I have no other ideas, other than aliens or sprites. Although it could have been those pesky elves who left me a bowl of strawberries and a check for $24 on the kitchen table Saturday.
I don't know.
I was going to get up at 5 a.m. and make some pig feed. Now it is 7 a.m. and the guy was going to be here around 8 a.m.
I suppose I've probably left the key on in the forklift and it won't start. I have to use the grain auger and I'm pretty sure the old 656 won't start. The 670 will if it is here.
Life is full of heart-break and disappointments.
I have spent the last half hour trying to find the lyrics to the song my grandfather used to sing. Something about the Polecat on the pole who did not know where he was at.
Nothing like a good waste of time to start out your Monday...
I need a manager. Someone to sell my feed and hay and answer the phone and keep track of the checks and deal with the public. Someone who doesn't hide or refuse to answer their phone and who does not periodically tell customers things like, "if you don't like my work, go somewhere else," or "yes, you are right, my feed is not up to quality but what did you think when you were buying half-price feed. Better go somewhere else..." and "if you want your hay/straw picked up in a hurry, here is a list of other people who will pick it up...."
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I never need to use an alarm to wake up now. Of course I don't often plan on getting up at 5 am either.
ReplyDeleteA smart man.
DeleteNot getting up at 5 a.m.
You never CAN trust a cat!
ReplyDeleteCat probably considered it an act of kindness. Thank you for that salmon that got switched up last night.
ReplyDeletePerhaps the cat switched the salmon?
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ReplyDeleteI’m a lonesome polecat, lonesome, sad and blue
'Cause I ain’t got no feminine polecat
Vowin’ to be true
Can’t make no vow to a herd of cows
I’m a mean old hound dog, bayin’ at the moon
'Cause I ain’t got no lady friend hound dog
Here to hear my tune
A man can’t sleep when he sleeps with sheep
I’m a little old hoot owl hootin’ in the trees
'Cause I ain’t got no little gal owl fowl
Here to shoot the breeze
Can’t shoot no breeze with a bunch of trees
Why can’t I lose these lonesome polecat blues?
I'm sure you ran across the B. Darrin song above, but this is my favorite!
ReplyDeleteThe Ballade of the Skunk
I hont de bear, I hont de moose
An' sometimes hont de rat.
Last night I take my axe and go
To hont do pole-cat.
My fren, Bill, says. 'Very fine fur
An' sometimes good to eat."
I tell my wife I get fur coat--
Sometime I got some meat.
I walk abont two, three, five, six, miles
An' then I feel strong smell,
Tink maybe dat dam skonk he die
An' fur coat go to hell.
By'mby I see dat skonk
Close up by one big tree.
I sneak up ver' close behind
An' tink he no see me.
Sacre blue! I tink I blind
Jess Crise! I cannot see.
I run roun' an' roun' an' roun'
Till bump in a goddam tree.
By'mby I drop my axe
An' light out for de shack.
I tink 'bout ten million skonk
He climb up my back.
My wife, she meet me at de door;
She sick on me de dog.
She say, "You no sleep here tonight;
Go out and sleep with hog."
I try to get in dat hog-pen,
Jess Crise! Now wat you tink?
Dat goddam hog no stand for dat
On account of awful stink.
I no more will hont de skonk
To get his fur and meat.
For if his pees he smell so bad,
Jess Crise! What if he sheet?
Mellinger E. Henry, collected by RW Gordon c1925,
ReplyDeletein Library of Congress, American Folklife Center
2471
Those were not songs sung by my grandfather...
DeleteThen there was Lonesome Polecat and Hairless Joe, devotees of that stupefying at any range elixir Kickapoo Joy Juice. RIP Al Capp.
ReplyDeleteI should investigate that angle further.
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