Another rather nice night for sound sleep'n. Temps got down to 53 degs last night after a blistering 70 deg day. Sun has showed it face this morn'n, but after all these sunless days we been hav'n, I ain't expect'n it to last. But you ain't gonna hear no complain'n from Billy Bob's house.
Me an' Sadie Mae was sit'n there on the couch just look'n at each other. We was bored. She says...."let's go for a ride". We jumps in "that jeep" and heads north. I had but one thing on my mind....propane sell'n place. Upon arrival in Zapata, Texas, there weren't no propane sell'n place. A quick stop at Falcon Lake Tackle shop revealed that Amerigas Propane was bulldozed to the ground a year ago. "Now what ya gonna do Billy Bob"???
Cruised around town for a bit....just look'n ya know and then we headed back south to Falcon Heights. Ask'n round a bit, we found a propane place just down the road a piece in Roma, Texas. When I pulls up, there ain't nuttin but a big ol' propane tank behind a chainlink fence an' a old, I'm talk'n old here, propane truck sit'n out by the street. Wonder if'n that thing still runs. Apparently it does 'cause the feller tells me he delivers propane every Thursday to the Community Park in Falcon Heights. That were I are camped ya know.
To celebrate, in anticipation of a full propane tank, I cranks Mr Heater up on full bore....18,000 btu's of romp'n stomp'n heat. Had to open the door it got so hot in here.
There went the sunshine....damn, that were quick.
When it comes to writ'n stuff, I think of my favorite all time writer Samuel Langhorne Clemens (November 30, 1835 – April 21, 1910). I'm think'n he put his childhood dreams to paper in all the fictional characters he wrote about. Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn....they my favorite. My life kind of revolves around some them characters in some way or another.....the things what I done in my lifetime an' the ways I did 'em. I ain't a writer like what he was no shape or form, but I do try to put some "spice" in what I write. I use a language what most everbody can understand without the use of a dictionary. My spell'n is so so thanks to the invention of spell checker. All my writ'n is through memory, all the way back to the early age of 5 year old. What can I say....I like to write. A book? Oh hell no, too old for that.
Now that reminds me the time....I were in the 1st grade in a little country school an' we was talk'n all bout farm critters an' the sounds they make. You know, cows, chickens, horses....pigs, stuff like that. The nice lady teacher tell me to come up front an' make a sound like a pig. A pig??? Ain't no way I gonna do that with all them pretty little girls look'n at me. Why I would be the laugh'n stock of the school. Pig....nope, ain't gonna do it. That was the day that nice lady teacher done "switched" my britches. Make me sit on a stool in the corner. But I never did make that god awful sound what a pig make. "Oink oink....oh hell no.
Me an' Sadie Mae was sit'n there on the couch just look'n at each other. We was bored. She says...."let's go for a ride". We jumps in "that jeep" and heads north. I had but one thing on my mind....propane sell'n place. Upon arrival in Zapata, Texas, there weren't no propane sell'n place. A quick stop at Falcon Lake Tackle shop revealed that Amerigas Propane was bulldozed to the ground a year ago. "Now what ya gonna do Billy Bob"???
Cruised around town for a bit....just look'n ya know and then we headed back south to Falcon Heights. Ask'n round a bit, we found a propane place just down the road a piece in Roma, Texas. When I pulls up, there ain't nuttin but a big ol' propane tank behind a chainlink fence an' a old, I'm talk'n old here, propane truck sit'n out by the street. Wonder if'n that thing still runs. Apparently it does 'cause the feller tells me he delivers propane every Thursday to the Community Park in Falcon Heights. That were I are camped ya know.
To celebrate, in anticipation of a full propane tank, I cranks Mr Heater up on full bore....18,000 btu's of romp'n stomp'n heat. Had to open the door it got so hot in here.
There went the sunshine....damn, that were quick.
When it comes to writ'n stuff, I think of my favorite all time writer Samuel Langhorne Clemens (November 30, 1835 – April 21, 1910). I'm think'n he put his childhood dreams to paper in all the fictional characters he wrote about. Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn....they my favorite. My life kind of revolves around some them characters in some way or another.....the things what I done in my lifetime an' the ways I did 'em. I ain't a writer like what he was no shape or form, but I do try to put some "spice" in what I write. I use a language what most everbody can understand without the use of a dictionary. My spell'n is so so thanks to the invention of spell checker. All my writ'n is through memory, all the way back to the early age of 5 year old. What can I say....I like to write. A book? Oh hell no, too old for that.
Now that reminds me the time....I were in the 1st grade in a little country school an' we was talk'n all bout farm critters an' the sounds they make. You know, cows, chickens, horses....pigs, stuff like that. The nice lady teacher tell me to come up front an' make a sound like a pig. A pig??? Ain't no way I gonna do that with all them pretty little girls look'n at me. Why I would be the laugh'n stock of the school. Pig....nope, ain't gonna do it. That was the day that nice lady teacher done "switched" my britches. Make me sit on a stool in the corner. But I never did make that god awful sound what a pig make. "Oink oink....oh hell no.
Sunshine????? Whats dat?????
ReplyDeleteYou, my friend, are an excellent writer, and yes, the American Short Story - Clemens, et al, were always my favorites, too. Oink? Rings a bell. Boy, did we ever have some unconventional teachers back in the '40's & '50's!
ReplyDeleteRandall
I, for one, just love your writings. Keep it coming and I will keep reading it and loving it.
ReplyDeleteGlad you found out about the propane delivery...makes a big difference in gas mileage!
ReplyDeleteLike the others, I like your stories, mainly 'cause I had some experiences very close to yours. Just keep on doing what you do!
The moon is on the rock...
ReplyDeleteAt least you had a stool to sit on. The teachers used to make us stand up in the corner.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteTry number 2. Tried any golf courses down there.
ReplyDeleteIs that Sadie Mae in your picture? I was hoping that you would post a picture of her!
ReplyDeletePatty (Blogless)
Growing up Mr. Mark Twain's boyhood home was 3 blocks from mine. I lived the life as a boy growing up on the banks of the Mississippi.
ReplyDelete