AND DOWN I WENT WITH A THUD

Another fine summer's evening as I slipped out to my walking road. On the east side there is a row of white plastic-wrapped straw bales that have been there for over a year now.  There are maybe a dozen bales laid end to end running parallel with my walking road at the edge of a farmer's field.  About in the middle of that line of bales is a tall brown, spindly plant stalk maybe five or six feet tall.  It's been there well over a year now and once had yellow flowers on it.  I pass it every time I walk up the road and back.  Never knew what it was, so last night, knowing how to identify plants with my iPhone now, I decided to wade down into the tall grass ditch and make my way over to the plant.  The ditch was much deeper than I thought, and the tall, thick grass hid that.  With effort, up a short, steep bank, I was shakily able to get close enough to this tall, spindly, spikey brown thing.  My phone identified it as a biannual plant called Mullein and this one was obviously at the end of its second year, with only a bunch of small seed pods on it.  I took the picture and stepped back, forgetting the deep ditch behind me, and down I went with a thud, ka-boom, flat on my back in the tall four-foot grass.  I knew within seconds that I was okay because nothing hurt and all parts of me seemed to still be working okay.  Into my mind right away popped that saying, 'I've fallen, and I can't get up'.  But, I knew I could get up, and if I couldn't, I still had my phone in my hand if I needed to call for help.  With a rare chuckle popping out of me, I set about disentangling myself from the long grass and hoisting myself back up onto my feet.  I turned to the Mullein plant and said, 'Well, Mr. Mullein, that was quite an adventure.'  A minute later, I was back up on the road and on my merry way.  And, I'm sure I heard a little chuckle as well out of that tall Mullein plant behind me.  Ten minutes later, I picked up a coffee to go at Clinton's Tim Hortons and headed west through the countryside to my night sky spot on Tower Hill Line.  The big pinky-looking full Moon was already up off the horizon when I first spotted it.  Reaching my spot, I could right away see fireworks on the darkening horizon in the direction of Bayfield.  This display was more prominent than the two I had seen in the same direction the night before.  I stood leaning back against the front of the car, taking in the beautiful summer's night and all its fine scenery laid out in front of me.  The Moon, and the winking red lights of numerous wind turbines on the far distant horizon.  The lights of Clinton to my left, and the fireworks and tall communication tower between Bayfield and our Park winking its red lights at me as well.  I thought again last night on my way home, how really fortunate I am to have come this far and lasted this long after such a troubled life........... 

ON MY WAY TO MY WALKING ROAD SUNDAY EVENING I SAW THIS SINGLE PATH LEADING INTO A WHEAT FIELD....ODD I THOUGHT

WITH SUNDAY EVENINGS HEAVY CLOUD COVER TO THE EAST, I DIDN'T THINK I WAS GOING TO SEE A FULL MOON

 THE SAME CLOUD COVER OVER AN ALFALFA FIELD ON THE EAST SIDE OF MY WALKING ROAD

FINISHING MY WALK, THE SUNSET WAS BEGINNING TO TAKE SHAPE IN THE WEST

 LATER, WITH COFFEE IN HAND, I TOOK A COUPLE MORE SUNSET PICS

 THIS WAS MY FIRST SIGHTING OF THE FULL MOON

THE MOON PARTIALLY OBSCURED BY SOME CLOUD COVER

 A CLEAR SKY FULL MOON

Twas a warm summer breeze out of the east this morning as I made my way along my walking road, stopping to look at the flattened grass where I took my tumble the night before.  Didn't feel like going home after my walk, so I cruised a few country roads east and southeast of Bayfield before swinging north and coming into Bayfield itself.  I was there for a reason.  About a week ago, the Subaru began making noises, and I could tell those noises were coming from somewhere under the car.  A slight rattling sound when stepping on the gas and click/knock sound sometimes when stepping on the gas or backing off the gas.  A knock when I would start the wheels moving sometimes.  I suspect a brake problem so I popped into the Bayfield Garage.  The car goes in next Monday morning for repairs to whatever it is.  And, it probably ain't gonna be a cheap fix. The rest of the day just kinda floated away on me, and here I am again about to publish yet another Bayfield Bunch blog.  This post will be number 6,532.  It's no wonder they call me Mr. Blabberfingers.............

 MY MORNING DRIVE TOOK ME BY SOME SMALL CREEKS ALONG THE BANNOCKBURN LINE

I FIND IT UNUSUAL TO SEE SO MANY TURKEY VULTURES ON THE GROUND AND ALL IN ONE SPOT

Sometimes, I drift away and become lost in all the memories I find in my blog archives.  It happened to me today when I casually slipped back a couple of years to see what we were doing back then.  Kelly had just received some good news at London's University Hospital so we were on the upbeat.  I came across a post I wrote back in June of 2024 and it tells how we evolved from 'The Dreamweavers' to 'The Bayfield Bunch' years ago.  You can find this short story at the end of that post entitled, From The Dreamweavers To The Bayfield Bunch  

 A CLUSTER OF FLOWERS IN A WHEATFIELD

Al's Music Box:: Devoted To You by The Everly Brothers.

GROANER'S CORNER:(( A young man watched as an elderly couple sat down to lunch at McDonald's. He noticed that they had ordered just one meal, and an extra drink cup. As he watched, the old gentleman carefully divided the hamburger in half, then counted out the fries, one for him, one for her, etc, until each had exactly half. Then the old man poured half of the soft drink into the extra cup and set that in front of his wife. The old man then began to eat, but his wife just sat watching him. The young man felt sorry for them and asked "I'm sorry to intrude, but would you allow me to purchase another meal for your wife so that you don't have to split your food?" The old gentleman said, "Oh, no, thank you. But you see, we've been married a long time, and everything has always been shared, 50/50." The young man said, "Wow! That's commendable." He then turned to the wife and asked, "Aren't you going to eat your share?" The wife replied "Not yet. It's his turn to use the teeth."

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- What’s the difference between a turkey and a chicken? Chickens celebrate Thanksgiving.

- Why did the turkey stand on stilts?
Because nobody eats flamingoes for Thanksgiving dinner.
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A patient was waiting nervously in the examination room of a famous specialist.

"So who did you see before coming to me?" asked the doctor. "My General Practitioner."
"Your GP?" scoffed the doctor. "What a waste of time. Tell me, what sort of useless advice did he give you?" "He told me to come and see you."
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This guy was watching TV as his wife was out cutting the grass during the hot summer. He finally worked up the energy to go out and ask his wife what was for supper. Well, his missus was quite irritated about him sitting in the air-conditioned house all day while she did all the work, so she scolded him. "I can't believe you're asking me about supper right now! Imagine I'm out of town, go inside and figure dinner out yourself." So he went back in the house and fixed himself a big steak, with potatoes, garlic bread, and a tall glass of iced tea. The wife finally walked in about the time he was finishing up and asked him, "You fixed something to eat? So where is mine?" "Huh? I thought you were out of town."

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Al's Doggy World

Meanings::

Al's Art Gallery 

WITH A HEARTFELT LITTLE HAT PRAYER, I HIT THE SWITCH

 IT WAS A QUIET SUNDAY AFTERNOON AROUND THE OLD FRONT YARD FROG POND

I did make it out Saturday evening, and it turned out to be a fine summer's night.  From my spot atop a hill on Tower Line Road, as darkness fell, I was able to see in the far distance three separate fireworks displays.  One to the east, north of Clinton, and two in the direction of Bayfield to the southwest.  The two near Bayfield were very distant and faint, but they were there.  And, in the sky above, steadily on the rise glowed the big and bright nearly full Moon in all its forever mystery and mysticism.  It was a nice way to wrap up an otherwise long and tiring, unproductive day.  And, speaking of full Moons, don't be fooled by the term Strawberry Moon into thinking it is going to be the color of a strawberry.  I think some folks sometimes get fooled by all the color names they have for different Moons.  Just know that the Moon is the same color all the time, regardless of the month or what colorful name has been hung on it.  There is no blue moon, blood moon, pink, purple, red strawberry moon, or fleshy pink colored Moon just because some loony-toon pulls his pants down and moons the neighbors.

SATURDAY NIGHTS TWILIGHT ON A NEWLY MOWN HAY FIELD

 SATURDAY NIGHT'S ALMOST FULL MOON

Today was one of the first mornings I think that it felt warm enough on my walk to be wearing a short-sleeve shirt without a jacket or having to put on a long-sleeve shirt.  Hey, and it's even summer already.

 A SUNDAY MORNING iPHONE PIC OF PURPLE VETCH ALONGSIDE MY WALKING ROAD

It was a Sunday on February 8th of 2015, while boondocked in the Mojave Desert, Kelly and I, on a day trip, walked into an old, beautifully restored train station, pretty much out in the middle of nowhere.  The little whistlestop was known as the Kelso Depot, and it was in southern California.  Inside that train station remained the popular and well-known, in its day, by many travelers, the beautiful horseshoe lunch counter.  It was as if weary travelers, having just finished breakfast, had just left their seats to step out onto the train platform to welcome the incoming westward-bound train on its way to Los Angeles and California's Pacific Coast.  It was in this train station that I noticed a small room just off the lunchroom lobby.  It appeared to be a gift shop.  Now, I'm not much for browsing around gift shops, (even at Cracklbarrel) but I had a feeling there just might be something in that room waiting to meet me.  And, so there was.  I saw a rack of hats in the corner, and being in the market for a new hat, I walked right over to the hat rack for a look-see.  To this day, I couldn't tell you what else was in that gift shop, but there on the rack hung just what I was looking for.  It was called, a 'Breezer' hat.  Now, I have a slightly large head, so any hats I wear always have to be an XL, (extra large) and most hat racks or shelves usually have only small, medium, and large.  It was with an excited nervousness mixed with my usual pessimism that I saw a hat slightly larger towards the bottom of the rack and slowly lifted it up to peer at the label.  And, there it was......XL.  But, would it fit!!  I carefully put the hat on......and it fit perfectly.  And that was the beginning of a long and enduring friendship between a man and his hat.  And, I still wear that very same hat most every day to this very day.  Here is my post from that day long ago in Kelso, California, when my hat and I met for the very first time. Oh, And A New Hat  And, the reason for writing about my hat today is that yesterday, after not being washed since Kelly last washed the hat in her Mother's dishwasher in Spencerport, New York, half a dozen years ago, my hat was due for a darn good cleaning.  Of course, I don't have a dishwasher, but I do have a clothes washer, so you can imagine my great trepidation yesterday, when with a light load of other laundry, I carefully placed my prized hat into the washing machine and, with a heartfelt little hat prayer, I hit the switch.  I couldn't bear to listen to all the noisy agitations, swirlalations, or the flow of water under punishing pressure, plus the centrifugal force necessary to spin the bajeebers right out of my favorite hat.  Oh my, what have I done, I thought, as I stepped out of the house and focused my mind on something else.  Later, when the nashing of water and air was done, I carefully lifted the washer lid and daintily extracted my crumpled hat.  Oh my, what a forlorn and soggy-looking twisted mess it was, but at least it had held together and was not in a state of extreme tatters.  I carefully straightened it out and stretched it over an overturned salad bowl.  I then placed it on a table on the back deck, where the sun could gently dry it without being further mashed up in a rotating clothes dryer.  And, I am happy to report, that my hat is all clean and happy now and ready for another dozen or so years if I am.  Maybe it can go to a hat museum someday:))

Al's Music Box:: That Sunday, That Summer by Nat King Cole.

GROANER'S CORNER:(( A man takes his place in the theater, but his seat is too far from the stage. He whispers to the usher, "This is a mystery, and I have to watch a mystery close up. Get me a better seat, and I'll give you a handsome tip." The usher moves him into the first row, and the man hands the usher a quarter.  The usher looks at the quarter, leans over and whispers, "The wife did it."

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"Honey," said this husband to his wife, "I invited a friend home for supper." "What? Are you crazy? The house is a mess, I didn't go shopping, all the dishes are dirty, and I don't feel like cooking a fancy meal!" "I know all that."
"Then, why did you invite a friend for supper?"
"Because the poor guy is thinking about getting married."

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A doctor examining a woman who had been rushed to the Emergency Room, took the husband aside, and said, "I don't like the looks of your wife at all.” "Me neither doc," said the husband. "But she's a great cook and really good with the kids."

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It's paralyzing being a germaphobe; lots of places are really paralyzing to me. Laundromats have these baskets on wheels -- some guy will come in with a big bag of disgusting laundry, put it in the basket, and move it into the washer. And I'm supposed to take my clean laundry out of the dryer, put it in that exact same basket. I don't mind something having a dual purpose, but it's like, 'What's that big green box over there?' 'Oh that's a dumpster, and we also use that to store soup.'

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Al's Doggy World

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Al's Art Gallery