voted last week to steal 2.9 Trillion dollars from Social Security surplus funds so they could take the money and spend it on themselves and pork projects. Vote every one of them out.*

Here’s what I say: vote these bastards out of Congress in 2018 and free the White House in 2020.

And all minorities, liberals, thinkers of all kinds need to join these folks at the polls in 2018 and then again in 2020.

Twenty six and seven-year olds were gunned down at Sandy Hook Elementary in 2012; many more mass shootings  have occurred before and since this massacre.  Those high school kids are right: it’s way past time to talk about gun control. Of course, action speaks louder than words…

Franque23

*https://www.socialsecurityworks.org/2018/04/12/politicians-steal-social-security/

 

 


That’s right. With just a single stroke of something, Shadow has a miraculous hole in his ear flap.

A sock in my face and a hole in my ear—

“Wait! Do you mean I’ll have a hole in my ear when I grow up?”

It all started without me knowing, though my wife had noticed the small offending,’bimp,’* for a while. It wasn’t big enough to be called a bump and not so big to think it wouldn’t go away. Of course, I hadn’t seen a thing since I use, ‘Guy-eyes,’ 100% of the time. Guy-eyes have the unique talent of selectively not seeing when it comes to things like dirty floors, dishes, walls, cars, yards, holes in dog’s ears, just about anything that relates to work or trouble or spending money. Any wife will tell you that, ‘Guy-ears,’ work about the same way. A dripping faucet becomes part of Beethoven’s Fifth symphony and a sink full of dirty dishes is no less than abstract art to guy-eyes. Yard trash is merely a small replica of a Burning Man exhibit in the works. No, my guy-eyes and ears didn’t see anything until Shadow’s special spot started to dazzle spinning disco lights and play sirens that could drown out an ambulance’s song.

Once, my wife called firemen to check on a smokey smell in our house. They searched around as I slept through the whole thing. It’s all about mind-power. I’m on guard 24/7 with this stuff.

More, guys like me have incredible tolerances when it comes to doing very little until we want to get going.  So Monday a week I fell into noticing this spot on Shadow’s ear flap that had now earned the name, ‘bumple’.

“Tick.” I ran upstairs to get the magnifying glass and tweezers.

Leafing thru random news today……

Just a, err,  head’s up! Did you know that  John Boehner  ex-republican speaker of the House is now a CEO of a, Pot, as in weed, company?

Of course, there is this. Shadow is the best dog, the most obedient dog, a polite eater, a perfect beggar and a relaxed, no jumping-up dog who constantly does jump-up with a smile. Except, that is, when my wife or I notice something, a scratch, a tiny piece of dirt, a bit of tree lice, an embedded minute twig or anything else on him.  Exploring the most teeny-weeny, infinitesimal speck of nothing becomes an all-out no can do with this dog. Once our fingers start to investigate anything on Mr. ‘I’m so good,’ he goes into terror mode—his eyes, oh how wide; his tongue now a flashing dart so merry; who knew a dog could twist his neck in so many directions with a paw beside his nose? The body wiggles’ attack any probing finger making the entire dastardly exploration nearly impossible!

“How is any of this going to help me swim better?”

I managed to discover that the offending spot was not a tick but a true bump of a spot!! In aggressive guy fashion, I put off thinking about this for another day, or four days until it was time for our Friday afternoon car ride. That’s when an uncontrollable force drove me and Shadow to the vet who said, “I don’t operate on Saturdays so bring him in at 7 AM Monday morning…”

Gulp!

We have so many more gardens to grow together!

You’ve been helping me weed for four years….

Monday came after a weekend of my mind trying not to construct a gallows or grave for my dog. Dreaded what-ifs became many bowls of ice cream; he’s gonna be fine became my version of the Chiffon’s, “He so Fine.”** Worse, we had to wait a week to hear the biopsy report after Shadow survived the operation. No matter, Shadow’s worth one week of distracted thought and his clown collar gave us plenty of laughs as he banged into walls, chairs and doors before he learned to navigate with a head the size of a huge watermelon.

Ol’ Clown collar face was not happy with his new arrangement at first, but check out his newly manicured toe-nails?!?

“Why do you keep looking at my ear?” Well, first off, it’s the other ear, Shadow. Nice try though.

Drum-stick roll……

Shadow’s fine as it turns out, but for the hole in his ear. Will it heal and close? The jury’s still out but I think he will weigh one hole less when this is all done. But the pills he’s had to take have brought him a boat load of treats and Shadow’s happy about that.

Jump for joy! “Will  I get to wear a clown collar one day? Look at me go!!!”

Sometimes, I almost think he likes wearing that clown collar?!?!?

This last operation episode puts Shadow in the—most expensive dog we ever owned—category.  This is due to his propensity to charge after squirrels through brush, trees, fence and field in random directions with a hurricane force of will. The facial cuts keep coming.  In the end, I imagine Shadow will resemble a boxer, not the dog but the guy in the ring. Speaking of rings,  if Shadow retains his ear flap hole it will be tempting to place a ring through it! But he’d just get that caught on something and rip his ear flap in half.  Sigh.

We not only have the best dog in the whole world, but one with a hole in his ear flap, too! How special is that, baby?

Cheers from thank-goodness land.

And of Thanks, these broccoli, collard greens and kale have been yielding since last October!!! I picked more broccoli today, 4/11/18?!?! Does this give you seed for thought?

Franque23

 

 

 

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3UP2FraDCU

**https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rinz9Avvq6A

 

 

 

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