Spring training, perhaps

Happy as a hog in mud this morning by getting to work in the yard and work on a suntan for my bald spot. The ole bare spot got a might reddish yesterday from all the yard work.
Maybe I best start wearing a hat, don’t think a peeling scalp would be comfortable and people would think I have terminal dandruff or the mange; not to mention the chance of skin cancer.

Managed to get the mower stuck in the back yard yesterday. The Mrs. came and looked at the situation and gave me a little shove to get out of the mud. That didn’t work so she went around front of the mower and pushed. I rocked the mower back and forward a couple of times. Next thing I know, she lost her balance and over she goes. Down on her knee then down onto her rump. Water and mud soaked her jeans.

I thought it was funny and tried my best not to grin but simply could not contain the grin. Needless to say she said it was my fault because I was rocking the mower.

She got fresh washed again and off to the Woodlands we went and had suppers at the Marriott. The Blood Center of Houston had a large feed for the frequent donors of the red stuff. The Mrs. is at the four gallon mark and will continue until they say No Mas. She told me that the last time she gave blood that there was a fellow there that had given twenty gallons of blood; taken him 30 years to reach that goal.

Stuck my Purple Martin house up last week and now I got the Martins. They should find an abundance of the mosquitoes on Goose Creek but no way can they eat them all.

The mosquitoes around here get more than twenty gallons a year, how about at your house?

Got to go to the country club last week one evening in cocktail attire. Me and the Mrs. had a disagreement on cocktail attire and what I was wearing. She wore one of those “go to a wedding” outfits and I was dressed to go drink beer as my cocktail. Needless to say, I had to wash and all again making it two washings in one day. I refused to shave not that nobody could tell. If we had a pirogue, I would have insisted that we take it down Goose Creek to the club.

Guess you could say she won. I went in a white shirt, tie, sports coat, and then we drove to the club. There were guys entering the club in sports shirts and tie less.

Reckon they didn’t have a wife who read the “cocktail attire” on the invitation.

Lucky for them.