Local news and whether

Whether or not you want it, that is. The final installment of the saga that no one cares about. And, as an added bonus, I am proud to announce that the word "talisman" was used on broadcast TV last night. That really doesn't happen all that often. So, by way of anyway, I took some digital photographs yesterday to show you today and supercede tomorrow. Got the bases covered, so let's do this thing.

So I was making a cuban sandwhich, but didn't have a sandwhich press or panini maker. What to do? Call George Forman, that's what. This worked well until the sandwhich settled and the whole thing crashed, shattering my nice ceramic burner covers. The wife reacted by employing extra sarcasm and decibles. Dang!

So what could this be...what could it be? It is a beginning. A beginning of something sweet and wonderful. It is a tiny, baby tangerine beginning to grow in it's mother tree's limb. Womb? No. Limb? You betcha. Anyway, I thought this was kind of interesting, in an embryonic fruit sor of way.

My little corner of the yard that I am preparing as my place of solitude. Cigar tree is nice, but public. Once I install a bench, this will be a place of solitude and personal respite. I like quiet, shady places where I can hide out and be alone. I'm all about the me time and usually find myself to be excellent company. It is also where I mulched the sprinkler in a show of force.

A before picture of the continerized herb garden.

Another before picture, there are no after pictures yet. Patience, weedhopper!

The tree that lost some limbs so that herb garden might have more direct sunlight. The last limb knocked my ladder over and I had to do a monkey boy butt shimmy all the way back down. Again, Dang!

And now, the last chapter of the saga. These are the pieces parts that didn't fit anywhere else, all sort of Frankenstiened together. I often think of two or more lines to turn a phrase for me, but in the normal process I usually pick just one to go with. When the musical part of this songwriting duo asked me to pen multiple versions of this, a request he has made only once before, I was happy to. Anyhow, by way of anyway, here is the last version ye shall gaze upon.

Dixie Highway

In a God forsaken town late
smell of take-out chicken fried steak
Running down this broken line
ain't getting anywhere

Night clerk checks me in and says
Put ya down in 313
And will you need a wake-up call...
or just a place to greive?

Motel sign says:
Dixie Highway
Vacancies....YES
Phone...Pool...
and Color TV

Get a cup of coffee
from the dim lit lobby
'neath a neon flashing sign
I stop and say a prayer

God, you know she's out there
running like she just don't care
Make it rain soft slow tonight
so she can feel my tears

And the Motel sign says:
Dixie Highway
Vacancies....YES
Phone...Pool...
and Color TV

Whispered that you loved me
like I never felt no sunshine
I'll spit it right back out at you
and let you think I'm buying.

Told you half my secrets
shared you all my stories
sold my soul to make you mine
but that was long ago

'Cause somewhere is the one I'm
wishing that you were tonight
Betting on a sure thing
has always been my style

Falling for the ones who
in matters of affection
consider life a small thing
compared to just one lie

The Motel sign says:
Dixie Highway
Vacancies....YES
Phone...Pool...
and Color TV

Dixie Highway...motor keeps turning
Never stop...never gonna stop(repeat & fade)
Ed

Highways & heartaches, out
Ramblin' Ed