Go'n a Little Country

  Sunday morning came my way
 In the X-Terra to spend the day
Over two passes a mountainous climb
Came into scenery oh so sublime

Blew into Bozeman nine thirty exact
My relatives waiting, that was a fact
We laughed and we danced, acted most silly
Nana turned country, bizarre, willy-nilly

Cody slept in the back and didn't give a bark
Back home to my chickens before it grew dark
A day in the life of a silly old broad
The song is by Ashly and the Broad ain't no fraud
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Float in a moat, everybody has a boat

Have you ever been faced with the decision to suffer through
something you hate vs. hurting someone you like?  Innocently
enough, I often end up in that predicament.

Perfect example

I was on my knees pulling weeds along the lot line of my
yard when my neighbor drove up, jumped out of
the car, all in bliss heaven and goggledee-eyed from her
marriage of a week ago.  She (a much younger spry-of-legs
version than her newly acquired husband) ran over to me while
 he struggled to get out of the car.

With breathless excitemet she exclaimed,  "Guess what we
bought....guess what we bought!

Ummm....twin beds?

"We bought a boat."

She's beaming and hugging me and bouncing up and down.
Looking me right in the eye, I'm not so sure now if the bliss I
 see is for the new marriage or the new boat, but it's definitely
there as her voice asked in a new high-powered pitch,
"Do you like boats?"

OH MY GOD.....I knew exactly what was coming next. No
crystal ball, I just knew. She was going to offer me a ride in
her boat.  Now don't misunderstand. I love this neighbor so
much, in fact she is the best neighbor I've ever had.
She's moving and I'll miss her terribly BUT that is not the
point. The point is I HATE BOATS. They are simply my
idea of "nothing to do."My husband had a party boat for
ten years and I never stepped foot on it.  Really. Swaying along
the Florida coast line with his alcoholic relatives was REALLY
my idea of nothing to do, but that's another story). And no,
I'm not afraid of water. I grew up on a lake that was a mile
wide and as kids we swam back and forth (but a really
stupid thing to do).

So if I put it mildly to my neighbor, that I don't like boats,
she'll say, "Oh come on, you'll love it." I have to put it
strongly and nip it in the bud right away but whatever
I say, she'll think I'm a jerk.

I said in kind of quiet voice, "I detest boats."  Oh,
her face, you would have thought I had slapped her.
Not only did she most likely think I was a jerk......I felt
like a jerk. Newly acquired husband finally made
it out of the car and approached with a picture of the
new boat.  I gushed and gushed over the beauty of the
 boat, hoping to redeem myself a little and  just
wanting to return to my weeding.  Oh, woe.

Here's my big question.....
What would you have done/said? That is, if you had
my same feeling about boats, which you most likely
don't because all people love boats, except me.

Do you think you'll be a spring chicken again?

One chicken to another, "And how is your life going?"

All spring
chickens get
old. Proof of
the pudding,
here are 2 of
the baby
chicks that
I got in
April.

It seems like
lately all
I hear is,
"You ain't
no spring
chicken
anymore."

All I want to say is, "Screw you. Don't you think I have mirrors.
I can see that."

As a dancer most of my life, it saddens me even more to watch
my head jut forward as my shoulders and back become rounded.
And the very, very worst thing happening to this "has-been spring
chicken"  is that when I try very hard to straighten up, I
absolutely can't.  I am frozen in a hideous position that is 2 inches
shorter than my former self.  What is this sucky old age that is
touted to be "the golden years." Blaat....

I should have asked what you want first, the good news or the bad
news but I just gave you the bad news first.  Rejoice....... there is
good news.  I have discovered that young people can be old inside
and old people young, depending on how much one uses the short
muscles that support the large ones.  People go to a gym every
day and work on the same large muscles without ever giving a
thought to what supports those hunkers.

To wonderful new technology:  I hate you because you rattle my
brain, but I also love you because you transport me miles
from home  where I can inject knowledge into my shrunken
brain cells.

I've been taking exercise lessons by Skype from a wonderful
gal who had cured herself of this old age malady when she was
very young and for 30 years she has helped others regain the
height they lost and for instance, are able to clip their own
toe nails again. (You have to be where I was, to fully appreciate
what this toe-nail thing means.....Ha)

The exercises are totally different from the ones you would
do in a gym and she keeps adjusting a program that is uniquely
designed to strengthen each person's core.  My friend,
Marilyn has been doing this a year and has already gained back
the 2 inches she's shrunk. I have a long way to go but joy
of joys and hallelujah, I can again balance on one leg, yoga style, without a
wobble.  That alone is back to spring for this old chicken. LOL

How's your springy chicken do'n?
~~~~~~~~~~
PS..I don't understand computers at all. I first published this post
and it was lined up the way I wanted it and after a day it took off
on it's own and ended up all crazy. I don't know how to change
it without doing the whole thing over. Sorry...technology and age.
Double blatt

Strawberries

Do you ever think
of strawberries? I
do. I recall the tiny
sweet wild berries,
growing around
our cabin in Northern
MN. Pure ambrosia
of the gods.  You
could lie down in
a patch and eat
your way into a
state of bliss.

That was also
around the time
when   Ingmar
Bergman's movie
"Wild Strawberries"
came out. (mmmm think I'll have to see that movie again)

All of these thoughts popped into my mind like a mini jolt
of lust when my neighbor asked if I wanted some
strawberry plants. Suddenly,  reality of the govt. food
regulatory agencies came to mind and I thought of the large
attractive strawberries that now dress up the produce
departments but taste like one of Cody's dog chews.

Also remembering how they send out the long runners and
take up so much room, I was about to tell the neighbor, "no"
when she went on to say they were Alpine, tiny little berries
that produced no runners but stayed in a clump. uummm, I
 thought for a second and said, "I would be happy to take
some plants."

I planted 5 small plants that flourished into round molds
of lush green, dripping with tiny red berries of a decadant
memory. OMG they ARE the wild strawberries of my past.
I've been reliving an old movie all summer.

Remember ALPINE.....no runners....round clumps and
sheer lust.