Good Evening, Blog Pals:
The sun is setting on a near perfect spring day, weatherwise. The kids are playing catch in the vacant lot, delicious smells that waft through the window tell me a number of cook outs are underway. Folks walk by with dogs, baby strolers, on bikes/skateboards. One of the dogs on a leash was a little white mop type dog. The German Shepard a coupla doors down barked at it and the game little mop yipped back, fiercely lunging against its leash as if saying "lemme at 'im". Interesting. The streetlights havn't come on yet. When we were young, that was the universal signal to return home.
We were going out to the graves this afternoon but there was a crisis. Jethro was injured. Jethrene was trying to get him dressed for a birthday party for the child of one of her classmates and he squirmed away from her, fell backward and hit his head on the corner of the endtable. The poor little kid. He whacked himself pretty good. He bled profusely and Jethrene rushed him to the hospital. They stitched him up and assured his mother that there was no real permanent damage. But it was so scary. The poor little guy. His stitches (staples, actually) come out in five days. Jethrene reports he's up and playing and seems none the worse for wear. That could have been so much worse than it was and I know Jethrene is eating herself up with guilt. I tried to re-assure her that things like that happen and it wasn't her fault. Needless to say they missed the birthday party and Daisy May is all ticked off about that. Even so she can't get over the fact that "Jethro bled" and "he hit his head". Medical school, here she comes.
So we will be visiting the graves tomorrow instead. I'm still trying to talk them into a cookout but I am not making much headway. These people have no idear how to celebrate properly.
Well the streetlight is on, time for me to go in.
Have a good holiday everyone. Pause for a moment to contemplate those whom we honor with this holiday.
reguards
yer grateful for thier sacrifice pal
bugg