A.G.E's Joint

I had a dream the other night. It was not unlike other dreams. Light fog backlit with the sun stretched across a verdant field, a pasture really. But no horses or cattle grazed amongst the grass. Instead, the landscape was dotted with churches. Not small chapels these, but great huge behemoths. Alternating buildings of brick, clapboard and glass with steeples spreading upward toward the sun hoping for favor from above. Congregations of bees flowed to and fro between the churches. They held the pollen and nectar, but they could never decide which was right.                                         Curiosity is lust for the mind, so I floated over scene this much like the bees of the congregation. I entered the first church, with its stone edifice standing proudly, with trepidation.   I am in need of supplication of my fears. The keeper of the stamen smiled and held out his plate, but I have no tithe or pollen to give. With a look of disdain, he asks me to come clean of my sin and

Deep darkly I dream of Losing your dark nightie.   “Here we are all, by day; by night, we're hurled By dreams, each one, into a several world.”  Nostalgia and dreams of the past. The subject comes up in weird ways. Sometimes it's just a song: Or dreaming when TV only had three channels and no remote control: I tell you, it was hard work hauling my fat butt off the couch without spilling the popcorn. And the spilled drinks.... But today, it is food. Scanning Facebook (an addiction worse than heroin), I was directed to an article on "50 Foods You Should Eat Before You Die." A BBC rundown of the essential food everyone should have consumed, whether I liked it or not. I was pleased to find out I had eaten 46 of the foods, thanks to living in an area with an lots of recent immigrants and great restaurants. Most of what ate was delicious. If the Grim Reaper should come tonight, I should feel pretty fulfilled. But one of the foods that I

Hey, Heidy and Howdy! It's your old pal, Harry Handy, the randy dandy DJ  here on WOFT, Old Farts Radio, the jumping jukebox for the Geritol generations. We used to say "Don't trust anybody over 30." Now , it's "Everyone is half my age!" I've been off the air for a while. Got involved a little legal kerfuffle with my second ex concerning running with scissors. It sounded something like this... Yeah. pretty bad and a sharp object lesson for sure. And now a word from our sponsor. Yes, that is Betty White when she was young and sexy. Now, she's old and...old And so are we. Remember when our theme song was: Especially after finally hitting the home run? She insisted on cuddling and watching the stars when all you wanted to do was get something to eat. Well, we know how that went. But you have to say she turned out to be the spitting image of her mother. And now your daughter is fighting that same breeze from down under h

Walking with the best Equipment money can buy. Gravitation can not Be held responsible For missiles in the sky. Trophy she is Or  was Like the other toys Child gets bored And tosses her aside. Cherchez la femme Happiness A concept Needing to be reorganized. As it drifts away Smog in the breeze.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic-Dave Coon Pic-Sallon Newlove Pic guesses: Confined, Jail, In my own mind, Inside the lines, School, Conformity

Hello. I’m Norm Abrams, and welcome to The New Yankee Workshop. This season, we have been featuring projects dealing with problems commonly found by professional woodworkers and cabinet makers.   One of those problems is delinquent accounts. Cash flow is important with small businesses like custom millwork shops. It is vital that you get paid on time so that you can move on to the next project. We asked our viewers to come up with suggestions that would help alleviate this pressing problem.   One, a Mr. Anthony Soprano, of Elizabeth, NJ, has come up with a very novel method to take care of this irritating mess, this beautiful cherry wood hope chest.    Mr.   Soprano writes: “I run a medium sized shop, BadaBing Customs here in Elizabeth, and we were always having issues with slow paying accounts. My prior attempts to clean up the receivables failed miserably until I saw this box in the car repair business next door. After speaking with Ducks, the owner of the place,

4:29 AM, Monday morning. Or as we like to call it at my house, way damn too early. I'm waiting for my wife to get ready for work. So, I waste my time surfing Facebook and the various news sights. The smell of fresh brewed coffee trying its best to wake me up. I add a bit of sugar and taste the bittersweet brew as it warms my insides. You wonder why I do this? Well, for one, my wife doesn't drive anymore due to medical reasons. But, she still has to get to work. Therefore, here I am. I hear the dryer tumble with the load of laundry my night owl son put on before he went to bed, probably an hour before we woke up. Ah, it just shut off, so now I can think about what I really am writing. I usually leave the computer on so I don't have to wait for it to boot. It seems to be more efficient. It is almost as grumpy as I am to be woken up in a room where you can't see the shoes lined up at the front door. I call up the local news station. Long ago, I named their news &

A hot, humid day in Savannah and a working girl is found dead on one of the squares. It is a show killing meant to terrify and confuse and it grabs your attention. This book hits the ground running and doesn't stop until the finish line. This is the third book in the Elise Sandberg series and like the others, the moss draped city of Savannah stands out as a willing accomplice. Well worth your time. <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24833794-pretty-dead" style="float: left; padding-right: 20px"><img alt="Pretty Dead" border="0" src="https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1432756814m/24833794.jpg" /></a><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24833794-pretty-dead">Pretty Dead</a> by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4327517.Anne_Frasier">Anne Frasier</a><br/> <br /><br /> <br/><br/> <a href="https://www.g