Grandpa Tell Me About the Good Old Days

          I went into town this morning and there was a song on the country station called “Grandpa tell me about the good old days.” After the song the female DJ told her little story about when she was a little girl her mother would send her to a small farm town during the summer where her two grandpas lived. She would listen to their stories about those good old days. She said that in every picture she has of both grandpas, they are sitting with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other hand. It just reminded me of my own grandpa.

          On another note, when I was in the car today I was going to get myself some beer and some wine for Joyce. She has been drinking that gourmet box wine of the white zinfandel variety. The store was out of the zinfandel variety so I had to get some red sangria. I knew she had some last summer and enjoyed it, but I wondered all the way home if that would be ok with her. It turned out as I was rolling down the drive on my way to the store she was thinking she should have mentioned she would like to switch to some sangria for a change. It is great when someone you have lived with and loved for so many years thinks the same way.

          Today I celebrate the humble ditch lily.

          These hollyhocks were given to me as seeds 25 years ago. I have never done any more than the original planting. They have propagated here and there on the farm and every year I think of the one who gave them to me.