October 2, 2017
“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”
My goodness, I woke up and found that it is already October. Summer has sped by while I concentrated on my wife’s efforts to regain her health. I regret that so much of this past season’s sweet corn was uneaten and so many succulent Indiana tomatoes went untasted. While summer is making its last attempts to hang on the trees have already started to prepare for their annual hibernation. Soon autumn will be in full color as our trees and bushes go to sleep until winter passes by.
Fall is a special time for me. Our hectic summer is over and autumn provides a warm and nurturing environment. I again get to wear my favorite sweaters as I enjoy the brisk morning air. It is a time when my friends gather to report on their summer and their plans for the last quarter of the year. Yep, for me it is the season to appreciate and enjoy for in the not to distant future the weather will have me emulate the trees as I begin my frigid weather semi-hibernation,
FALL IN LOVE
F eeling enraptured, Autumn dances in the wind, then undresses.
A s bright robes fall to the ground, her passion paints the twilight skies.
L ike a nymph, she beckons, tossing her fiery auburn tresses.
L ongingly she sighs – September’s bliss lingering in her eyes.
I ndian summer days come; then they go.
N ights though chill, embrace her in indigo.
L ater, in November, her sweetness wanes.
O ctober cannot stay forever loving her.
V acantly she gazes through freezing rains.
E ndearments whispered – cease – when Fall loses ardor.
No spring nor summer’s beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face….
On a U.S. cruiser the officer of the deck asked the starboard lookout, “What would you do if a sailor was washed overboard?”
“I’d yell ‘Man overboard,'” answered the lookout snappily.
“Good,” said the officer. “Now what would you do if an officer fell overboard?”
The lookout asked, “Which one, sir?”
“He’s the kind of friend who will always be there when he needs you.”
Diary of A Blonde’s Cooking…
MONDAY: It’s fun to cook for Bob. Today I made angel food cake. The recipe said beat 12 eggs separately. The neighbors were nice enough to loan me some extra bowls.
TUESDAY: Bob wanted fruit salad for supper. The recipe said serve without dressing. So I didn’t dress. What a surprise when Bob brought a friend home for supper.
WEDNESDAY: A good day for rice. The recipe said wash thoroughly before steaming the rice. It seemed kinda of silly but I took a bath. I can’t say it improved the rice any.
THURSDAY: Today Bob asked for salad again. I tried a new recipe. It said prepare ingredients, then toss on a bed of lettuce one hour before serving. Which is what led up to Bob asking me why I was rolling around in the garden.
FRIDAY: I found an easy recipe for cookies. It said put all ingredients in bowl and beat it. There must have been something wrong with this recipe. When I got back, everything was the same as when I left.
SATURDAY: Bob did the shopping today and brought home a chicken. He asked me to dress it for Sunday (oh boy). For some reason Bob keeps counting to ten.
SUNDAY: Bob’s folks came to dinner. I wanted to serve roast. All I could find was hamburger. Suddenly I had a flash of genius. I put the hamburger in the oven and set the controls for roast. It still came out hamburger, much to my disappointment.
GOOD NIGHT DEAR DIARY.
Some people can tell time by looking at the sun, but I’ve never been able to see the numbers.
She said: When the icemaker in our new refrigerator broke, my husband dropped by the store to arrange for repairs. Because the sun was bright, my husband’s eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dim light inside in time to see a woman sitting on the floor examining carpet samples. He stepped on her leg and she screamed, causing him to jump into a display of fireplace tools that went crashing in every direction. Unnerved, my husband stumbled over to the service desk, and as he went to rest his hands on the counter, he flipped over a bowl full of marbles, scattering them everywhere. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, he announced to the wide-eyed woman working there, “My refrigerator doesn’t work.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she replied.
I honor my personality flaws, for without them I would have no personality at all.
One afternoon in the Arctic, a father polar bear and his son polar bear were sitting in the snow. The son polar bear turned to his father and asked,”Dad, am I 100% polar bear?”
The father polar bear replied, “Of course, son, you’re 100% polar bear.”
A few minutes pass, and the son polar bear turns to his father again and says, “Dad, tell me the truth. I can take it. Am I 100% polar bear? No brown bear or panda bear or grizzly bear?”
The father polar bear replies, “Son, I’m 100% polar bear, your mother is 100% polar bear, so you are definitely 100% polar bear.”
A few more minutes pass, and the son polar bear AGAIN turns to his father and says, “Dad, don’t think your sparing my feelings if it’s not true. I gotta know–am I 100% polar bear?”
The father polar bear was distressed by this continued questioning and asked his son, “Why do you keep asking if you’re 100% polar bear?”
“Because I’m freezing!”
Make yourself an honest man, and then you may be sure that there is one less scoundrel in the world.
A woman was shopping for fresh vegetables at a roadside stand. She picked up some ripe tomatoes and asked the price.
“Ninety-nine cents a pound,” answered the owner.
“What? The stand down the road only charges seventy-nine cents a pound!” she exclaimed.
“Then why don’t you shop there?”
“They don’t have any.”
“Well, when I don’t have any I charge seventy-nine cents, too!”
I can smell autumn dancing in the breeze.
The sweet chill of pumpkin and crisp sunburnt leaves.
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies. The editor is somewhat senile.
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