Ah, it's ThrowBack Thursday once again and I thought I'd feature the lovely lady I've been married to for close to half a century. Well, about a year and a half shy of that but even so . . . When I have shown her on these posts over the years, people have commented on her beauty. And she was beautiful even on a Halloween night some years ago.
That was the year she goblinized herself to scare the little trick-or-treaters who appeared at our door.
Regular readers of this blog will know that we have become over time a "catless" couple. We have determined that at our age we shall remain that way. Except . . . One of our neighbors has a cat that apparently visits numerous homes in this area. Matty is an extremely friendly beggar who has found that he will get a small treat from me each day and a small pinch of catnip. He wolfs down the kitty treats, eats a bit of the catnip and rolls luxuriously in the remainder and then settles in on our couch for a nap. Yesterday he slept there for hours.
Today just a "cat nap" before taking his leave. But long enough for me to take his picture.
He and we both appreciate his visits, which have become daily since he learned he can get cat treats here.
My daily cat calendar page today features a beautiful golden kitty and what passes itself off as an Italian proverb: "Happy is the home with at least one cat."
Ah, Gentle Readers, here we are once again. Nearing the end of a week, a grim one for residents of the Bahamas. So we must gather ourselves up and venture forth with a tear in our eye but a smile on our face. Onward! If we can only trust the map.
You knew I couldn't skip along without leaving you a g-r-o-a-n-i-n-g pun, didn't you?
Now then, my friends, I want you to ride into the days ahead and have a wildly wonderful weekend.
OMG. OMG. I knew it was Friday but I forgot all about the Friday Funnies. Fortunately my long-time pal, Easy Ed, alerted me, asking if I was O.K. Ed, that may be debateable.
But at any rate, I'm up to date in Kansas City now and here you go.
Okay, Gentle Readers, I gave you a few extra ones this week.
I hope that makes up for my tardiness.
Now, please do your absolute best to have an exceptionally excellent weekend.
We've had some amazing "dark and stormy" skies lately but not a lot of rain. Except for that one day when it rained for something over an hour and our amateurish rain gauge measured 1-1/4 inches. Anyway, here's a couple of sky pictures, most favoring the top of a neighbor's house.
And, as a special treat prompted by LL (Lori Across Town) who mentioned Nehru jackets along with Madras yesterday . . . watch out!
Yes, that's me.
51 years ago when I was a 28 year old stripling covering the Republican National Convention of 1968 in Miami Beach.
As I told Lori in an email, I had a brown Nehru jacket also.
They bring to mind an old saying, "there's no accounting for bad taste."
And yes, I regret to say, I smoked cigarettes for way too many years before renouncing that evil habit in 1991.
Close your eyes, relax, let your breathing slow down. We're going back, back and further back into the distant past. Back into the mid-1970's. Yes, 40 or 45 years ago. To the era of brightly colored clothing. To the days of . . . . . . . MADRAS!
Featuring, from left to right, my dear wife Judy (aka SWMBO for She Who Must Be Obeyed), my ownself, and our friends, Tom and Lana Cochrun.
Doesn't it look like either I've swiped Tom's pants or he's swiped my jacket?
And that is NOT a gigantic spiff that Lana is holding.
It's Pampas Grass, wrapped and sealed in paper for her to carry onto the airplane ferrying them back to their home in Indiana.
It should make her the object of attention to her fellow travelers.
They've been vacationing in California and then visiting us in Phoenix.
Oh, those hazy, crazy days of summer many years ago.
For about an hour or more we had rain, thunder, lightning, wind and hail.
It's late this year.
It normally arrives on July 4th.
Late it may be but after week after week of temperatures climbing into the 90's, it's certainly welcome.
On our first evening in Phoenix, back in 1972, it rained for the first time in over 100 days (I believe) and everyone in the convenience store I was patronizing ran outside to stand and get wet.