I have a few choice observations to make concerning marijuana. Since mankind discovered smoking, we have been using marijuana for various human ailments, including depression.
“Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good.”
During my 15 years of working as a financial arbitrage trader in Chicago and London, more often than not I found myself glued to the trading desk when lunchtime rolled around. Our runner, Jack, knew all of my favorite sandwich shops.
I have been amazed at how many folks have asked me: did I get the water back? The water came back quickly. Since I wrote last week about losing the suction, I have discovered what really happened. Robin was mowing and asked my nephew to move the hose. He gave it a yank and flipped it out of the way. But no one could see down in the bushes where the hose joint was pulled apart, thus running freely till the water went below the end of the intake pipe. I poured a lot of water for nothing until I discovered it.
Yesterday I met a fellow who expressed mild frustration at his inability to lose weight. I inquired about his diet, which consists of Five Guys frappes and bacon burgers, and his exercise pattern, which reaches its pinnacle when the TV channel needs changing. He did voice one victory in that he now only buys the small French fries with the burger and frappe – a life-changing diet indeed!
We had been having a wonderful week getting ready for the Fourth. We had a fun time at the fireworks store in Wiscasset and spent far too much money. Robin has been running a small, discreet overnight camping site, and some of our campers brought fireworks too. So everything was going smoothly when, suddenly, disaster hit the farm. The well went dry and we lost the gravity suction to the spring 1,200 feet away.
There are good things happening despite the atrocities we hear about every day now. One of the good things right now is my beautiful rose bush growing out next to the drive. I think it gives a new definition to the color red. Hope you like it.
Summer seemed a long time coming this year in Maine. Having finally arrived with its warmth, summer seems to make us do at least some things more leisurely to savor each day with its blue sky and verdant countryside. It is also the season when friends and relatives from “away” find themselves drawn to a visit “up North.”
I can’t remember ever seeing so many blossoms in the fields and roadsides. Going to Scotty was a pure pleasure, as each field I drove by seemed to have more buttercup blossoms than the last. Too bad for the hay though. Buttercups make the hay taste bitter, so my Bossy Girl told me once.
As a parent of six and now a grandfather of two, I am impressed at how early an age children come up with the complaint, “That’s not fair!” “That’s not fair; she gets a bigger piece than I got.” “That’s not fair; he gets to stay up later than I do.” “That’s not fair; they don’t have to do as much as I do.”
Dr. Alan Barker has begun to work with his patients who take narcotic medications for chronic pain to find better and safer ways to manage that pain.
I awoke this morning, Sunday, June 12, to the news on the radio that there had been a terrible mass killing in Orlando’s most popular gay nightclub and resort, named Pulse. The first reports were 20 killed and 42 injured, with many of them rushed bleeding to the hospital in the back of pickup trucks.
It’s been a quiet week in our hometown. The big mower blew a tire and we ended up having to buy two new ones. Pricey too. But with grounds as large as these, it is unthinkable not to have a big riding mower so you can enjoy the breeze whilst the grass flies. Though I have to remind myself that back when I moved home, I used Mamma’s push lawnmower to do these same fields. Cleared bushes with it too. I was skinny then and had more energy than sense when I planned out this place.
Many years ago, I came across a cartoon which brought a smile. A door-to-door salesman peeked inside an open screen door and observed a frowning 10-year-old lad laboring at his piano practice. The placid peddler asked the boy, “Young man, would your mum be at home?” The lad’s eye turned to his baseball glove resting beside him on the piano bench and grumbled, “What do you think?”