"Now that's a Nannyberry!"
ROOFTOP – Before you take another step, I want you to be mindful that you’re about to walk across a dewy, slippery as-all-get-out metal roof. This roof is begging you to fall and bust your buns. It tempts like a snake in Eden.
If this roof could talk, it’d say, “Oppa Gangnam Style.” You’d be dancing around like that Korean guy on YouTube.
|Click on pic|
Oh, and you’d end up wanting to sue me. You’d be much better off suing the Korean guy. I think his name is PSY. Go to YouTube and watch him dance. – No not now.
I noticed that on your way across the yard, you gave up trying to step on each of the round bricks on the walk-path. You should see the UPS drivers try to manage that course. After the third step, they wisely give up and just walk on the grass.
I want you to know that every third month, I measure to make sure those stepping-stones are equal distance. But, in no time they manage to wander. I think it’s caused by the earth rotation or the pull of the moon. Surely one the neighbors wouldn’t be messing with me.
By the way, I saw a couple of those black fuzzy caterpillars crossing the road last week. Not the same road, but they were definitely crossing. I think that’s supposed to be an indication that winter is over. Indication of something.
I’d like cold weather to come and stay for awhile. I love this time of year. Take a look down there. A lot of people rake their yards or mulch their leaves with a mower. I don’t like to disturb fallen leaves. Not because I hate raking… which I do. No, it-s really because I like the look and sound of leaf-covered ground. (Another good song intro.)
Speaking of which, when you get a chance, go to YouTube and key in “Killing the Blues.” The song starts out “Leaves are falling, just like embers.” Absolutely beautiful. The Robert Plant and Allison Krauss version is the best.
|Click on pic to see performance|
The fallen leaves we’re looking at aren’t nearly as colorful as the ones in the song, but they’ll sure do for our roofsit.
I believe I mentioned about the acorns falling all over the place. That’s still happening. Those things land with a vengeance. On this metal roof it sounds like incoming rounds.
I should be glad we don’t have pecan trees. Kay’s brother, Tracy, has a rather prolific pecan tree in his backyard. He said that a nut landed next to him on the patio and nearly scared him to death.
By the way, Tracy gave us a couple of boxes of pecans. Kay is going to hafta deal with ‘em, ‘cause they’re way too much trouble me. When I was at the COURIER office the other day to tape a restaurant review with crazy ol’ Brad Meyer, I noticed that the tree next to the building was a pecan. Low and behold, there were plenty of nuts on the ground… and one in a cubicle inside the building.
COURIER pecans are small paper-shell and easier to crack. Tracy’s pecans must be lead-shelled, but they are a bit more flavorful than the COURIER’s.
Oh, a little something about non-nut-producing trees. Ash trees have something called a samara, a winged seed that twirls down and slightly burrows into the turf. Just cool as it can be. No fear of being bopped by an ash seed.
|Kay in me in next to my TX Forest Service Pickup -- '72|
Having said that, I remember a time when Kay and I were sitting outside with some neighbors. The teenage daughter asked me the name of the red tree across the lawn. I was tempted to say “The tree’s name is Timmy.” But, I wanted to impress everyone, so I told her it was in fact a Rusty Nannyberry. “It has fur on the underside of its leaves,” I told her.
That girl laughed till she cried. I’m fairly sure she has no recollection of the moment, but I’ve somehow managed to carry it along through the years. One of life’s fun times… the kind that occasionally surface during a pleasant roofsit.
Speaking of which, this roofsit is going to end right now with us doing the Gangnam Style dance in the front yard. I’ll show you how. Hey, it’ll be a blast. – Oh, yes you are.
To see Mark and Brad's most recent restaurant review click on pic below.
You can reach Mark at firstname.lastname@example.org