It truly truly is a beautiful May evening. No wind. The rich lushness of the new leaves abound. The evening birds are calling. Geese can be heard calling out perhaps in startled flight. Just a hint of a breeze.
An evening that my husband describes as 'the drippings of Heaven'.
I suppose people in town are out walking along sidewalks visiting with neighbours as they transplant petunias and pansies in their flower beds. Some are cutting their lawns and some are perhaps watching a ball game .
We, I should more rightly say, 'He' has not cut the lawn as yet in hopes that the theory about having the combination of long grass and baby frogs hiding in that grass is the reason why we did not, absolutely did not, without a word of a lie, have mosquitoes in our yard last year. So as the grass becomes higher and thicker and starts to waft to and fro like a stunted field of frozen tufted barley, I will try to keep in mind that it is all for the greater cause of Science.
I do love a good baseball game. My parents took me to one special kind of game in my home town when I was about eight years old. I am pretty certain of the date as my Dad was in the local garage dealing on a new car that same evening, and we were waiting for him impatiently. He was dealing on a 1960 Ford Fairlane, three on the tree, standard, four door, red, with black and white interior, with what I think were called fintails along with twin headlights. This was the first car we had that had signal lights. It was in those decadent days when one ordered the color, both interior and exterior, along with the any extras such as automatic or standard transmission . The Ford Motor Company would build it to order, and either ship the vehicle out to the far flung reaches of the Canadian Prairies, or one could , like my Dad, either fly down or take the train to Windsor to pick it up. La Dee Dah! Those days are long gone!
With order form and glossy pamphlet in hand, Dad finally came out of the dealership and off we went to the strangest ball game I have ever seen . It was DONKEY Ball. I think I am correct when I say that the game had the regular rules except that the runner had to ride a Donkey around the bases. I also think the Donkeys were used in the outfield and on the bases as well. I remember the batter having to climb on to a not very enthusiastic donkey and try to get it to run all the way to first base before the ball got there, and the cheering crowd egging him on.
Being a kid from the country, that was the first time I had ever been to any ball game in my home town, and it was the first time I had seen a Donkey...
...although I suspect there might still be a few Asses in that vicinity even now.
An evening that my husband describes as 'the drippings of Heaven'.
I suppose people in town are out walking along sidewalks visiting with neighbours as they transplant petunias and pansies in their flower beds. Some are cutting their lawns and some are perhaps watching a ball game .
We, I should more rightly say, 'He' has not cut the lawn as yet in hopes that the theory about having the combination of long grass and baby frogs hiding in that grass is the reason why we did not, absolutely did not, without a word of a lie, have mosquitoes in our yard last year. So as the grass becomes higher and thicker and starts to waft to and fro like a stunted field of frozen tufted barley, I will try to keep in mind that it is all for the greater cause of Science.
I do love a good baseball game. My parents took me to one special kind of game in my home town when I was about eight years old. I am pretty certain of the date as my Dad was in the local garage dealing on a new car that same evening, and we were waiting for him impatiently. He was dealing on a 1960 Ford Fairlane, three on the tree, standard, four door, red, with black and white interior, with what I think were called fintails along with twin headlights. This was the first car we had that had signal lights. It was in those decadent days when one ordered the color, both interior and exterior, along with the any extras such as automatic or standard transmission . The Ford Motor Company would build it to order, and either ship the vehicle out to the far flung reaches of the Canadian Prairies, or one could , like my Dad, either fly down or take the train to Windsor to pick it up. La Dee Dah! Those days are long gone!
With order form and glossy pamphlet in hand, Dad finally came out of the dealership and off we went to the strangest ball game I have ever seen . It was DONKEY Ball. I think I am correct when I say that the game had the regular rules except that the runner had to ride a Donkey around the bases. I also think the Donkeys were used in the outfield and on the bases as well. I remember the batter having to climb on to a not very enthusiastic donkey and try to get it to run all the way to first base before the ball got there, and the cheering crowd egging him on.
Being a kid from the country, that was the first time I had ever been to any ball game in my home town, and it was the first time I had seen a Donkey...
...although I suspect there might still be a few Asses in that vicinity even now.
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