Well folks, today is the first day of March and, I ask, "Where is the gentle lamb that I was hoping for. I don't exactly hear the roar of a lion, either. Old man winter's flight plan is still up in the air, days away.
I just go with the flow and keep my heavy coat and fuzzy hat close at hand. The sunscreen, shades, and visors are on call!
I purchased a classy bumbershoot from Publishers Clearing House over two decades ago.
The cats that cover the out-stretched fabric cover are cute and the protection provided has been great.
That collapsible shade has been through the school of hard knocks to put it mildly. And, like me, it has known ups and suffered downs.
One day last month, I decided to gather up the mail from the box at the end of my drive, several or more steps away from the little blue house at the end of the road. I am always excited to receive correspondence, "The Brazil Times," and other mail, including, yes, junk mail!
The wind and rain gave the umbrella and this user a good pounding, going, and coming back toward the house. I struggled to hang on to the object in my hand. The hinged ribs that radiated from the skinny black pole flipped upward and the cats hid in the wrinkles of the cover.
Still securing the damper than damp newspaper and other mail beneath my arm; I straightened up the umbrella, then positioned the multi-tasking sunshade toward the front of me and proceeded to walk the few remaining steps toward the porch. I was going a fairly good clip when that already abused hand held wonder came in contact with the wrought iron front porch post, forcibly.
This dizzy blonde received a wake-up call, a painful rib jab to the gut, lost my balance and tumbled to the ground with a thud. The damaged umbrella skipped across yard, picked up a little mud, and added to its misfortune.
I grabbed up sick by the stick and gave it a bath. When the drying was completed, I retired it.
The other day we met up again and I said, "I will mend you, properly and with luck; you shall rise again-good as new!" I did!
Now, the other pretty umbrellas in my keep will be shelved. We are ready for a parade in the rain. We prefer gentle spring rains, but we are bold, still.
Our eldest daughter, Starla McHugh visited her family this weekend. We enjoyed the quality time that she spent with us Sunday morning.
The enthusiastic business savvy woman informed us of inventions that she plans to produce prototypes of, secure patents, and, hopefully, market.
She also is in charge of one of the largest Auto Auction Companies in the Southwest.
So, what does she do when she lets her hair down? Well, recently she traveled to Las Vegas to attend a fabulous "Cher" concert. She enjoyed choice seating and a special treat.
Ever since her days as a student at Eastside School, she has been a fan of the throaty, songstress/ entertainer.
In fact, once she tried to pull my leg and said that Cher came to her school to entertain at recess. I pretended to believe her. Then, the little dickens giggled and confessed to the fib.
For years, Starla enjoyed Chers music, movies, televised appearances and performances, from afar. Then, years later; there she was with no fib to tell.
She said the aging beauty underwent fifteen costume changes and wore wigs of different colors. The superstar's performance was outstanding, flawless; the voice is still pure and resonating.
The entertainer talked to her fans between sets. Cher has had $500,000 worth of plastic surgeries. Imagine that!
Starla returned to her home in Buckeye, AZ tonight and as for all of us, we had a very good day.
I can be reached at 446-4852 or drop me a line to 613 North Elm St., Brazil IN., or by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.