I walked Veterans Park this morning, first time in a while, and wondered if I have one more run to Prime in me? I hate to say it, but I may have passed my prime.
I just need a controlled steady path forward. Feed my ducks, and maybe those ladies will contact me about dog walking.
With the trees barren, structures across Shoal Creek come into view. This thing looks like a giant hanger on stilts for a big boat, or maybe it's a large tree house, with people living in it. You never know, here in the South.
But I know what it is, it's the shell of a big beautiful home on the creek, that got wiped out in the '91 flood. Elizabeth and her mom were telling me about that night, they were stranded at the church, couldn't get home.
Anytime I give out my address to a local entity, they all have a story about folks they knew, that lived on my little street before the flood.
I finally climbed on the scale today, been putting it off, and came in at 172, before Thanksgiving dinner. I was kinda shocked, my Base weight is 160 and when I'm fit, not drinking and active, I can get down to 150, the Prime number.
The last time I reached Prime was in Driggs Idaho six years ago when I turned seventy. Quit drinking for almost a year, obsessed with my diet and exercise, you could see my abbs!
I've hovered around the mid one fifties a couple of times since I've been here, just nowhere near Prime, and now I'm twelve pounds over Base.
I keep having wild thoughts about taking advantage of my triple-vax status with passport, and hanging out in Cancun for a week. But I'm twelve pounds over base!
And I'm moving slow, stupid little things bumping up against memory loss. I'm not fit enough for a Mexican resort right now, besides, who would feed my ducks?
Had a great Thanksgiving dinner this evening with Elizabeth and her family in the basement of a church. Food was delicious, and the company friendly and fun. I haven't done one in years, it was good.
I sat next to Madeline's karate sensei, a fascinating guy, energetic, takes his role as a teacher seriously, and sharp as a tack.
I loved Elizabeth's mom, she is a sweety and we had good conversation.
Daniel has been trying to buy this gun from his stepdad for years, and Carl finally just gave it to him. It's a 44mag Smith and Wesson stainless steel revolver, with a four inch barrel.
He said these were banned by the local cops, just too big and bad. You don't want a bullet going clean through someone and then through two or three people behind them.
Daniel said the gun is about thirty years old. We'll take it to the range someday.
Happy Thanksgiving!
It's a nice afternoon, door is wide open, and Daniel just left. The name Paul came into my mind, then I raised my eyes upwards and had a chat with my long gone stepdad Paul.
He blew an opportunity to do well in the role of stepfather. In the end, I knew he regretted it.
One sunny afternoon, late seventies, I got a call from him, said he would like me to come over and get my mom stoned. Shocked, I said sure. I was living in the Oakland California hills, and they were in the suburbs. I was there in fifteen.
We sat at the kitchen table, Paul had a breathing thing pushing air down his lungs, and he could mix shit with it. I then introduced my mom to a bong pipe, filled with some fine homegrown out of Carmel Valley. I was commuting down there, and knew the growers.
My real dad was a Texas boy that fought in WW2 as a sailor. Married my Mom at the end of it, created my brother and I, then split back to Texas.
As Paul injected vodka into his contraption, and my Mom and I got stoned, I asked them where they first met, I didn't know!
It was a bar in Southern California, Mom was freshly divorced with two sons, and Paul saw an instant family to add to his truck driving ambitions. Mom saw a savior.
It was amazing to hear them tell this story, in such a liberated state!
Unfortunately, it was too late for Paul and me. I had already been raised by this man as his stepchild, it was what it was.
In the end, it was the first and last time I ever got stoned with my mom, and probably the last time I ever saw Paul again...
I consume a lot of live media on my big screen and I've taught my original pre-release Amazon Echo how to control it. I hate listening to commercials and then having to scramble for the remotes mute button, so I just say "Computer, Mute Roku", and she does. When content comes back on, I talk to Alexa.
But I digress, I want to talk about local news personalities. I'm often up at 0400, and the four local Nashville news outlets are my first look at the world.
Most of the TV people grate on me, for one reason or another, so I decided to announce my favorite Nashville news anchor. Nikki Burdine, morning anchor for WKRN News 2, Nashville.
My eyes always hit the screen when she speaks. I am met with her amazing blue eyes, freckles scattered across her cheeks, with a down home country accent, that lands gentle on my soul.
This lady is the real deal. She lives in Nashville with her husband and baby, she's written a childrens book, has a podcast, and a great website.
My favorite lineup would be Nikki and Mary Mays, the cute little blond who did the weekend channel 2 morning weather, who is now retired as of Nov 1.
So there it was, and then I lost the thought. Happens all the time, lately.
Amazing ideas flowing from my brain, trying to make it into words here, before they're lost, forever.
Just made my old geezers cocktail, I call it the vodkalax.
I write Posts sometimes, that I think are brilliant, then blush and remove them as fast as I can. I've been blogging since the nineties and that's always been the case. Sometimes you get too real, and you need to back off.
Suddenly everyone here is my cousin, better not make any babies with them.
Having Thanksgiving dinner with Liz and Maddie in the basement of a church, shortly. I have not enjoyed a turkey meal with friends, in a couple of years, and looking forward to it.
Christmas, on the other hand... I spent the last one in the middle of the Caribbean with Shelby and Andy, had a fine time, and didn't sing a single carol all through the cruise.
This one, not sure, maybe get my daughter out here.
And I just got an invite to Farmer Katy's home for Thanksgiving Dinner next year! Wow, can you imagine that experience, where everything is grown and raised on their farm. Thank you Katy.
I shared my Discovery post with my summer boss Ricky, and he said his granny was a Williams. It then struck me, actually it's been floating around my old brain all morning, that I may have skin in the game here!
How ironic that I would end up in the town where my great-great-great-grandmother was born. She also lived to be two years older than I am now. I am blown away...
What if she was born along Shoal Creek, in the exact spot I'm sitting now. The way fate works, it wouldn't surprise me a bit.
I just discovered that my 3rd great-grandmother on my moms side, Elizabeth M Greenhaw, was born on this day in 1835, and died on Aug 4, 1914. She lived to be 78.
The lineage goes thru my mom, on her dad's side, my grandfather, who was the most powerful adult figure in my life, and currently my guardian angel.
Guess where she was born. Right here in Lawrenceburg Tennessee, 187 years ago, sixteen years after the city was founded. Wow...
She was buried under her married name of Williams at the Layton Cemetery in Yellville, Arkansas.
Her husband, my 3rd great-grandfather, was Joseph Nevil Williams, a confederate soldier in Company B of Stirman's (1st) Arkansas Cavalry.
And here's me in our Idaho kitchen sporting my new Tilly Hat.
I just bought the domain name "omjadvice.com". It will be a space where one person every evening, for a couple of hours, can text with me directly, and talk about anything.
If I help them along their journey, they can drop a tip into my PayPal, which is currently at zero.
The sad truth is, I have lost the ability to make it happen. A few years ago I would have been all over this thing, but not now.
I mourn the loss of my computer programming skills, they used to define me. Now I'm just glad I can keep this blog together, and vibrant!
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