THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

I don't know why I punish myself this way but I'm writing this on Thursday.

Yesterday to you Friday Folk.

And that morning I was at the eye doctor for a routine examination and had my eyes dilated.

As I'm typing this on a white screen, it's glaring at me.

And this is the time I decided to give you an all words post of The Pre-Weekend Hilarity.

So, just don't call the guys in the white suits on me.

I'll be okay by the time you're reading this.

Just enjoy.

Okay so that's a toughie.

Just say it out loud and it'll come to you.

Now while you're doing that (people are staring at this strange person talking to himself) take a break and painstakingly plan yourself a plumb pacesetting weekend.

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

( . . . uh, and kitty and kitty and kitty and . . .)

RAGTAGGERY

I thought I had made up the above word to describe my post today - some seemingly disconnected thoughts.

But I see (thanks, Google) that it has been in use fairly widely for some time.

This all started with a meme sent by Comical Carol down in the Big Valley and it so hit a chord with me that I had to use it today.

With sincere apologies to the Physical Therapists who *plagued* me after my tumble last July, that froggie's thought perfectly describes my daily regime.

So where does the "ragtaggery" come in, you ask.

And I'll tell you.

Quite a few hours later, my wife and I were joking about how I looked in a pair of sunglasses I purchased at the Phoenix Art Museum years ago.

Now she didn't use any words that have become un-P.C. but she did end her critique with the word "dahlin'".

My response was to say "You don't have to call me dahlin', dahlin, you never even call me by my name!"

And that great line comes from a favorite country-and-western song sung by David Allen Coe.

Here goes.

For those of you who don't like Country and Western wailers, I apologize.

But you really ought to give it a chance.

Dahlin'.

LEFTOVERS

Here's what you do when you find nothing to eat but a few leftovers in the fridge.

You re-create!

Say you have some leftover stir fry vegetables.

And some pasta meat sauce.

Simple.

You re-heat them.

Add some more pasta.

In this case, Gigli aka Campanelle but Gigli is more fun to say.

Toss some leftover bread with some spice on it in the oven .

Before you know it you've got a feast!

Now, can somebody sing some opera tunes?

Gâteau aux pommes à la française

Unless you read French (which I don't) you'll have to have Google Translate to tell you that title above means French Apple Cake.

And that's what came out of my oven yesterday morning.

Just in time to top off our Valentine's Day dinner, one of our favorites for half a century, Chicken Piccata with Fettucini Alfredo.

I just realized we had an Italian dinner with a French dessert.

As my father used to say, "good eatin'!"

So what graced your table?

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes.

Yes you, romance lovers.

It's your favorite day of the year.

It's 💓💓💓 VALENTINES DAY 💓💓💓!

So, hang on to your loved ones and let's get started.

Okay, okay, so he or she laughed at the wrong ones.

Kiss and make up, it's only that way in The Friday Funnies.

Now if you still have any rich (covered in chocolate) ideas, use them to have an astoundingly fine weekend.

And don't forget to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

( . . . oh, someone has to spoil the message . . . )

STILL LIFE WITH SCISSORS

 

JUST A PEDDLER

Again we go into the past, the deep past, to see what we'll find.

Judy was going through a box of family documents and pictures the other day and found a business card of one of her great uncles, Forest F. Williamson.

This was from the early 20th century and showed evidence of his travels to the American Southwest, long before we (Judy and I) came here.

"Uncle Forest", as he was known to Judy in those days, must have had quite a few adventures as he traveled from northern Kansas to New Mexico and Arizona and all the way back to Indiana to visit his family.

The Interstate Highway System was far in the future and I'd expect many of the roads he drove weren't even paved yet.

Nevertheless, the other side of his card shows his modesty.

WORDS

The other day I ruminated for you on the subject of going to "the store".

Not naming the store but because of growing up in a very small town there was usually only *one* store so one didn't have to name it.

That prompted an email from a friend of mine with whom I spent many childhood years in that town.

He said he had been thinking about all the words and phrases that were commonplace back then but have since mostly disappeared from our speech.

So he wrote a little poem about it.

With thanks to Jerry, here it is.

Did he miss any?

If you can think of any more, just let us all know in your comment.

VEG

In my last post I showed you a pyramid of lemons and limes.

Or if you'd like to practice your Spanish . . limones y limas.

Today's picture shows you a different side of SWMBO's kitchen artistry.

Zucchini, peppers, onions and garlic.

Or once again in Español . . calabacín, pimientos, cebollas y ajo.

All ready for Judy's stir-fry recipe.

Whatever the language, it was good!

CITRUS

I only *wish* these were from our own trees but they just came from the grocery store.

BTW, Judy and I had a conversation last night about terminology.

I said that for modern generations that have come long after us, the expression is "I got them from the grocery store," or "I got them at Safeway. Or Fry's. Or Wal-Mart."

Because they have grown up with all of those choices.

But for people like Judy and I, who grew up in very small towns, there's a difference.

We say "I got them from the store!"

We grew up in towns where there was only *one* store to buy groceries.

How about you?

What do you say?

LOOKING BACK

More and more, as one ages, it becomes fascinating to look back to "the old days".

My cousin, Bonnie, recently sent me a photo of some members of the maternal side of my family.

This is my grandfather, Martinus "Martin" Halvorson Hylland and my grandmother, Beatha H. Ronningen.

They were both born in the United States but Martin's father was born in Norway and emigrated to the U.S.

The photo must have been taken shortly before Martin's death because that occurred in 1945, when I was 5 years old.

That's me in the lower right corner, holding my cousin Cherie's hand.

My cousin, Bonnie, is the one clowning on the left side of the photo, being held in the air by my brother, Wayne.

I don't think I have any other pictures showing my mother's father so this was a treat for me to see.

Martin, or Grampa Hylland as I knew him, was a farmer in North Dakota.

His wife, my Gramma, lived on after him for many years and was one of the best cooks I ever knew.

I still miss her lefse when the Christmas holidays roll around.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 

That's all I've got.

Have a good weekend and always keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .