Saturday, August 13, 2016

The heat finally broke for four or five days. The front brought good cool air and it is heavenly – if a male suffer may use that word.

The resident critters are frisky and happy with life.

The bad part is the grass needs mowing, again.

I’ve finally gotten the low notes somewhat under control on the woodwind. I turned the page on them and< Lo, ran nose first into the “Upper Register” stuff.

One should never be a student. Too many problems.

The big problem with the upper notes is they are strange to me, they don’t sound like they are right but try as I might, squawking and squeaking, as I do, the notes I think  might be incorrect are the only ones that sound reasonably in turne.

I suppose I’ll continue along until along as is until some one tells me that’s horrible, absolutely horrible.

N.Y. Met, never fear.


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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