BASEBALL IS BACK!

The sun is shining!

The grass is green!

The Arizona Diamondbacks opening game of the 2017 Major League Baseball season has been played to a stirring victory!

Somewhere in that scrum is Chris Owings, the hero of today's walk-off win against the San Francisco Giants, who got the game-winning hit with two out and down to his last strike in the bottom of the ninth inning.

Actually there were many heroes for the D-backs, who came back from margins of 3 to nothing, 4 to 3 and 5 to 4 to win the game.

And the Giants' would-be hero, pitcher Madison Bumgarner must be thinking tonight "what do I have to do?"

All he did was strike out 11 Diamondbacks, pitch a perfect game through five innings and set a new record by hitting two home runs as a pitcher on an opening day.

He's in the record books but the Diamondbacks are undefeated, as my pal Baseball Steve just told me on the phone.

Then there's the Giants' new closing pitcher, one Mark Melancon, who the team signed to a four year 62 million dollar contract.

He left the field after his debut in the ninth with his tail between his legs.

Yes, baseball is back, the Snakes won on opening day and all is right in the world.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

Ah, Gentle Readers, another week is staggering to a close.

It's been a rough one but it is ending happily.

I burned some meat last night.

Ohh, sorry, that's an expression I learned when I lived in Texas a few years back.

Actually I did a stove-top t-bone steak, cut it off the bone, sliced it and added it to my hot salsa de pimiento and served us each up some pepper steak.

In otherwords, we celebrated.

And now on this Friday it's time for some gentle jocularity.

O.K. so they're not hilarious but they're droll.

And that's enough for this week.

Fair Followers of the Friday Funnies, I want you all to venture out of your secure environs this weekend and enjoy spectacularly a Fine and Festive Friday Full of Folly.

And continue it throughout the weekend.

And always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(uh-oh)

"FREAKIN' LUCKY"

The title of this post came from the BRD.

We had a visit today from the management lady who recently told us our rented house was being put up for sale.

Since we are not the type of people who can say "we'll buy it", we knew that we would soon have 30 days to leave and nowhere to go.

Our management lady . . . let's call her Hope.

That's not her real name but I don't want to get into any trouble here.

Hope told us she had been looking for a place for us and not having much luck.

Judy replied that we had been looking for smaller duplexes but they got snapped up before we had a chance to get in line.

Hope responded that she had one coming up because the man who had lived in it for 8 years was having to move to a larger house.

Judy said "We'll take it!"

Hope said she would have to have some painting and flooring done but suggested we give 45 days notice on the house we're living in and about to be sent packing from.

Later, when I hand delivered our notice to her she said she was probably going to put in hard flooring, like laminate.

I nearly jumped for joy because Judy had talked about how she wished we could get a place without carpeting, which is so hard to keep clean.

So, it appears that we will in about a month and a half have a new address.

The relief both Judy and I feel is amazing.

And you know what?

The new duplex is two-tenths of a mile down the same street where we lived for 12 years, up until an ill-fated move to Phoenix in 2013.

So, when the BRD heard our news she emailed us "You guys are so freakin' lucky!"

😼   😼

I HATE MOVING!

Actually what I hate is having my life upset.

Just when I get it to where I think I could live this way until I die, some SOB comes along and upsets my applecart.

So, I'm struggling.

We're packing.

We're divesting.

We're making piles of stuff that will either sell at a yard sale or be donated to whomever will take it.

Or go into the dumpster.

My biggest worry right now is that we have given 30 or so days notice on this place and we still don't have a place to go.

I'm thinkin' of a cardboard box under a bridge.

And then how would I get those marvelous meals prepared by SWMBO?

She has reassured me this evening.

She said it will all be okay.

She said we will find a place.

Come to think of it, she has always found a place.

She's good that way.

Maybe I should stop worrying.

Or find a bigger cardboard box.

BLACK FOOD

Many years ago we lived in Mexico for a few years and we loved the Mexican food.

Not Tex-Mex, Gentle Readers.

This was wonderful seafood, great barbacoa (BBQ, for you Americans), and delicious moles.

Now those last are not those critters that dig up your lawns.

These are MO-lays!

Wonderful sauces of chocolate and coffee and spices that are layered over chicken or beef or even just tortillas.

Delicious, especially the deep dark Oaxacan mole.

We went to a Oaxacan restaurant in Guadalajara that had become a favorite of ours with a group that included a friend who steadfastly refused to taste the mole.

She said, resolutely, "I don't eat black food!"

And the mole was pretty dark.

Nothing would convince her to even try it.

Her loss, I say.

Because Judy has found a small grocery that sells bottled mole that is as dark and delicious as that we had in Mexico.

And tonight (for the second time in a week) we had it over some baked chicken.

It may look like road tar but get over it!

It is delicious.

The chicken was sauced with the mole and brought to the table with some black beans and cilantro and a combination she has perfected of quinoa and brown rice.

Oh.

Oh.

And oh again.

Is your scribe happy?

Is his tummy full?

As we say in Mexico, "you betcha!"

FRIDAY FUNNIES

When times look dark and foreboding, it's the humor that gets you through, Gentle Readers, so let us continue our time-honored tradition.

All right, folks, let's get out there and have a fabulous spring weekend and always . . . . . . always . . . . . . remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(Hey, how do you feel about our moving, huh?)

ANOTHER LEAF

So, Gentle Readers, I've been dropping very subtle hints that a change is in the offing once again for these nomads.

We have been thinking about the future for several years as we groan into our late 70's and early 80's.

Planning on downsizing, getting rid of the accumulated "stuff" of years, nay, decades.

And now, it appears, our hands are about to be forced.

We learned on Monday that the landlord of the property where we have lived very happily for three years is putting it up for sale.

That means that once again we face the ugly prospect of moving.

A realtor was here yesterday to do a walk-through and a look-see and she told us that when the word comes for certain, since we are on a month-to-month lease we will probably have 30 days to vacate.

So that means the agonizing search for a new home that we can afford and the more agonizing packing, selling or donating the detritus of ages.

So that's it, folks.

We are not, as one of you worried, plagued by new health maladies.

It's just another relocation in a lifetime that has numbered the moves in more than a score.

I'll keep you posted from time to time.

Like the tiny leaves now appearing on the redbud tree outside my window, it is yet another new beginning.