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Posts published in “Day: March 9, 2004”

If it glows in the dark, don’t eat it…

Suppose to have gone fishing this morning, but the weather ain’t cooperating and in more ways than one. Put some new line on three reels the other evening, cleaned out my tackle bucket from last year and sharpened my knife that I take fishing. It’ll keep until next time.

A nice mess of fresh fish sounds good even though we had fried fish yesterday at the Pilot Clubs Community Fair in Highlands, good too!

One needs to eat more fish anyhow. Getting to where the chicken flu epidemic is spooking a lot of folks and the mad cow thing is too. Course fish have their problems too – if it glows in the dark, don’t eat it.

Eat more peas and cornbread I reckon; give me some tomato and a chunk of onion please.

Managed to get in the garden this morning before it started to rain and played in the mud a bit following the tiller.

Ground is still too wet for me to plant. As I was tilling, I looked out over my neighbor’s back yard, and flying above was what looked like a Purple Martin. More than likely a scout and it was looking for my martin house.

After I went over the garden, I tromped over in my 10 pound muddy shoes and put up the bird house on the pole. The plastic birdhouse is all cleaned out from last year’s nesting material and ready for a new batch of babies. I like to sit outback in an easy chair, drink my coffee, watch the purple martins and wonder what the poor folks are doing.

Had a small box arrive this past week in the mail. The Mrs. ordered four tomato tree starter kids. Although I have doubts about the things making, but I’ll give it my best shot. Says the plants/tree produce two pound tomatoes each and should produce 60 pounds of tomatoes. All I have to say is I have to see it to believe it. If they all produce, that is 240 pounds of tomatoes.

Reckon I’ll be eating a lot of tomato sandwiches. I’ll eat my words with it if they all make.

Would not mind putting up a few quart jars of tomatoes this spring. They stink during the cooking process as I remember. Back when the grown folks did all that canning back in Georgia, I stayed outside trying to find something to get into.

Lots to do as a chap: a woodshed, smokehouse, tool shed, barn, corn crib with the mule shed behind it to check out.

There was a large hog pen down the hill from the house, but only ventured down there when it was time to slop the hogs or on the way to the river.