TOTALED TOMATOES

Our tomato plant has shriveled and dried so SWMBO hacked it to the ground last night and plucked off the Final Harvest.

They make a nice tomato cocktail, I thought.

But as I was gazing on them today I was taken back.

Back to the 1970's, I'd guess, and a tale told by the legendary Mason Williams.

Turn up your volume and listen carefully.

el Visitante

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."

Even if he's just a visitor.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

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.

And always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(okay, you can bring a friend)

ThrowBack Thursday

Who would have thought that this refugee from a "hair band" . . .

(uh . . the guy on the right.  That's John Wayne he's chatting up)

. . . the pensive photographer on a picnic in the 1970's . . .

. . . would some day years later become this . . .

Yes, back in the day, Timmer was my television news photographer in Phoenix.

But a move to Denver, some 40 years of aging, a necktie and a haircut turned him into a respected vice-president on the verge of retirement.

I look at him now and marvel at what the years have done.

(p.s. He's a grandfather, too, but he's still one of my old pals.)

A GIFT

One of our neighbors offered us some veg from their garden recently.

The eggplants became Eggplant Parmesan ala Judy for dinner last night.

That golden flying saucer is a Pattypan squash.

Unless you're a native of the Poughkeepsie, New York area, where it is known as "Schwoughksie Squash."

I owe that last little fact to The Great Google, which also tells me the first word in that name is pronounced as "shwooxie".

The things I learn.

SO LONG, SUMMER

WHAT! ANOTHER HOLIDAY?