roll over beethoven

The crackhead extremely strange disability recipient who has seizures of grandure always picks the first warm day in spring to move his shit out to the porch and jam. This is the one whose cousin buddy almost slung me and BG out in the mud from the bed during the "big one", with his infant in the back seat. Ya'll get the picture. We heard they were leaving shortly after Oscar came to live with us with that gaping hole in his back. He had followed the pecan man around for weeks just to have some company. BG spotted the wound first and after we watched and nursed and such, he got a lot better. Then one night, he and Sam went out for their nightly constitutional and he came back with an identical wound, fresh. Same spot. Talk about some ritualistic nightmares. Anyway, it all turned out good and Oscar sleeps with whomever has room at that point in time. Now we've just got to get Beethoven out of there before somebody gets hurt. One night there were six cop cars up in there at the dead end because he "didn't want to" go to the hospital after losing it. His woman has been around a few times asking for use of the phone or a spare key, which I certainly don't have. There are three small children who are rarely heard playing outside even though it's the perfect spot to run and squeal.

There are times when I feel really sorry for me and mine and how life sucks a big fat one on occasion. But not many times. Most days I'm grateful for the goodness and light that blesses me each every day and take Xanax occasionally to deal with the sad and evil parts. Most every single day, some angel comes along and reminds me that life is, while oftentimes hard and filled with sorrow...that it is the journey that counts. Life is a highway and all that. I walked into our almost clean house this afternoon and could have cried just because I didn't have to sweep the floors. Faith's body makes a really good foot rest for a tired old gal like me. She's big enough to provide back support as well! Bless ALL our hearts ^j^

It's almost 6:30, which means 7:30 in real DST so there ya go. I'll be up and at 'em dragging my old smart ass out of the bed before any sort of decent time . As fate would have it, I have fallen in friend with a guy who loves nothing better than spending weekend nights here so he can be closer to the golf course. Those people start early, if you know what I mean. He lives in the flats close to the Mississipi..born and raised there where his daddy helped to construct the big bridge over to Missouri from Tennessee. Back in the day, there was nothing but a ferry at Boothspoint. I'm proud to say that I've enjoyed many a beer with people on the banks of rivers and such. Can't beat a cold beer and a fishin' pole. Once upon a time my husband's friend Gene and he set out into the riverbed in somebody's boat and a gun or two. And probably some beer. The boat had a motor and Geno proceeded to jump a log pitching his weapon into the snaky bottoms of Forked Deer back water. I think there was a metal detector involved, but I'm not sure. Get back to ya after I check with CNN.

Over and out from pecan lane.