Saturday, Sept 12, 2015

It’s raining.

Let me clarify that.

It is pouring.

I picked a fine time to sit on the porch.

And a fine time to leave me Lucille.

What is it about rain that makes me tired?

I have an irresistible urge to head on into bed

To listen to the rain on the roof

To take an afternoon snooze

And that is what I did.


Sunday, Sept 13:

24 hours later.

Decided to head out to the porch.

I forgot it had rained.

I sat down with a brewskie

Wet hind end.

Oh well, who will notice?

What’s that in the yard?

A squirrel carrying a huge walnut, running like a son of a gun.

He almost tripped on a gopher who popped out of his hole, just as the nut carrying squirrel ran by.

The chicken hawk is back.

I think he is looking for a chicken to scoop up.

Sorry, C hawk, only cats and squirrels and gophers around here.

Wait, he might be looking for a chicken butt.

And here I am hanging out on the porch in plain view of the hawk, with a can of beer and a wet hind end.

I hear crying.

It’s the cat.

He wants out.

No way.  Not now.

You look too much like a rooster, and the chicken hawk is waiting to pluck you.

Nature is brutal out here in the boonies.

Oh oh.  Rain drops, falling on my head.

And in my beer.

I hate a watered down beer.

I decide to suck it up and pretend I am a New Yorker, ok Brooklynite:  Not for nothing, but I will not let a little rain ruin my parade.

I parade back into the house and get a bottle of wine.

The rain drops are having a hell of a time trying to invade my bottle.

I should mention it is because I am not having a glass of wine.

I am drinking out of the bottle.

Did you know that a glass has a much larger hole than a bottle?

All right, let’s not go there.

The squirrel is back.

Carrying a nut larger than a loaf of bread.

It’s a sign, I guess, that we will have an early winter.

The squirrel knows all.

He has a subliminal message:

I am squirrel, hear me roar:

Fatten up, folks.

Eat, drink and be merry.

And always wear your steel toed shoes when you are carrying a nut through the yard.

Just in case a gopher or something else pops his weasel.










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