WAYNE AND BRUCE

I'll bet you thought this post was going to be about my brother and me.

Nope.

A different "Wayne" stopped in at the old saloon yesterday.

He showed up when the BAD came by to see her mother.

She didn't say where they ran into each other.

But it's always good to have the Duke in the neighborhood.

========================================

Later:

Oh, okay.

By semi-popular demand of Ball Points, here, and Mike Mulligan, on Facebook, here's the proof that the Duke and I actually DID get together.

It was back in the 70's when I was a tv reporter and I interviewed him on the patio of his home in Newport Beach, California.

I had more hair then and while Mr. Wayne was not sporting a gun, he did have that dog to protect him.

And speaking of hair, take a look at my photographer that great day, the famous Timmer!

Point of history: Timmer later got a blowup of that picture autographed by Mr. Wayne and had/has it on the wall of his house.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Oh, I'll bet you've just been sitting around fretting and worrying and moaning and groaning.

"Oh, where is he?"

"Will he be here?"

"Will he still have a sense of humor?"

OF COURSE, I'm here and I have a sense of humor.

After all, I read about the Republican debate, didn't I?

I didn't watch it.

I just read the autopsy reports the next day.

But let's put that to bed and get onto the real business of the day: Taylor Swift and that football player!

No, no, no, I mean the near-End-of-the-Week buffoonery.

Oh that wacky crew of extraterrestrial travelers!

Well, all aboard now for a very extraordinarily fine weekend.

And never forget to Keep Laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

( . . ohhhhh . . )

HALLO-WHAT?

Guess who's getting ready for the night of spooks, ghosts, zombies, screeches, jack-o-lanterns and hobgoblins?

If you guessed our little Sweetie-Pie, you'd be correct.

Having heard that Halloween is a special night for mere mortals to be off-put by black cats she's been gearing up her act.

But in the meantime, she's just a little cutie.

Cogitating.

Planning.

"Let me see. How can I be even more terrifying?"

CONTINUATION

I told you yesterday of the Beautiful Artistic Daughter's determination not to allow such a small thing as a broken arm to stop her.

Actually it was a bone fracture in the elbow of her dominant arm but that's enough for me to call it a broken arm.

She had it in a temporary cast and then a huge immobilizing brace.

But for this artist, who goes by the acronym BAD, "immobilizing" is not in her vocabulary.

So, let me show you what she's been doing in her recovery instead of resting.

That once flat black cylinder is now a bedazzlement of small beads and tiles.

She says it could be a base for a gazing ball or a lamp or . . . whatever you want it to be.

A thing of beauty.

And a measure of one artist's determination.

Her name, by the way, is Gayle Vanessa Bolton, and she can be found in Prescott, Arizona, USA.

BAD ADVENTURES

 Regular followers of this silly blog will recognize the BAD as "Beautiful Artistic Daughter", aka Gayle.

And recent followers will know that she took an accidental tumble whilst coming away from an appointment and managed to break a bone in her elbow.

Since then her dominant arm has been hampered by having to wear a large and unwieldy brace.

But she's a stubborn girl.

As stubborn as her mother.

She lives alone and is an artist but also somewhat of a pot gardener.

And when she decided her outdoor plants needed some protection from the upcoming elements, she assembled a sort of greenhouse on her patio.

Now how a lady with a broken arm, sporting a cast, does all that is more than I can understand.

But when I asked her she said "Well, I can't just sit around doing nothing."

But at least the plants are protected.

Tomorrow perhaps I'll show you some of the art she's been producing in her "handicapped" state.

WELCOMING FALL WITH A TORTE

 No, no, no, get your minds out of the gutter.

I didn't say "welcoming fall with a tart"!

Other than the NSFW thoughts some of you may have had, I learned that a tart is a contained concoction, like a pie, while a torte is more like a cake, being a free-standing confection.

So what I created yesterday was a plum torte.

The recipe came from the New York Times, which says it was printed every September from 1983 to 1989.

When editors decided that was enough they were flooded with letters demanding it be returned to the annual appearance.

And so it was.

Many adaptions have been offered but this torte from the Taylor Family Kitchen was baked from the original recipe.

And . . . It. Is. Delicious!

Taking Judy's warning that it might be a little tart for my taste, I capped my slice with whipped topping.

But I found it quite sweet enough and devoured my piece in seconds.

And then thought about "seconds".

But I resisted the thought for the evening and went to bed "with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head." 

AUTUMN HAS FALLEN

We made it once again. 

Autumn arrived just before midnight last night.

As I woke and checked the weather I see it is cool(ish) and damp outside.

The temperature at 6:30 a.m. is 61 degrees F. (16 C.) and the Weather Gods say there are showers in the vicinity.

One of my most faithful and consistent humor suppliers, Wacky Wally, sent me this meme this morning.

So the season of those insufferable Pumpkin Spice Everythings has arrived.

Halloween and even CHRISTMAS decorations are prominent in stores and some people are already decorating, with the spooky night still over a month away.

In one of my doctor's offices a small artificial tree has stood for years.

It is decorated by the office manager and members of the staff for whatever season or holiday might be approaching.

The other day when I was there I noticed it was decorated for the Fall Season.

It's clever and perhaps brings a smile to the faces of people waiting (and waiting and waiting) to receive their medical consultations.

Happy Autumn, everyone*!

( * - except for my friend River in South Australia and others in the Southern Hemisphere who have Springtime staring them in the face.)