Hiatus

Hello, my fellow bloggers. I have been suffering because my repiratory system thinks it's spring. I know that's a weak excuse. For those of you who missed it here is a poem from February, 2008. As a preface I wrote it to my wife. I was in a state of
Delight
You know we don’t agree on so many things
You like your ice cream frozen; I like mine softer
You like your music heavenly, softer and low
You like lights on; I like it a little darker
You like a mausoleum; I think of a simple marker
You don’t like my driving; I don’t like yours
You like open blinds and open doors

What a delight then when our likes are alike
Something we both embrace, like our Savior
Like grandkids’ precocious behavior

You like to get up early; I get up late
You like outfits; I’m happy if my socks mate
That’s why I chuckled today with glee:
The Giants won and Eli is MVP.

Would you believe I went fishing yesterday and amidst the coughing and hacking, I caught 17 fish and threw them all back? 6 of them were 18" and over! The big ones were blue cats and channel cats. But my bad hand and my lack of dexterity makes it a crime how I butcher the filets, so I quit keeping anything below several pounds in size. But it was fun.

A couple of days ago, I was fishing at the docks at McDonalds and a mallard flew through my line, entangling himself. Lucky I didn't lose my pole. He squawked and squawked and two big old swan looking things came to his rescue. I didn't understand at first because they grabbbed him by the back of the head like when they're "doing it" and forced him under. Two of them. I just wanted my line back!

I pulled him free of the two gay-bashing swans and lifted him up on the docks where he proceeded to sqawk louder and thrash about and jump back in whereupon the swans jumped on him again.

Now I could figure out he was saying, "Help, help! Some one's got me. I'm being snatched up. Help!" And the swans were saying, "Hold still you big sissy, we're trying to save your beautiful....{unintelligible}...and we'll use our peckers to get you free." So they pecked, and I watched, and they skirmished and I pulled him loose back on the dock. Every time I moved to grab him, he scooted back to the edge of the dock and I'd drag him back.

I just wanted my line back! Finally, he was held down long enough to get pecked loose. I watched in de(web)feat as he struggled away. "Wait, honey!" they called after him. "Get away from me, you big bullies!" he hollered over his shoulder as he tried to fly away. "Come back, handsome!" they screeched as they chased after him. Disgusted with losing my line, laughing at the spectacle I just created (Some guy watching came running, saying "Hold on I want to see him. Oh, it's a duck. I thought it was big fish."), I gave up and put everyting back in the car and left.

Did I mention the guy who sat and commisserated with me while I was fishing, before I went duck hunting? Did I mention it was raining and we were sitting under a cabana? My legs stretched out into the drip line of the canopy. "Did you know your pants leg is getting wet?" he asked me. "I'm fishing. How's it gonna look if I come home bone dry?" I replied. "Honey, I'm home. Boy, it's pouring cats and dogs out there," I mimicked. He laughed.

Well, dear hearts and gentle people, I've meandered enough for one entry.