It happens every spring. My love affair for 'dirt' must be satisfied. I attribute this annual ritualistic-need to the endless youth sandlot baseball games, little league games, high school and college diamond competition. (Note: I'll let you in on a secret if you promised not to tell any of my children for fear they might put me in a home. Here's my secret: I have my old baseball glove in a closet and every now and then, I take it out just to 'smell' the aroma of leather, dirt and sweat, which lingers on the glove.)
Yesterday, I returned from Lowe's and informed my wife, Gerry that I had Zucchini Plants, and Pepper Plants. I explained, "Gerry, Lowe's only had one GREEN pepper plant." She asked, "What color is it, Red or Yellow?" This is the same girl who asked me several years ago, "Have you noticed how dark it gets at night in the Lake of the Ozarks?"
Hey, we oldsters must keep busy, after all it's no coincidence that we get a lot of mail from Senior living centers. Recently, I opened a piece of mail that had large letters at the top reading: 'Apex Senior Center...A Senior Living Experience for the Spirited Individual.' That's code meaning: 'A Home for Forgetful and Cantankerous Old Farts!' That's us!
(Touch)
Oldsters 'Get Down!'
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