Thursday, January 29, 2015

As noted yesterday, not a lot happened to excite the blood. Even making fun of Dog was only worth a few moments of attention. I did cut down a number of suckers around the Elm tree outback.

The sucker cutting was actually done in self defense.

You see, Dog’s lead, the one that’s extra long?, lets him go through the suckers and, while a smart dog, he isn’t too bright. He circles a sucker and the lead shortens and he keeps doing that until the lead is so short he’s stuck in the middle of the suckers.

Which only proves, I suppose, that dogs don’t know the difference between left and right, or clockwise and counter-clockwise.

The self defensive bit comes into effect when he does this and it is cold. Like fourteen degrees or less. Then I have to go out and free him up so the lead is long enough for him to make the door. I’m not always dressed for balmy temperatures like that.

I did notice that the Elm’s suckers were green and springy, which got me to looking at the tree itself. Ruddy thing is growing buds already.

Anyhow, cutting suckers is not what one may call a demanding job, other than keeping one’s appendages from getting in the way of the cutting blades, and my mind wandered to various topics.

None of particular note, to be sure.

But I hung up on counting the number of cars and trucks I’ve owned over my life time. As is my wont I added the year to the make (just to exercise my mind, you understand).

  • A 1948 Buick straight eight convertible. It had a good rag roof, leather interior and was canary yellow. I took it cross the United States. Purchased well used. I sold that car to a man in the service. He, and it, were last seen going over the side of a hill and disappearing into a gully in Great Falls MT.
  • A 1950 Cadillac. Perhaps a favorite car. A baby caddy. Two doors, Payne’s Gray. I drove the car around two blocks and took it back to the man I’d gotten it from, and he returned my fifty dollars. Well. . . I did own it for a while.
  • Then there was the Volkswagen. I purchased it new (that’s why there isn’t a year model. I have a convenient memory). I sold that car on the way to SE Asia. I wasn’t sure I’d be coming back, you see, and I hadn’t paid for it as I’d gotten it new. It wasn’t until years later I remembered that I’d left a scoped 30-06, loaded, and a holstered Ruger .22 revolver under the back seat. I’ve often wondered how long it took them to be discovered and what the reaction was. God knows what the reaction would be now. The VW was black. Nice car. I’ve regretted losing it many times.

There have been many more since, down through the years, but I’m hung up wondering how that SSgt I sold the Buick too is doing, if still alive. He was a Korean War Vet and a pretty good drinker. Every time I meet an American Indian with his name I wonder, you know, IF. . .

I also wonder if that car is still in that gully.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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