Oh, Lord. The scarlet lady is at it again. Lucy has a new admirer. He's the bartender at Enoch's, an Irish pub down on Louisville -- 10-12 blocks from home.

Lucy needs stimulation beyond me, and it's a good source for the rare gin-and-tonic. Today was Lucy's second visit. John gave her due admiration and another French fry. The handsome man knows how to go after a girl's heart.

She bitched all the way home.

I just read the word "kapok" for the first time in decades. It's in The Coroner's Lunch by Colin Cotterill.

Because I can, Yes I Can Can, I used a Pointer Sisters song in the discussion area for the psychology course (positive thinking). Then I ran across this great country song:

Happy Father's Day!



A good many people at Youtube have said these are baby goats. Look at 'em. I have to agree. Kids.
Some lambs there in the upper right. Regardless, how cute can a being get?

Lyman's cousin invited me to a workshop yesterday at her shop.  Had a great time with a small group of women.

Here is my result, using Annie Sloan paint and stencils:

And for something completely different:

A rose, my sweet:

A convocation of legends: Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings (deceased), Johnny Cash (deceased), and Kris Kristofferson

"City of New Orleans" was written by Steve Goodman -- not Arlo Guthrie or Willie Nelson.

Since I failed to make it to Scott's memorial, let this stand as his funereal music. He was more progressive than I've ever been watching this stuff, but he couldn't object to a few outlaw writers.

Good Lord. I had a DNA analysis done by 23andme a year or two ago. It was a spit thing.

I encouraged my brother Charles, and my sister Patricia to do a comparable test.

Genetically, they're showing up 85-98 British Irish and I'm showing 62%. I always knew I was different, but who did Mama like that much? Damn sure wasn't any of us.