OLD ADAGE---"If it's worth owning once, then for heaven's sake, it's worth keeping always!"
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On a recent cold, breezy spring day
Coupla weeks ago, I was up in my attic.
Doing a little "clean-o;"
(I had the old Electrolux going...
I had discovered that it would work
If you'd "duct tape" the electric
Cord at a weird angle; it'd then function!)
And downstairs I heard the wife shout:
"It's Country Boy Bo-o-ob---he's he-er-ere!"
"C'mon up Bob! I'm glad to see you!
Was just thinkin' about you!
I'll tell you all about it!"
Well, as you can see
I'm caught up in
The "old-house-cleaning-in-the-attic
thing."
I shoulda known this was comin'---
I've had too many visitors
Who've heard of my cozy attic
And want to see it...and get me to talking;
See, my mouth "run's off"
When I'm up here in attic heaven
And I "tell my guts,"
As my mama used to say!
So the wife sees all those visitors,
coming and going, and ergo, decides
"You've got to clean your attic, Buster!"
We old married men know: when they
Say "Buster," they mean business!
C'mon over here, Bob---
You take the rockin' chair again...
Please don't step on those Lincoln Logs
And my Tinkertoy windmill;
You see---and this is silly I know,
But one really cold day last winter
I got to remembering when I was
ten years old---and in La Casita school
and got sick---and had to stay home.
As I was remembering old times
I felt a little puny anyway
So I decided to recreate those times
from grade school
Up here in my attic.
I mean, we can't waste these toys, can we?
They need a workout too, now and then!
So I threw a couple of chunks of wood
Into my little woodstove,
(It gets hot quickly)
And I dug out of the little fridge---
A big twelve ounce bottle of NEHI grape.
Couldn't afford those two dollar
DELAWARE PUNCHES from Old Mexico
Anymore.
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Then I proceeded to just dump my Lincoln Logs
Right on my beautiful wood floor...
(Nicer than most attics!)
The Tinkertoys followed!
Then I GOT DOWN THERE---right with 'em!
O, I felt ten years old again (mentally anyway)
And back in the forties! It was grand!
I was just a little ticked, however
When finishing my log cabin---
Someone, over the years
Had lost my "ten by" log,
Equivalent in carpenter-talk
to a thirty foot log.
That's why my cabin is sagging.
Bob, have you ever noticed
Since you got grown
How funny Tinkertoy windmills look?
Well, it was fun anyway,
Tho' I was slightly admonished
By the wife.
See, I called her on our new smart phones---
My ring on her phone is: "quack, quack, quack."
(When she hears that "quack-quack,"
it'd better be good!)
I said: "Help, help! Help me up!"
I felt a little puny anyway
So I decided to recreate those times
from grade school
Up here in my attic.
I mean, we can't waste these toys, can we?
They need a workout too, now and then!
So I threw a couple of chunks of wood
Into my little woodstove,
(It gets hot quickly)
And I dug out of the little fridge---
A big twelve ounce bottle of NEHI grape.
Couldn't afford those two dollar
Anymore.
Then I proceeded to just dump my Lincoln Logs
Right on my beautiful wood floor...
(Nicer than most attics!)
The Tinkertoys followed!
Then I GOT DOWN THERE---right with 'em!
O, I felt ten years old again (mentally anyway)
And back in the forties! It was grand!
I was just a little ticked, however
When finishing my log cabin---
Someone, over the years
Had lost my "ten by" log,
Equivalent in carpenter-talk
to a thirty foot log.
That's why my cabin is sagging.
Bob, have you ever noticed
Since you got grown
How funny Tinkertoy windmills look?
Well, it was fun anyway,
Tho' I was slightly admonished
By the wife.
See, I called her on our new smart phones---
My ring on her phone is: "quack, quack, quack."
(When she hears that "quack-quack,"
it'd better be good!)
I said: "Help, help! Help me up!"
(Off the floor!)
She said: "Okay, but the next time it'll be
911 for you, Buster!"
(Uh-oh, there's that Buster again.)
You know, it's no wonder
people like attics!
In a world with crazy stuff
Going on every day,
I can come up here, read a favorite book,
Watch an old movie, do some writing
at that old beat up desk, or take a nap!
On a windy day, the old mulberry branch
makes rubbing noises against the house and it's
Almost like it is scratching your back!
And there's something special about attic light;
It seems like it has been filtered...it is a gentle light
Spilling in the window, like a reverent spotlight,
Bathing every piece of the stuff of your life...
With nice light and memories...
Every piece has a story!
Over there in the corner, Dad's old canvas
Hunting and fishing coat---once an olive drab color---
Now faded---is folded and lying on his old
Once silver-colored metal (beat-up) fishing tackle box.
One day, when he was about eighty-five
He said to me: "My lawn guy wants to buy
my fishing tackle; if you want any of it first,
it's out in the garage."
Bob, I'll tell you, The lawn guy had slim pickins'
For I loaded up most of it myself,
even the minnow bucket!
That tackle box---that was once so pristine
and shiny silver...
is now dented, deformed, discolored, stained,
and I think that's dried mud all over it!
I'll tell you, you've got to be a serious fisherman
To own a miraculous veteran-of-a-tackle-box
like that one!
You ought to see the interior---
It's piled up with all manner
of lures, plugs, spoons and flies...
Almost as if you saw a storm coming
Maybe with lightning,
and you clipped off your hooks
into the tackle box---quickly---
And left your stream in a hurry.
Dad's is the tackle box of a fisherman
Known all overClovis
He fished everywhere---Conchas Lake
Sumner Lake , Elephant Butte , the Pecos ,
Tres Ritos,Lake Powell and Falcon Lake in Texas
His nickname was "Willie."
They'd ask down atMurray
"Is Willie catching anything at.........?"
Watch your face, over his tackle box!
From the ceiling are hanging, hook to hook
six or eight bass plugs of all kinds, and
mostly beat-up and heavily used.
The golden Panther Martin hanging at the bottom
at the bottom is mine. I caught a twenty-three inch
trout on that lure at Havilland Lake, Co.
in 1976!
Bob, you of all people know what seeing
Bass plugs does to one's psyche
And blood pressure! LOL!
Well, it's time for us to eat---
The bad news is---we can't have
any more sardines and onions.
Someone, higher up, has banned them
from the attic---and the house, forever.
The smell, after our last attic session
Was just too much!
All this, in spite of my proof and documentation
That they're the most nourishing single food
In the world!
The good news is that the wife bought us
an Amy's pizza...one of my favorites.
It's just right for two, and watch...
It fits right in to my old discarded kitchen toaster
sitting over here on my workbench.
911 for you, Buster!"
(Uh-oh, there's that Buster again.)
You know, it's no wonder
people like attics!
In a world with crazy stuff
Going on every day,
I can come up here, read a favorite book,
Watch an old movie, do some writing
at that old beat up desk, or take a nap!
On a windy day, the old mulberry branch
makes rubbing noises against the house and it's
Almost like it is scratching your back!
And there's something special about attic light;
It seems like it has been filtered...it is a gentle light
Spilling in the window, like a reverent spotlight,
Bathing every piece of the stuff of your life...
With nice light and memories...
Every piece has a story!
Over there in the corner, Dad's old canvas
Hunting and fishing coat---once an olive drab color---
Now faded---is folded and lying on his old
Once silver-colored metal (beat-up) fishing tackle box.
One day, when he was about eighty-five
He said to me: "My lawn guy wants to buy
my fishing tackle; if you want any of it first,
it's out in the garage."
Bob, I'll tell you, The lawn guy had slim pickins'
For I loaded up most of it myself,
even the minnow bucket!
That tackle box---that was once so pristine
and shiny silver...
is now dented, deformed, discolored, stained,
and I think that's dried mud all over it!
I'll tell you, you've got to be a serious fisherman
To own a miraculous veteran-of-a-tackle-box
like that one!
You ought to see the interior---
It's piled up with all manner
of lures, plugs, spoons and flies...
Almost as if you saw a storm coming
Maybe with lightning,
and you clipped off your hooks
into the tackle box---quickly---
And left your stream in a hurry.
Dad's is the tackle box of a fisherman
Known all over
He fished everywhere---
Tres Ritos,
His nickname was "Willie."
They'd ask down at
"Is Willie catching anything at.........?"
Watch your face, over his tackle box!
From the ceiling are hanging, hook to hook
six or eight bass plugs of all kinds, and
mostly beat-up and heavily used.
The golden Panther Martin hanging at the bottom
at the bottom is mine. I caught a twenty-three inch
trout on that lure at Havilland Lake, Co.
in 1976!
Bob, you of all people know what seeing
Bass plugs does to one's psyche
And blood pressure! LOL!
Well, it's time for us to eat---
The bad news is---we can't have
any more sardines and onions.
Someone, higher up, has banned them
from the attic---and the house, forever.
The smell, after our last attic session
Was just too much!
All this, in spite of my proof and documentation
That they're the most nourishing single food
In the world!
The good news is that the wife bought us
an Amy's pizza...one of my favorites.
It's just right for two, and watch...
It fits right in to my old discarded kitchen toaster
sitting over here on my workbench.
Watch this, Bob. I 'm adding this tiny jar
of mushrooms, all over the top
of our Amy's...and some extra cheese!
Whaddya' think!?
Sent from my iPad
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