My plan ( mah playn) is to make this a 3 part posting - all on the same day. As we all know or should know if you visit here often, in my world plans don't always work out. It is Noon : 10. I have just finished a delightful lunch of a pork chop [ fyi: I just had to back up and retype "pork chop" - first time my rapid spelling came out "porch kop" - somewhat fitting for my blug premise ] Forgot where I was.... ate a porch kop, blackeye peas, macaroni & cheese, one jalapeno pepper, and a big hunkin' glass of unsweet peach tea. Yummy.
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So I am resting and harmonizing with my puter keyboard.
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Fritz barked and roused the wife at 5:30 this morning - time for a Dog Pit visit. All dogs came alive as she reintroduced them to the pit's grassy knoll. Finished, dog breakfast followed by - give or take - a 3 to 4 hour nap. Meanwhile, little Greta and I just rolled over and continued our initial overnight siesta. Greta either sleeps on a dog pillow by my side of the bed or on a dog pillow under the foot of the bed. She likes to be an equal opportunity pillow sleeper. Last night she started under the foot of the bed but ended by my side of the bed. My wife has no dog pillow by her side of the bed - She has never said why but I am guessing it has to do with either lack of space or the aroma of a well-used dog pillow. My honker doesn't have the best smelling attachment; thus, I rarely smell their hides next to me.
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As an aside: Fluffy Liesl has the same sleeping habits as Greta, but she is usually one of the first to get up in the morning and seems to enjoy her early = predawn = romp in the Pit.
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So Greta and I continued to sleep. The wife handles the morning dog duties; I put them away at night. Seems fair to me. Then, she goes to her sewing room and works on her next project. She is piecing a quilt at the moment.
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Greta woke me up at 7:30. This is rare for her to rise so early. I let her out of the bedroom - she made the "pit trip" - ate breakfast - obviously an EAT DAY - and went back to bed. I was back in bed at 7:31. 8:15 I felt guilty and got up..... various things happened around the house....
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Our house has 3 yards: front, back inside the fence, and side/back outside the fence.
I own 3 major yard machines: riding John Deere mower, back wheel powered John Deere hand type mower, and a gas weed eater. A few years back, a neighbor borrowed the weed eater for an afternoon of pleasure. When it returned, they had christened it "The Terminator." The Terminator must have done a very adequate job for them. I know it does for me. The Terminator and I have killed 2 pretty big ugly snakes over the almost 5 years of living here; it takes no prisoners.
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With the above explanation done, let me move on. My wife has one major yard tool, a battery powered pair of grass clippers. She trims. It makes me nervous for her to get down with that set of clippers - you never know what might be lurking in the grass.
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This morning, I fired up the hand mower - did i mention it is a key start? No more pulling ropes for me. I got that feature so my wife could start the mower and use it. Another dream smashed. So, I turned the key and mowed the bottom portion of the front yard. Parked it. Fired up the riding mower (yes, key, also). It ran 13.2 seconds before it died. Gnashing of teeth. Then, in a simply brilliant stroke of intelligence, I looked in the gas tank. Empty. Filled. Mowed the remainder of the front. We have a few bluebonnets growing. Must not mow bluebonnets. The area across the road has lots of bluebonnets. I mowed a section of that - Philosophy, short grass is not inviting to snakes.
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Finally, I dug out the Terminator and weed ate the front yard, the side yard leading to the back yard outside the fence, along most of the sea wall, having a good time....I turned around and the wife was standing there yelling at me. Y'see, I had plugs in my ears and a noise reduction headset on my head - could not hear a thing. I smiled. She spoke loudly. I read lips.
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Came inside and ate - now you have spent the morning with me. This afternoon promises more fun mowing the back yard, weed eating the rest of the area beyond the fence, weed eat inside the fence - all while throwing a ball for Oscar. He has never gotten the concept of people working do not like to stop for ball throwing. Good boy. 20% chance of rain tomorrow.
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o'er and out
A "STONE" is a family word for a personal story or thought, not quite an essay or short story. We moved to central Texas to be near a daughter. We are down to only one wirehair dachshund - Sadie. (Goodbye in 2021 to Oscar the ball boy and Bruno the larger twin) & my wife -- penned by a retired Texas H.S. band director - just nonsense thoughts unrelated to each other or anything other than what's happening and comments.
Love your blogs. I love moms cookin. pok chorps are great,
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