At the risk of sounding hippy dippy I’ll share with you that morning & evening I like to go outside into the garden with a beverage and commune with nature.
~ ~ • ~ ~
~ ~ • ~ ~
I enjoy the aloneness of it. Tossing my thoughts aside. Being in the moment. Enjoying the colors of the flora. Trippy.
~ • ~ ~
~ ~ • ~ ~
But this Spring I’ve come to realize that often when I’m outside doing my Earth Mother thing, I am not alone. There be more than flora, there be fauna, too.
~ ~ • ~ ~
~ ~ • ~ ~
And this fauna doesn’t seem to give a flying fig through a donut hole that I’m out there too. You’d think that they would care, wouldn’t ‘ya?
~ ~ • ~ ~
~ ~ • ~ ~
But they don’t seem to groove on the idea that this is my garden– and not theirs. They just keep on keeping on like they belong out there. Far out man. 😉
• I’VE BEEN TO THREE BASEBALL GAMES so far this year.
Two of the games were MLB & one was Single-A. I’ve sat a few rows up from the field and I’ve sat a few rows down from the top. Plus I’ve sat in box seats.
None of the games have been scoreless, but they haven’t been memorable either. No grand slams. No amazing fast balls. No outrageous home runs hit out of the park.
Just pleasant somethings to do.
• I ONLY MENTION THEM TODAY BECAUSE, oddly enough, I have no real flapdoodle or twaddle to tell you, my gentle readers.
I usually have something to say here, whether it be a topic or an observation or an absurdity. So in place of the usual, I thought that I’d leave you with ALL the lyrics for “Take Me Out To The Ballgame.”
Not everyone understands that if it weren’t for Katie Casey, none of us would be singing this particular song during the 7th inning stretch.
That girl had it going on!
• • •
• • •
Take Me Out To The Ballgame
Katie Casey was baseball mad Had the fever and had it bad. Just to root for the home town crew, Ev’ry sou, Katie blew; On a Saturday, her young beau Called to see if she’d like to go To see a show, but Miss Kate said “No, I’ll tell you what you can do.”
“Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and cracker jack, I don’t care if I never get back, Let me root, root, root for the home team, If they don’t win it’s a shame. For it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re out, At the old ball game.”
Katie Casey saw all the games, Knew the players by their first names; Told the umpire he was wrong, All along, good and strong. When the score was just two to two, Katie Casey knew what to do, Just to cheer up the boys she knew, She made the gang sing this song:
“Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and cracker jack, I don’t care if I never get back, Let me root, root, root for the home team, If they don’t win it’s a shame. For it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re out, At the old ball game.”
I’m in awe of this woman. I don’t know who she is, but I would not be so gracious under similar circumstances.
Because what happened must happen to her, and her family, almost daily. And only a bunch of saints could be this cheerful about the mistake I made.
An honest mistake, but a stupid one.
~ • ~
You see, on Sunday morning around 7:00 a.m. I decided to call the automated Kroger pharmacy line to refill my prescription. I was out of Restasis, my favorite eye drops ever.
Being half awake + a bit blurry-eyed [see previous sentence] I goofed while dialing the phone for the pharmacy. Instead of getting the “Hello. Thank you for calling your Kroger pharmacy.” message, I got a real person whose home I’d just called.
The woman who answered said your basic “Hello!” then heard me babble: “Oh no. I dialed wrong. Oh dear. Sorry to have bothered you this early. On Sunday. Oh my.”
And without missing a beat this polite woman said: “Trying to reach Kroger pharmacy?”
~ • ~
I answered, in a most pathetic voice:“Yes.”
All I heard on the other end of the line was her laugh and then she said: “Our phone number is close to theirs. You just misdialed. Try again. It happens here all the time.”
Grateful to be talking with someone who was not yelling at me for waking him or her up early on a weekend morning, I said: “Thank you. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Then with another laugh I heard her say: “No problem. Bye, bye!”
And so it came to be that on Sunday morning I spoke with a saint. I now have proof that they walk and talk among us.
~ ~ • ~ ~
THE SPECTACLED BEAN 