Good Morning Blog World

I got an e-mail last night chastising me because I failed to mention that Friday the 13th came on a Tuesday this month. I stand corrected and I do apologize...I will make myself a note...and add it to the stack of note I have to remind me to do things..such as look at the string I have tied around my finger for some forgotten reason.

I just seem to forget to to a lot of things now-a-days. Maybe that is why I keep putting on the blubber. I don't remember if I ate so I eat just to be sure...

Speakin' of eats.. ERIC allowed he was gonna put Mary's Little Lamb on the grill last night. The post got me to thinkin' about eating woolly boogers.

I had never ate a woolly booger until I got stationed in Turkey way back in 1965. See, out in Bow and Arrow country where I was raised we figured that sheep was for making scratchy long underwear and for girls 4-H projects. NOBODY ate the damn things. But in Turkey if you wanted to eat off base you ate woolly boogers. I actually acquired a liking for lamb..especially that Shisk Kabob type lamb. Once in a while I would eat mutton..usually ground or chopped and fixed in some kind of a meat casserole and it was okay.

But one thing I did draw the line at was this stew that the Turks fixed up..they would take a big cast iron pot and build a fir under it and get the water boiling and add a bunch of different type of vegetables and some salt and spices and skin out some sheep heads and toss them in. Now when that pot got to a raging boil those heads would start coming to the top..and them sheep eyes would stare up like they was sayin' PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE... Damn. Enough to turn me against food for at least three or four minutes...or until I found the Shisk Kabob vendor.

Sweetthing just informed me that we both have appointments at five this afternoon to get our hair cut and I reckon I'll have to get my bead trimmed. I wuz kinda planning on just letting it grow some more..hell it is close to Christmas and I always get a kick out of going into Wally World around Christmas time in my bib overalls and a red shirt. There is always at least one little kid that pokes his Momma and says. " Look Momma! Its Santa Claus out of uniform!" Makes my day.

Some more jump start and a cackleberry and a piece of rye toast will make my morning. Y'all come back, heah?