Dolly-girl put the handset of the blower back on the hook, turned, and spoke. "Javier. It's on. This weekend." Javier Boleyn is a pal-o-Dolly-girl's--and mine too, now--from way back when they were running a bookmakin' operation on the east coast. They don't do that anymore--Dolly-girl got into versin' people and Javier, well he specializes in tellin' people's tales that need tellin' for whatever reason. She continued. "We got the tickets and it's a biggie--
Henry IV, Part I is on the stage. You don't see
that often" I shook my head. Ooo boy, thank
someone for that. Nothin' like a history play to keep one on one's toes. Literally, keeps a guy from snorin'.
I made a quick call and booked us into our regular stayin' spot, a
cozy inn that Dolly-girl adores. I gotta admit, it's to my likin' too and the &B part of B&B is somethin' to sit for! Plus the weather's great and there's a nice deck where you can plant your carcass out in the fresh air and
relax and take in life through a spoon--
concave or convex, plenty of time to take it in both ways if you want.
After we finished our feedbags, we went out for a perambulation around the town to see what we could see. It was Saturday so a lot of farmers were bringin' whatever they farm into town for town people to take home and cook so they could feel close to the land, like they might
own a barn or somethin'. There was plenty to go around, including some pretty nice lookin' cackleberries.
Seein' as how it was a dozen years to the day almost that me and Dolly-girl tied the knot, and seein' as how Javier had a ticket for a drama that we'd seen before and didn't need to see again, me and her decided to go out and get us some fancy, what she called
L'Art de la cuisine française whatever that is, for the night-time feedsack. Dolly-girl'd spotted
this joint that's been around as long as we've been gawkin' at the Bard south of the Oregon Vortex. We tried it out and I gotta say, it was hittin' our spots, alrighty.
After we were done tyin' on the feedbag, Dolly-girl shot me one through the wave and said, "What's with the droppin' Gs, Jack? You sound dumb, like that Magilla-from-Wasilla." "I thought you liked it--you keep tellin' me it wouldn't hurt to loosen up and drop a G-or-two now and then." Her greenies rolled like I knew they would before they peeked out under the wave." "Jeeze Louise, Jack, I was just talking about how you don't need to keep the first sawbuck you ever made down there at D'Mestiere Investigations, that's all." I slipped her arm through mine, pulled her close, started off down the street, looked up and winked at the moon. "Oh, is that what you were suggesting I do..."
Dolly-girl put the handset of the blower back on the hook, turned, and spoke. "Javier. It's on. This weekend." Javier Boleyn is a pal-o-Dolly-girl's--and mine too, now--from way back when they were running a bookmakin' operation on the east coast. They don't do that anymore--Dolly-girl got into versin' people and Javier, well he specializes in tellin' people's tales that need tellin' for whatever reason. She continued. "We got the tickets and it's a biggie--Henry IV, Part I is on the stage. You don't see that often" I shook my head. Ooo boy, thank someone for that. Nothin' like a history play to keep one on one's toes. Literally, keeps a guy from snorin'.
I made a quick call and booked us into our regular stayin' spot, a cozy inn that Dolly-girl adores. I gotta admit, it's to my likin' too and the &B part of B&B is somethin' to sit for! Plus the weather's great and there's a nice deck where you can plant your carcass out in the fresh air and 
relax and take in life through a spoon--
concave or convex, plenty of time to take it in both ways if you want.
After we finished our feedbags, we went out for a perambulation around the town to see what we could see. It was Saturday so a lot of farmers were bringin' whatever they farm into town for town people to take home and cook so they could feel close to the land, like they might 
own a barn or somethin'. There was plenty to go around, including some pretty nice lookin' cackleberries.
Seein' as how it was a dozen years to the day almost that me and Dolly-girl tied the knot, and seein' as how Javier had a ticket for a drama that we'd seen before and didn't need to see again, me and her decided to go out and get us some fancy, what she called L'Art de la cuisine française whatever that is, for the night-time feedsack. Dolly-girl'd spotted this joint that's been around as long as we've been gawkin' at the Bard south of the Oregon Vortex. We tried it out and I gotta say, it was hittin' our spots, alrighty.
After we were done tyin' on the feedbag, Dolly-girl shot me one through the wave and said, "What's with the droppin' Gs, Jack? You sound dumb, like that Magilla-from-Wasilla." "I thought you liked it--you keep tellin' me it wouldn't hurt to loosen up and drop a G-or-two now and then." Her greenies rolled like I knew they would before they peeked out under the wave." "Jeeze Louise, Jack, I was just talking about how you don't need to keep the first sawbuck you ever made down there at D'Mestiere Investigations, that's all." I slipped her arm through mine, pulled her close, started off down the street, looked up and winked at the moon. "Oh, is that what you were suggesting I do..."
1 comment:
awww, so romantic. Sounds like a wonderful time. I love how you guys live life!
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