Saturday Faces…

The new, now generation

Went about their business

At car washes, laundromats

Faithless and faithful

Proclaimed mantras

Of brashness, impatience

Disrespected, objects of disrespect

Not all of them deserved

Refused to stay kids forever

Some went back where they came from

Some to where they belonged

Pumpkin Spice Mania

The weekend is upon us–and the first day of October.

During the eighties and nineties our family took October vacations.  To do the usual stuff;  gaze at fall colors; last excursions to the beach; enjoy cooler weather before winter doldrums set in.

Halloween is nearly here, Thanksgiving will be next.  This is the season of  all things flavored with pumpkin spice.  Those who are so inclined should be in ecstasy.  I’m not changing for anybody.  I still like coffee flavored coffee.

What’s worse than pumpkin spice flavored coffee?  Christmas merchandising in September.



The Right Side

It has been quite a while since I’ve done one of these Saturday morning coffee klatch things.  There have been some distractions lately.

It’s a new day, with beautiful sunshine.  Family concerns over the past several weeks have worked themselves out.  There are better days ahead for those concerned.

This is the day set aside to recognize those among us that are left-handed.  I count myself among the eleven percent.  If you are a fellow lefty, I respect you.  You can relate to issues faced by other lefties.

Stay on the right side today–whether you’re a lefty or not.  Have a second cup of Joe on me, and a happy Saturday.


The Week Has Wound Down…

It’s Saturday–a very hot, summer Saturday morning.  Sorry, fellow coffee klatchers,  I didn’t finish my second cup.  I know that’s sacrilege.  Promise to make up for it later.

Political punditry is not my forte, so I’m staying far away from that.  There’s plenty of time between now and November to catch up on what’s important.

The bridge on the main county road to all parts east, is still out.  I continue to meet lost souls, looking for easy alternative routes.  There are no easy detours in life.  This time it was a young man piloting a furniture delivery truck.  In suburbia, land of dead end streets, one cul-de-sac, is the same as another.

This is looking like a Saturday to catch up on things that need repairing, cleaning–leaving the slate clear for any impromptu, miscellaneous tasks.  Putting this into words is an anathema to procrastination.


No News Is Good News

Nothing exciting to report this Saturday.  Unless, vacuuming per hair is your forte.  As pet owners will attest, dogs and cats shed incredible amounts of hair.  I extracted more than enough hair to make two complete dogs.  I wondered, were there any artsy-crafty type people out there, interested in buying dog hair?

The vacuuming’s completed.  Now for a refreshing bowl of ice cream.  Too late, the mutts are wise to me.  I’m a sucker, for begging, brown eyes and they know it.

That’s the Way Saturdays Go

Clear day promised, now it would rain

Confused doe didn’t know which way to run

Surrounded by friends without much to say

Unknown critter splashed in swamp

Somewhere beyond the tree line

Pleasure boat fist pounded wave tops

In semi-darkness, way before dawn

That’s it from here–Happy Saturday!



Another Saturday Gone By

It’s eight in the morning.  Another cloudy day.  How long has it been since we’ve viewed the sun?  Too long.

Back from a brisk walk–feeling good.  At least it didn’t rain.  There have been a lot of songs written about rain–“Singing In the Rain,”  “Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall,” “Can’t Stand the Rain.” Enough about weather and rain.

The good news–I survived dreaded Saturday postings.  To paraphrase: I got let down easy, let down slow, so I’m taking it easy, don’t you know.

My significant other and myself went to a popular casual dining chain restaurant the other night because they ran a forty per cent off special.  We’re retired, always looking for bargains.

Got a notification from the credit card company today.  It said “wasn’t the amount of your tip a bit excessive?”  What business was it of theirs?   I enjoyed a good meal at 40% off regular prices and tipped at the regular price.  Nowhere was it advertised, “40% off tip night.”

Thanks omnipotent credit card company for fraud checking.  Leave it at that.

Don’t hate me for being clueless.  I lost interest in pro-basketball years ago.  I’ll spare you the details.  At the car repair shop waiting room this past Thursday, the television was tuned to an all-sports channel.  Reading material, as I expected, ran out rather quickly.

I first assumed the Golden State Warriors had won the national NBA championship.  No, that wasn’t the case; even though I had two hours to figure it out.  Silly me, everybody was buzzing about Kobe Bryant’s record sixty points.

Hope you had a great Saturday!  Since everything seems to be affected by the rise and fall of oil prices, here are some parting thoughts.

  • Double, double, oil and trouble
  • Oily to bed and oily to rise
  • At oil’s fall, all slowed to a crawl
  • The oily boid gets the woim
  • Oil’s well that ends well




“It’s like a legendary gourmet cook making mud sandwiches.  The adoring audience cheers, ‘Bravo’–but, it’s still mud.”

My local refuse collection company in a recent letter, referred to customers as “refuse generators.”  Why not “subscribers” or “consumers?”  I’m not feeling the love.