Sipping coffee out here with ratdog doing what he does best, laying around, doing nothing, which is doing something in an odd way.
Looking through stuff, strange how the Revolutionary War came to mind
Chance I said to myself, that would shure put a crimp in thier plans, if all the Producers in the country, just stopped, I’m talking about the lady at the counter who’s been on her feet for 10 hours, the fella who climbs towers to replace bulbs, don’t matter what the Producers do to earn a paycheck.
The takers, yeah, just what would the takers do… sips coffee…
Listening to this Farmer, I like farmers, farmers got cows, I like to eat cows and make stuff for thier hide. He said something that many of us know well.
Fishermen ain’t rich, does my dad and his brothers look rich to you?
Sips coffee, no, we were never rich, well, not in coin, whether in the kitchen or on water, the work ethic was installed early. Perhaps if that young farmer has a child and child asks, ” does your hands hurt?’.
Did you eat today, “yes’ you got clothes? ” yeah” like where you live? “yes” then no, my hands don’t hurt
Yaknow, not all classrooms are to be found in building, John Harford, he grew-up on the Mississippi, one of his classrooms was an old wheelhouse, my uncle on the left in the wheelhouse, being no more than 8 years of age, ” chance, you wanna beer?”. sure, “ok, hands me a PBR, how’s the compass looking, “right on course, should be in Thunder Bay about an hour”, sipping on a long neck.
Haven’t heard a sad song played on banjo, I don’t believe the banjo was built to play sad songs