Sunday, June 21, 2009


A couple days ago whilst I was over to the Crossroads, between girls, I shopped for a new chill-able water bottle insert for my insulated water bottle pack. So I moseyed up and down the water isle. Gosh almighty I had no idea there were so many ways water could be bottled and labeled. A ways down upon a small portion of shelving amongst the hundreds bottles of watered mountain, spring, most to ashamed to even offer a source but labeled with fancy names who’s could a body choose. Ignoring fancy named labels having tried any impossible number of configured bottles what made no sense to me. I just wanted a simple bottle what simply filled an insulating wrapper. The wrapper was a well designed idea. Al the frapping bottles on the shelves, seemingly not one of them turned me on let alone was going to serve my purpose. That was until I spotted one seemly a gloriously shaped simple father of all streamlined bottles. It had of all names the one I drink their caffeine free products from, Faygo. A nice straight sided vessel with a simple label of brand and with a clear liquid inside I assumed was a black cherry flavored tinted water. Gosh, I was glad I had finally found something close. It were even close enough I took it to checkout. Son of a hitch, it was a whole dollar for the bottle of water plus a dine deposit. Holy-jumping-gee-horse-a-fat, with recycled roadside bottles filled with extra deep flavored swamp waters I could make a black market fortune selling genuinely country flavored waters. How many cases toenail poisoning do you want?
Home, I put my precious find in the refrigerator. Already a packaged water product it was ready to go. Yesterday, Taking to field to mow I grabbed a Root-beer and my precious new water bottle. A-field the root-beer was consumed first. A bit later I to a swig my Faygo water. What the crap? It was terrible. By the gods in heaven what was this throat biting crap. I’ve consumed smoother bourbon over the years. I couldn’t drink this crap for refreshment. I headed for the barn and something real, genuine country fresh sparkling 10,000 year old thawed glacier well water. I asked Frieda to try it. She didn’t like it either. Myself remounted, off to mow another fifteen acres, Frieda poured the bottle out over some flowering plants, rinsed and refilled the bottle with honest thirst quenching cool freshening well water. I haven’t yet looked to see whether the flowers have survived.
Slept good last night. Woke up to pain waiting for me. Hol’em smok’ems. Not exactly new, but different than the most recent usual. Between the low pressured weather and the occasional sitting it down wrong I continued to enjoy a few more ass bittened headaches.
For a Father’s Day activity enjoyment we run my ladies through the chutes. Wormed them, some got shots, and all got new fly tags in their ears. What the heck. Somebody aught to be gifted something. The ladies they got theirs. (hehehe) Two calves were ID-ed, tattooed, and tagged.
Done with the ladies for the moment I had to fix fence they busted. Whoopee, I needed something important to do. Then went on to fuel Ollie on the mowing machine, loaded hay for Bro’s girls, hayed some ladies in sickbay, had my lunch and cut five more acres hay this afternoon. Checked out Mike’s race car building/repair shop. His kid’s home from college making a Comaro ready for racing weekend after next. He (John) had it about ready to go and Dad (Mike) hit’s him with the kid’s need to rebuild the rear end for a sloppy pinion gear. There were four cars in shop: The kid’s, one being partially put together for client, another new car coming well along sitting in the wings and the start of still another new car on a shop dolly. It’s a busy place.
Back home I did my chores. Had supper and listened on the phone all the stuff I gotta do tomorrow. Have gotten three calls from my kids, three more calls from three grandsons.
I’ve run out of words. BGKC.

1 comment:

Paula said...

Hey guy you're spose ta take the day off for Father's Day. John didn't either. Guess thats country life.