THROWBACK THURSDAY

The big day is drawing nigh, which takes me back to a miserable Christmas I spent in the year 1952.

I was 12 years old and recovering from an emergency
surgery after my appendix ruptured.

I had spent a week in the hospital (things were done differently in those days) and was now at home but still an invalid.

My bedroom was upstairs in our house and I had to be carried downstairs and settled in on the couch for Christmas morning.

Surrounding me in this picture were my uncle Zenas from San Francisco, my mother, my grandfather and my dad.

Mom wrote on the back of the picture "Doesn't Bruce look pale?"

As you can see the house had been gaily decorated to cheer me up.

I don't look very cheerful though, do I?

THE BIG BLACK BANK

While driving in to town yesterday, I noticed what appeared to be a new paint job on one of the local banks.

It was so stunning to me that I had to stop and photograph it.

You can see one of the presumed painters just above the entrance.  

It appears the entire building will get the new color.

And just in time for Christmas.

As I commented to a man in the parking lot . . . "well, it's distinctive."

"We like it," he answered.

ROBIN REDUX

The robins were back again yesterday.

First this big fella, who kind of seemed like The Leader of the Pack.

Then this slightly smaller one, perhaps a female.

And, perhaps, her mate?

One drinks while the other watches for marauders.

Then the other takes his turn.

Then apparently satisfied that no peril is near they both drink as much as they can hold.

One has flown away but the other apparently has something else in mind.

Ah, nothing like a nice cool bath even though the air temperature was right around 30 degrees.

I noticed this time a curious trait.

The bird would sit in the water and flick the water up and around with his tail.

And he seemed to be saying "Are you lookin' at me? Well, are ya?"

Of course that could just be my poetic imagination.

I was so disgusted with the smears on the window inside and out that once the robins left I went out and washed the outside and wiped off the inside.

The spots on the inside, SWMBO helpfully pointed out, were probably "kitty snot".

Thanks, I needed that.

SUNDAY DINNER

Caribbean chicken, glazed carrots, mix of Arborio rice and Quinoa.

My wife is a damned fine cook.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

Wow!  I've had an early Christmas this year.

You Gentle Readers have been sending me a plethora of material for my weekly humorfest.

(Plethora means "a lot".)

It's hard to know where to begin so I think I'll just close my eyes and reach into the basket.

Here goes.

All right, GR's, I'll give you a rest now from all that laughing.

The neighbors are starting to wonder about you.

I want you to promise me now that you'll all have a fantasy-filled wonderful weekend.

Don't forget to watch "A Christmas Story" and see if Ralphie really gets that official Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-Shot Range Model air rifle that he's been craving.

It's bound to be playing on television somewhere near you.

And a heartfelt thanks to my generous friends who continue to supply me with so many of The Friday Funnies.

Now, here kitty-kitty . . .

THROWBACK THURSDAY

I was communicating with an acquaintance yesterday and suddenly realized that she and I were both in our upper 70's.

I have known her for over 50 years.

And I thought "how can that be?"

Time slips through one's fingers, seemingly faster and faster as one grows older and older.

So what better time to turn back the clock, eh Gentle Readers?

The older man is who I saw staring back at me from the mirror just after I had shaved my beard off back in 1991.

I was so startled that I immediately began growing the beard back.

Oh, yeah, that man is my father.

And the cute little rascal he's holding up, already wearing the first of many hats he collected through his life, is me.

On my first birthday.

I can't say much for the rest of the outfit but I will mention as an aside to Val that the short pants weren't a precursor to the Real Short Shorts I wore in a series of travel photos from the 1980's.

Ah, Time, where have you gone?

A SPICY HOLIDAY SEASON

SWMBO has been on a tear lately.

First she made Spiced Pecans.

Then Spicy Red Pepper Jelly.

Some great Bacon Ginger Cookies.

Yesterday Apricot Pecan Cake.

When I was a wee lad in North Dakota my mother frequently used to bake.

Cookies, bread, sweet bread, cakes and pies.

Strangely, my memory of those times is her slapping my hand when I went for a taste and saying "That's for the Ladies' Aid."

I have related that story to SWMBO many times over the years and she has finally learned.

When she makes something for a gift to someone she always makes enough extra so I get my share.

Just to show her what an appreciative husband I am, while she's at the doctor and the grocery store I am whipping up a loaf of Pumpernickel Rye Bread.

Lori Down the Street frequently comments that we eat well.  

(So do she and her Handyman Husband, by the way.)

But I relish this time of year when the limits on treats for the sweet tooth seem to be lifted and the kitchen hums with activity.