Alternative news, has the blues too...noth'n there, but 'do it yourself'' recipes. Hell, if I'd done it myself, we wouldn't have kids to feed. Wife said something, last night, she never said..."maybe we should sleep, with our shoes by the bed." I looked at her, kind'a funny. "Hey, honey, you feel'n ok?"
Internet's move'n slower, than an old man on a tar road, in July. Sunset now, minutes ago...'fifty degrees', just shy of Christmas eve. Something 'uneasy', move'n our way. What it is, I don't know...just a 'feel'n', I guess. The dogs bark at bushes, one crawls up on our tallest chair...and 'shivers'. I give her a little 'liver pate'. She'll be ok.
If this is just a 'foretaste', of going off the grid, I don't like it...but, we forget, there's books to read...candles for light, and kerosene for heat. Today, was the start of school vacation, so the kids are home...we're all together, got a good cook, made us fresh biscuits, and cookies to eat.
We got us a 'family band'...ain't never out of music, sons a 'rhythm tapper', daughter's a pianist, mom plays 'squeeze box', dad plays 'everything'...out'a the box, the 'juke box', of the old mans mind. We're doing fine, in the lonesome southwest, I guess...hear'n the ground, watch'n the sky's, old dvd's of 'British' Jack Frost, and George Gently, to warm our hearts, from our toes, to our tops.
No news, is no news...is good news? Maybe. We persist. Happy days to you.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Old shack, digital painting, by BK
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