Taking in the sights and singing about alligator soup

Published 8:06 am Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting

I’ve resolved to lose weight this year. I’m exercising every day.

What kind of exercise are you doing?

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I step on and off the bathroom scale each morning.

Driving by Bruce’s

I had two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who lived across the road from each other. One Bruce moved away. Whenever I pass the remaining Bruce’s driveway, thoughts occur to me, such as:

I was smiling as if I’d gotten everything I’d wanted for Christmas. I should have been smiling. I’d gotten much more than I’d wanted. I must have been hungry because I was singing the “Alligator Pie” song.

“Alligator stew, alligator stew. If I don’t get some I don’t know what I’ll do. Give away my furry hat, give away my shoe, but don’t give away my alligator stew.

“Alligator soup, alligator soup. If I don’t get some I think I’m gonna droop. Give away my hockey stick, give away my hoop, but don’t give away my alligator soup.”

I was on my way home from another medical appointment. I don’t mind meeting with a doctor. It’s better than meeting with an undertaker.

The cafe chronicles

The cafe is one of those quintessential eateries where couples talk during the beef commercials. Most of us are more than willing to tell others about our problems even though most of the people we’re telling them to don’t want to hear about them. The waitress listened to the complaints and her face reflected the proper concern. A good server brings a lot to the table.

Jeepers creepers, where did you get those peepers?

The sweet in my dreams had eye surgery recently. It caused her to see two of me. She claimed that was a definite hardship.

I remember when my mother had cataract surgery. It was different process in those days. It required a hospital stay with mother remaining motionless in bed with a cushioned brick pillow on each side of her head to restrict movement.

The procedure improved her eyesight. On the way home, she had joked, “There are lines in the middle of the road!”

Entering her home, the first thing she said was, “How long have those cobwebs been there?”

Everything went and is going well for my wife. I hope that my bride will come out of the surgeries with the eyesight of a rabid sports fan. One of those who never misses seeing a wrong call.

I had an eye exam, too. It was thorough. Very thorough. My eyes were good, but the doctor told me that I’m developing a kidney stone. That’s what I call a comprehensive eye test.

Company is coming

Donna Swenson of rural Waseca told me that when she was a girl, she could tell when company was coming because her mother put the ironing board away.

People tend to clean the house when visitors are expected. They put things away. They’d like their abode to appear spotless, but a keen-eyed guest can spot items stuffed under a sofa. Why not ask a visitant to help clean your house? It will give their life purpose.

In an earlier version of myself, I knew we were having company when my mother said, “We’re having company.”

Nature notes

I did a Christmas Bird Count. It was 18 degrees below zero. That was no mountain for a high-stepping Minnesotan.

I walked briskly as if I were going past a skunk farm. It was the January cold that put a hurry up in my git-along, not skunks. Then I caught the faint scent of a skunk. It made me want to flip the calendar and see how close spring was.

A black squirrel scurried up a tree and put the trunk between it and me. A squirrel knows where the back of a tree is. The name “squirrel” comes from two Greek words, skia, meaning “shadow” and oura, meaning “tail.” A squirrel can position its tail over its body for protection from sun, rain or snow. It’s also a warm blanket when sleeping.

The night before, when it was merely 20 below, an eastern screech owl had flown across the road in front of me. It’s a cool little bird to see at any time. Not far from that sighting, I spotted either a deer mouse or a white-footed mouse scampering across the same road. I’d wished that I had contact information for the tiny owl so I could have given it a heads up as to where a meal might be found. It’s not that I hate mice. It’s that I love owls.

Meeting adjourned

Being kind is a way to show that you love life.