CRUISING IN A T-BIRD

We have a good friend who owns a

1956 Ford Thunderbird roadster convertible.

Two-seater, with the continental kit; turquoise blue, 312 V8 engine. 

Every time DH sees it he almost cries.

When DH finally told our friend about his admiration for the little blue baby,

 Said Friend told him to come get the keys and take it for a spin.

So on a warm summer evening my honey

 pulled up in the driveway to take me out on a hot date.

We went for a cruise through the country, wind in the hair,

 sun glasses, waving at anyone who stared—the whole bit.

 Then we drove down Main Street and waved at more people,

 got yelled at by some kids on skate boards and got a thumbs-up 

from another one of our friends, a police officer in his patrol car.

 DH was in hot rod heaven.

 I kinda liked it too.

 We stopped to get something to eat at a hamburger stand. 

 I had a pastrami grinder—hold the mayo.

We share a side of fries—fresh cut Idaho Russets with fry sauce. 
The best!

 Then back in our cool ride for another cruise.  It was FUN, FUN, FUN.

 Only one complaint—no cup holder.

No we won't be buying the T-bird.


Yes, convertibles do a number on a head of hair,
but we're just grateful to have hair at this point.


Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson:
you find the present tense, but the past perfect.

WEATHER REPORT

Sunny this morning...

...Afternoon clouds...

...Scattered evening thundershowers.

 I know it's futile but I'm hoping Irene will turn right and for a big rain in Texas.

SIGNS, A RABBIT AND A SHADOW

Last June we had a lot of water in places we weren’t used to.

 

No Overnight Parking.

No Parking Anytime.

 Now the water is back where it usually goes.  

But still No Overnight Parking.

Still No Parking Anytime here.

Who’s going to tell the birds and the moose?

 Or the bunnies.  

This one is parking his little cotton tail while he gets his breakfast.

 That is--until this annoying human comes wandering along.

 Can’t a bunny park and get a little fast food without being harassed?

FINE.  I’ll get my munchies elsewhere.

 One final note:  being built low to the ground, 

I just love seeing my long, lean shadow early in the morning.

THAT'S CLASS

I have two kinds of roses in my garden. 

One kind blossoms, smells nice, and looks pretty good 

for a short time.  But give them a little stress, too much sun 

or bring them into the house to put in an arrangement and they fall apart. 

The next morning they are nothing but stems and a heap of petals.

The other kind of rose looks beautiful even as a bud.  They hold up well,

…have long strong stems and even look great when they’re 

jammed into an old soap bucket with a bunch of coneflowers.

I’ll bet you have friends like these.  They can go camping 

for a week in the rain or endure twelve hours of labor and delivery 

and still look fresh and rested.

 --Like people who participate in triathlons…

they swim, bike and run amazing distances in much less than three hours

 …and make it look easy.

 Even after such grueling undertakings…

 They laugh it off and are looking forward to the next time.

 Sometimes I hate those people.