Before we had trucks that sucked out septic tanks it
was the manure spreader that was called the honeywagon.
If you grew up on a farm a while back you probably had
one sitting around.
That little bit of useless information has nothing to do
with today’s post. It was part of yet another strange
dream I had last night. Research disclosed that it is
indeed illegal to use a manure spreader in town.
The real reason for this post is to announce that in
the very near future I will officially become an
oldfart. Senior citizen, retired, member of the grumpy
old mans club, and card carrying Medicare recipiant.
And while my body tells me this is true, my mind does
not want to get with the program. It keeps coming up
with plans and ideas that could keep me busy for another
65 years if the good Lord let us live that long.
Although I think I have a clever enough diguise to pass
as a responsible adult the illusion is gone once I start
talking. Why can’t we have fun? Why do alway have to be
so serious? Who made those rules up?
Reminds of the lyrics to a song: Do this, don’t do
that, can’t you read the sign? The whole thing is, even
as age we have the right to be ourselves and shouldn’t
care what others think.
Just remember to smile more. It uses less muscles than
frowning and causes fewer wrinkles.
Comments are always welcome.