Continuing the non-fiction streak.
Margret is on the streets today. Had a guy come up to me in a parking lot at lunch wanting to get details on the car. Interesting that many Boomers have these reincarnation ideas. For me, it is just a small retreat into a simpler time. As I may have shared here previously, my original Galaxie was hardly the most reliable transportation. I developed an electrical problem coming back to Iowa from ND one weekend and the repair did little to correct the problem. The car sat for several months that winter in the lot at ND because I didn't have the money for the repairs and I was afraid to ask Grandpa.
Tomorrow will be an interesting day as people start to take off for the long 4th of July weekend. Our office is open Monday, as most businesses are, but lots of people are inclined to take Monday as a vacation day. If the "markets" are open, Criterium is open.
Phil sounds pretty calm for the father of the bride, just two weeks before the wedding. He says that bride and mother of the bride are still on point.
The Tour de France starts this weekend. Lots of doping controversy. OLN broadcasts the race each day, somewhat live in the AM, and then a produced show of sorts at night. The national news services are now picking up daily stories on the event and the various personalities. If he stays healthy, Basso should be the man to beat.
My partner Bill and his family are moving to a new place this weekend. They built a villa/townhome/condo in one of the new developments in north Bettendorf. Looks like a lot of money and stress to me. I like my house. Just wish it were on a street with a little less traffic.
My tomatos are coming along nicely. I'm already miles ahead of my results last year. I have 4 plants. I remember Mother having row after row of tomato plants in the garden at the original farm house. And she never put stakes or cages around the plants. They just kind of grew in a mess there on the ground. I remember hoe-ing the weeds. And eating tomato sandwiches. And Mother canning tomato juice. Glass jars in the cave that we called a basement. I still like tomato juice and crackers.
Mother also planted lots of potatos at one time in the second garden north of the back yard, behind the peach trees that bordered the old chicken house/coop. I vaguely remember digging up potatos, picking peaches, and gathering eggs. I guess you could say that we were just poor dirt farmers.
Enough of that nostalgia. I'm hitting the hills for 15-20. Thanks for reading. This is always one of my favorite parts of the day (whenever I'm writing the blog). I know that I'm connecting with you guys just down the old electronic hallway. It makes the miles go away. Love you.
Be careful out there.
Philosophy, History and Commentary from Lt. PC
8 comments:
I thought it was interesting, if not surprising, that in the first paragraph you refer to Grandpa Horan as "Grandpa" instead of "Daddy." Later, though, you wrote "Mother" like one would expect, instead of "Grandma."
I would like to point out (and yes I did just get home from the office) that while dad's car sat broken, as he was too afraid to ask grandpa for the money to fix it... none of the Horan girls have ever hesitated to hit up the old man for cash. For car repairs or really anything else. Someday we'll make it up to you, dad. Much love!
lets clarify that, mary. YOU'LL make it up to him. None of the rest of us look like we're on the way to total financial freedom...
Basso's out! Basso's out!!! WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO THE TOUR!?
I mean, Jan Ullrich's still in
They're all gone!!!! Good thing I was there when all the greats were racing...Because I clearly recognized them as they sped by me : )
don't you guys have a life?
sar says hi from des moines. we're having chips and salsa. ther was no herdez. we went with pace. to those who don't know, i am now on the way to financial freedom. translated: i have a job.
Post a Comment