The Wine Commonsewer

Vote For Me & I'll Set You Free

Good Morning Gentle Readers,

And in other news.....

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Bonus:

As Ever,

TWC

Tip of the glass to Kent

Joyce

Gentle Readers,

Something didn't look right and I had to go back to the source documents to see why. I don't keep paper files, everything is scanned. Going through the .PDF quickly from page to page something caught my eye.....in the middle of the page..... a bright orange sticky note that apparently had scanned along with the page. It was upside down to the page and I'm not sure why I flipped it to read.

Saturday 11/24

Michael-

Sorry I'm late with work. Had trouble w/pain medication + had to take another CT Scan~should have some answers in a few weeks about my cancer.

Regards~Joyce

The answers weren't good and Joyce passed away in early April.

Although we weren't close, seeing the sticky note jolted me like a shot of caffeine. Made me think I shoulda called her a couple more times.

There might be a lesson in this.

As Ever,

TWC

Tuesday Twofer

Good Morning Gentle Readers,

It's for fellow wino, the Kosmik Kid who, on occasion, gets misty for another California, one that more closely resembles the mostly vanished, mostly laid-back Promised Land, where long haired free spirits like him once wrote software and lived among the Oaks and Sycamores in Silverado Canyon.

Oft times he was behind the bar (or smoking weed with the Hells Angels) at Silverado's now-defunct Alpine Inn, next door to Missy's old place, right down the road from where Evelyn's family was evac'd by helicopter during the floods (watched it on the Six O'clock news). Despite the Kevin Bacon rule, none of the three of them knew each other.

And, also just because I like it and, because Loona is ever so much prettier than Don Henley (or the Ataris). I was going to say way smokin' hotter, but this is a family rated blog.

Speaking of hotter, it's been hotter than a three dollar pistola here at the Casa. No June Gloom, for once summer started before the 4th of July.

Took that boy surfing a few days ago. I love the sun but its toll is plain anymore. Tops of my feet always look dirty, gave up trying to scrub it off in the shower. Years of bare feet, Huarache's, and river trips. You don't realize how sunburnt your feet can get until it's too late. Hasn't hurt my love life though.

Now, Gentle Readers, go soak up some sun. While it's still free. I plan to do just that.

BTW, my feet don't look like hers.

For the longest time The House Blond wondered why Sheryl had her .45 on, so she could rock on. At the beach.

That's Banana Boat, not Sam Colt. Sweetie. Train up a child and all that.

Soak Up The Sun here. Loona here.

Happy Two's Day.

TWC

No More Wood Splitting

Good Morning Gentle Readers,

Talked to my dad for a little while tonight.

He told me it's a little tough with his wife being knocked out with the stroke and all. He doesn't have much help and at eighty, he's a little tired. Got no aches and pains though. I offered him some of mine, which go in streaks it seems. Five weeks on, five weeks off. He said he'll probably forgo splitting wood himself this year and hire it done.

As Ever,

TWC

Sauna Not Steam

Good Morning Gentle Readers,

The scorch meter spontaneously ignited yesterday so I can't answer the question de jour, which is: How hot was it, TWC? I could tell it was hot though because the Harley guys left their leathers at home for the customary Saturday afternoon ride.

I love the heat, something about a warm dry evening breeze rustling through the cottonwoods that does a body good. It may be the subtle essence that's almost not there. Can't quite call it an aroma, because, unlike Ponderosa Pine or greasewood after a thunder storm in the desert, cottonwood doesn't overwhelm the senses.

Annnnnnnnnnd...the number one reason I like the heat is:

It shuts up the donkeys and that miserable parrot.

Well, okay, that's just a fringe. It's also too hot for the dirt bikes. When we wuz kids, we just rode. These kids got leathers, full face helmets, and motocross boots, all of which are hot and heavy and cost a lot more than a hi-tech silencer would cost. The parents would never consider hacking the turbo mufflers off the Suburban. But stick a silencer on Junior's 250? Ain't gonna happen.

Shaddup Old Man, that's just kids having fun. And it's nothing like the dirt bike wars they're having in Temecula's wine country. Does that make this a wine post?

By way of illumination, meth exports have largely replaced Navel Oranges as Riverside County's primary cash crop. Navel Oranges are mutants, clones (with belly buttons) of a single genetic malfunction that occurred in Brazil in 1820. The still-producing parent tree of every Navel Orange you or anyone else has ever eaten is in Riverside. In the day, neither Fla or The OC could hold a candle to the citrus production in Riverside County.

In 1902 the tree was fenced and still is. Today it abuts a major intersection in the city along what was once US 91 from LA to Las Vegas (and points northeast).

And, over the years, all the motocross greats have settled here because it's Dirt Bike Heaven. That's the demographic. Riders are drawn to Riverside County like snowboarders to Park City.

This began as a short post about the heat and I'm babbling.

Photo appears courtesy of UC & the Orange Public Library

As Ever,

TWC

Stephen Wright on Romance

I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.

Sam Kinison on Terrorism

I don’t worry about terrorism. I was married for two years.

The Library Blond

Good Morning Gentle Readers,

Can't see it? Go here.

As Always,

TWC

Tip of the glass to former blond Noelle B   

Soaring Over Mountains

Gentle Readers,

This is pretty cool except it gave me vertigo and made me airsick. Just wiggle your mouse and you'll get the picture pretty much immediately.

As Ever,

TWC

Tip of the glass to Laurie

I'm Jumpin' Anyhow (A Real Fine Place To Start)

Good Morning Gentle Readers,

Worked late, lit a small fire out front, asked the House Blond to see if she could smell the vanilla in the wine. Later we watched some YouTube videos. In the old days when MTV and VH-1 played music videos, we used to watch them on TV. That or drag racing.  Ain't nothing like a big fat American V-8 funny car.

Sitting on daddy's lap, watching Bubble Gum, Country, Ashley Tisdale. Well, Sweetie, if you're going to love Last Christmas, you've got to hear the original Wham hit. Gotta get to the roots.

Did you know, Gentle Reader, that TWENTY TWO MILLION nine year old girls have watched the Jonas Brothers SOS?

One last thing......May those of you who are lonely find the elusive. Don't be looking over your shoulder like there's someone standing behind you that I'm actually talking to, neither.  Serious though.

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As Ever,

TWC