Over the last week or so, there was plenty of weather to talk about.
Well, a good porch gives you a front row seat to the weather and plenty to talk about it. If the wind is right "and the creek don't rise,' you can ease into your favorite chair or rocker and just contentedly sit out virtually any kind of spring or summer storm. Of course, ol' Morgan might have a tall glass o' iced joe to go along with nature's performance and a good read of his favorite paper.
Pete Seeger did a version of a fond ol' tune, "The Garden Song.' The lyrics go something like: "Seed by seed, row by row. Gonna make that garden grow. All you need is a rake and a hoe and the rain come tumblin' down...'
Well, the tumblin' rain sure had helped Neighbor Shirley's strawberry patch. She brought over the other day about two quarts worth of that dandy, fiber-packed berry that is a member of the rose family - fresh pickins' from her back yard.
Ol' Morgan, a fancier of whipped cream and also the non-dairy whipped variety (whichever happens to be in the refrigerator), couldn't wait to dig his spoon into the mouthwatering combination of berry and whipped topping that he had artfully blended in a bowl. That's good porch eating.
Then there's that saying, "Were all creatures of habit.' Ol' Morgan has once again born testimony to that fact. A couple of weeks ago, the light bulb in the hood over the stove blew out. Upon entering the kitchen, ol' Morgan would automatically head for the stove to turn the switch for the hood bulb.
You can imagine his chagrin and grimace when, after turning the switch, the bulb let out a quick flash and the darkness remained undisturbed. Undaunted, ol' Morgan moved a couple of feet to the sink over which hangs a rather long fluorescent "kitchen light.' With a bit of fumbling, ol' Morgan turned it on and breathed a sigh of relief.
Well, as you know by now, ol' Morgan does get around to things - in time. So, the fluorescent "kitchen light' has become the lumen power of choice - at least for another week or two. But, getting back to habits, ol' Morgan has caught himself even armed with the knowledge that the candescent bulb is blown out automatically going for the hood switch instead of going straight to the sink. Can't begin to count the number of times this has happened. Just like when ol' Morgan decided a few months ago to wear his watch on his right wrist instead of his left. Talk about habits! It took at least a month until he stopped glancing left instead of right, and then right instead of left when he strapped the watch back on the left wrist.
Not that ol' Morgan has nothing better to do than get confused over what's left and what's right, but he has fallen victim to another habit. Long, long ago, ol' Morgan when touring a dormitory of a prospective institution of higher learning, noticed that a number of young bucks had taken their tubes of toothpaste and had neatly wound them over the rails of shelves that hung over the sinks in the middle of their dorm floor. A gem of strategy: Every last ounce of toothpaste could be called to the front to battle tooth decay.
Now there is no shelf rail over ol' Morgan's bathroom sink, but you would be amazed by how much more toothpaste there is in a tube that appears to be flat out empty. By ol' Morgan's estimates, you can get about another week or two out of the ordinary tube. Simply roll it up from the bottom and give it a slow, but firm, squeeze over your toothbrush.
Over the wireless came news that the Gerber glass baby food jars will be replaced with a plastic cube. Maybe a better design, but can't you recycle a glass jar just as easily as a plastic one, if not better? Better get into a new recycling habit.