September 6, 2019

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 6, 2018,Slo-o-o-ow learners.
Five years ago today: September 6, 2014, on dating younger women.
Nine years ago today: September 6, 2010, a deep, deep hole.-
Random years ago today: September 6, 2008, remember Cafe Manager Lite?

           Finally, a Friday I would call fit for retirement. A day when you do what you want, even if that includes walking the dogs and more work on the lawn swing. What, I didn’t tell you about that? Change of plans. No more planter, she wants to sit on it now. I’ll get you a progress picture, but not top billing. I don’t know from fixing swings, I just doubled up the slats. You’ll see. I tried as much as convenient to keep this day what a Friday should be. I’ll write out what happened, you decide if this is retirement. This dog goes nuts over dock bumpers.

           So the Reb could sleep in, me and the boys slipped out to Mt. Juliet for supplies, which included items like house numbers and wire cutters. This place has no house number, so we continually get deliveries for places up the street. We’ve been walking them over but folks, none of my neighbors look like Taylor. So I put up the numbers. Guess where I put them? On the yard swing.

           Up at Mt. Juliet, there is a swatch of trees between two subdivisions. That is where the mystery tree comes in. Surrounded by wild firs and dogwood, you get this strange tree with waxy leaves and fruit that doesn’t look like anything I could compare it to. Here’s a composite photo showing it is a good sized tree and the fruit looks like it wants to open. I’m stumped, ha-ha, seriously, somebody will type this tree instantly by those strange colored leaves around the fruit. I would be amazed to learn if this was a native species.
           Then off to the organic food market for munchies. The dogs now get cooked food and it is all non-GMO. I don’t put as much faith in the labels as I used to. And who trusts the ingredients list any more with the 16 different things they can call corn sweeteners rather than HFCS.

           By now, everyone in my troop was ready for a nap. Fast forward, because the Reb came home around noon and saw us zonked out, so tip-toed to her office. Next thing we know, it is 4:00PM and there went the daylight. We had talked about going somewhere, the obvious pick being the Capitol Grille at the Hermitage Hotel (downtown). Why not? Because it is primarily a steak house and neither of us will touch beef. They have their own garden to grow most of the spices and vegetables they serve. For those who remember the big prohibition bust where the bar was serving bourbon in teapots, this is the hotel.
           They have some salads on the dinner menu, so don’t rule this place out yet. That would be okay with me, to go to the finest in Nashville and have just the salad. If you are a steak buff, the smallest they serve is a 5 oz, which is two meals for me. Prices are comparable to Lakeland, Florida, the highest priced item on the menu is 12 oz ribeye at sixty bucks.

Picture of the day.
Liquidize by Pauline Pentony.
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           In the end, I talked everybody into staying home. The most I would agree to was, if anybody was still energetic enough after dark, to go to a coffee shop and work the puzzle page together. Don’t laugh at this as a pastime until you see us fly at it. This is quality time you cannot buy. We never got out. Instead it was yard time with the pets and a walk after dark. I’m an old Florida hand at working in the late afternoon to dusk. Ah, I hear somebody ask, isn’t there a nice stretch of weather in the mornings as well? Sure, if you don’t mind getting soaked in the dew.

           There’s the painted shell of the lawn swing resting upside down on the turf. That was supposed to be the end of it, but not so lucky. She treated me to a ride to the lumber yard to pick up everything needed to make this furniture swingable again. It’s actually a busy picture if you know what to look for. There’s the neighbors and dogs providing all the moral support I can stand . . . use, I mean, all I can use. That lawn swing had it’s fifteen minutes of fame today, being the focal point of the entire street. That, and some jacked up truck drove the street and yanked all the telephone wires down. Without that, what else were people to do but get outside and actually interact with real people? And they don’t get much realer than the Reb and I when working on a task together.
           So it’s good night from the blog that dares to bring you the real inside scoop of Tennessee suburban living. And just you wait and see how nice that lawn swing becomes. It’s my first lawn swing and I’m the acid test is when it holds the two of us together. I weigh twice what she does.

Last Laugh