Tuesday, September 08, 2015

Our Labor Day is finally over – except for a small girl sitting on a home made mobile chair running up and down the road.

Really. A mobile chair.

Someone has welded a frame work together to hold a battery and an electric motor, hooked up a sprocket and a fixed ration gear. Put the kitchen chair atop the frame work and off the kid goes.

I don’t know if the kid has a sense of empty gas tank or not. It doesn’t go fast, but it goes and you aren’t peddling.

One other note from the weekend before I let it go: I didn’t go to the village center for the activities this year. Didn’t care to. But I was outside when the tractor pull took place – a quarter mile away.

Those boys made those tractors scream. Howl even. Just listening it sounded like some of those engines were reaching six thousand RPM or bette . With minimal muffler those engines were in pain.

Now I’ll get away from the village for a bit.

RGIII seems to be hanging on with the Skins. I got to wondering if what I though I’d been seeing  was or if I’d been mistaken.

An article from a sport writer helped me understand something I’d not considered. 16 million dollars if RG gets hurt – whether he plays again or no. Payable up front. And then there are the other years – 26 million.

And, the writer pointed out, there are other teams in the division that just might like to  have the young fellow on their teams rather than have him play against them.

One of the things I came up with myself would be RG giving away the play book. There is, I believe, a period until the end of Oct that would render some points against free agency or a trade moot.

Still, I’m pessimistic about the season for the team.


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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