Wednesday, June 01, 2011


As I sat on the porch this morning, the farmer behind our house was roto-baling his hay field. Pungent yet compelling sweet scents of the curing grasses filled lingering nighttime mists, along with subtle perfume from drowsy honeysuckle along the fence row. Even the noise of the machinery could not block the trilling of a robin and the varied songs of cardinals. Smaller birds were piping in occasionally; chickadees with their namesake chick-a-dee-dee-dee and tits calling a questioning peter-peter-peter. If I could hear half well, it would have been a symphony. The resident mocking bird was diving at insects being sent airborne by the baler, I was enjoying coffee, and Carolyn was at hairdresser. A pretty good morning but by 10am, the air was so warm, humid, and sticky that I had to retreat to the office.
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Couldn’t sleep last night; I was up at 3am taking half a Xanax and thirty minutes later I was sleeping. Fortunately for y’all, I don’t have most of your phone numbers and being a gentleman of the old school, I would not have disturbed your sleep anyway … would I? Other than me and possibly Maggie, Jola was probably the only one of our virtual little family who was awake at that time.
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While laying awake, I thought of some more stuff to add to the story, and also a way to trim some fat from what I already have. I hate for my serious work to be overly wordy but it seems to be the norm with authors and publishers these days. Too much salt spoils the soup … and the cook.
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I love the long version of Suzie Q.
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Have a (choose your own superlative) Wednesday!
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