Saturday, September 22, 2018

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There they stood: marvels of modern mansion design. Eight thousand square foot houses sitting on ten thousand square foot lots.

“I’d hate to be a gardener around here,” I remarked.

“Please, don’t start,” said Lorrie.

Might as well have told me not to breathe.

“Is that their house?”

The Santini’s house was situated smack dab in the middle of a pristine cul-de-sac that had been designed to accommodate five other homes of similar scale. Two of these homes, a French manor and an English Tudor, were already standing. Two others were under construction.

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A cock strutting in the yard Found a pearl in hay It’s only mine, he called the hens Everyone here away!

He pecked it once, he pecked it twice Before taking into beak He tasted, chewed and then spat out It’s not a thing to eat.

It’s stupid, useless piece of junk! He called in great dismay Why does man adore it much? It’s not as good as hay.

While some would claim ignorant cock Missed treasure he could have What value is a pearl to you If hay is what you crave?

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The passage from grade school to high school in itself sometimes can be awkward. Add to this equation the fact that I spent my elementary years in a catholic school, and now I was headed off to the public school system. I was scared s**less! Even though the two schools were just miles apart, to me it was like going to another county. You see in my old school the emphasize of teaching was not spent on the foolish ideas that the Earth was made up of gases and minerals, but rather on the important aspect that the Earth was made in six days and God rested on the seventh!

Imagine how shocked... Read More

At one time or another we've all been so scared as to scream. Our mouths open wide, jaws drop to our chest and the corners of our lips are about to split as we take in the horror that is upon us. We fill our lungs to capacity for maximum sound, expecting to snap eardrums for miles. All that air goes flying out in what should have been one blood curdling scream but instead we get a sound that's quieter than a whisper. Sometimes, this is a good thing.

We had some guests over one weekend and on the second morning of a wonderful time I was in the kitchen making breakfast when one of them... Read More

Sue. I once had a girlfriend named Sue. She treated me pretty badly. But not nearly as badly as the Sue who was about to come into my life. My life and that of my twelve-year-old son, Ben. This new Sue was running late for her first day on the job as a waitress at McCarthy’s Restaurant, and, consequently, was driving a bit too fast for the prevailing road conditions.

We had had a big snowfall in the night, and Vermont Route 100 between Stowe and Morrisville was a mess. But Vermonters don’t miss youth hockey games because of a little snow; so here we were, picking our way carefully... Read More

He’s pretty dead now. I thought he was dead already. But he wasn’t. He is now. So I started reading The Catcher in the Rye today.

There is a reason I'm doing this, and it's not just because he's some famous author who died. That's not my style. Actually, it's quite a story. You see old JD’s death reminded me of sixth grade. I had this friend, well not really. His name was Clark Shangle. My understanding is that he is dead too. Alcohol. I never saw that coming back in sixth grade. I figured if anything he’d live to annoy people at least two hundred years if not a day.

By the way,... Read More

Hank Paulson is now ready to enlighten us all about the near-collapse of the financial system, with his new book On The Brink. I kind of wish somebody had pushed him OFF that brink, preferably with cement blocks on his feet. But no, here he is, with a book explaining how difficult those times were for poor Hank.It was stressful. He suffered bouts of exhaustion and nausea. He read Bible verses and prayed for divine assistance. Barf.Here is one of my favorite passages, describing a conversation with Sarah Palin:"Right away she started calling me Hank... But for some reason, the way she said it... Read More

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