Tag Archives: a personal note

Birthday Greetings to Phoebe!

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Break out the party hats, boys ‘n’ girls–today is Phoebe’s birthday!

This is always going to be an easy date for me to remember, because for Patty and me, it’s the anniversary of our first date, on Dec. 26, 1976. The Islanders Polynesian Restaurant.

But first, it’s our time to join in celebrating Phoebe’s birthday and making sure she knows how much she means to us, and to our fellowship.

Happy birthday, Phoebe!


A Feast for Guinea Pigs

We should be back from Toms River by now, but in case we’re not, here’s a rather charming video for you.

Think this guy has enough guinea pigs? But he does run a guinea pig sanctuary. And what can you say? Anybody who takes the trouble to make his guinea pigs a great big Christmas tree from kale, apples, peppers and carrots, just for them to gobble up as a festive dinner–well, that’s someone I’d like to meet.


‘Prayer Request: For Christmas 2017’ (2017)

If all goes well with this post–and it hasn’t so far: not by a long shot!–you’ll be reading it as Patty and I zip down the Garden State Parkway for Christmas dinner at my sister’s house.

https://wordpress.com/post/leeduigon.com/35554

We’ll probably be back before dark, because I don’t like to drive on the Parkway at night and the local traffic’s even worse–all the nimrods cruising around with their high-beams on, trying to blind you.

I hope some of you are able to visit here today, and enjoy a carol or two.

The carol which I am attempting to post above is Charles Wesley’s Light of the World, sung by Maddy Prior and the Carnival Band. It’s one of my favorite hymns, and I’m bumbling around with it today. Let’s just see if I can get it posted, shall we?


A Cozy Baby Sloth

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We really must get going if we want to be in time for Christmas dinner; but my wife would never forgive me if I postponed putting up this picture of a baby sloth, and then couldn’t find it again. So here it is now. Patty’s crazy about baby sloths.

Did you know they were quite so little? No bigger than the average teddy bear.

Oooooh, fap! Getting late! Merry Christmas, and see you all later.


Did It!

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Hoo, boy, am I tired! But the duck is in the oven, our Christmas tree is trimmed, there’s Christmas music playing in the background, and finally I get my nice big glass of iced tea–aaaaah! Hits the spot!

The problematic little tree that we selected has turned out to be positively beautiful. I’d post a picture, but Patty’s camera has stopped working. I wish I could post pictures of some of your Christmas trees, but I have no idea how to go about it.

Anyhow, it was two hours-plus of up and down, trial and error, hanging ornaments from curtain rods, etc. There are ornaments that have to go just in the right place on the tree, or you don’t get full value from them. Hey, I minored in Art in college, I know what I’m doin’.

And yes, the cats get some of the duck. They’ve been as good as gold with the tree so far.


No More Nooze Today!

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That’s that, no more nooze today! A lot of wicked people are out there trying to stop Christmas, or at least taint it with their wickedness–but it’s here anyway: Christmas, 2019. There are stories I could report today, but they’ll just have to wait. Maybe they’ll go away–?

I’ve got to decorate our tree. We specialize in old ornaments handed down for generations. Our tree lights are older than I am, and they still work–inventory from Grandpa’s store that he had in the 1930s.

And I want my cigar, and my iced tea. I was so busy yesterday, I forgot to have my tea. Fap to that! Today I’m going to have my tea and revel in it.

And a lot of Christmas music, too. We can rejoice is the knowledge that we can’t run out of Christmas music.

Christ the Savior is born!

Once again, they couldn’t stop Him.


Our Post-Thanksgiving Day

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The dramatis personae of Godzilla vs. Megalon take  a curtain call. Left to Right, Jet Jaguar, Godzilla, Gigan, and Megalon. Absent: Dame Judith Anderson.

This is the day Patty and I have our turkey, relax, and watch Godzilla vs. Megalon. This treasure of cinematic art is completely devoid of serious thought, ideal for flushing the brain. The brain is like an outboard motor; it needs to be flushed from time to time.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Someone stole my outboard motor, once.

There is a good reason why this film has been called “The Gone With the Wind of movies featuring rubber monster suits,” but I can’t remember what that reason is.


We’re Back [Sigh of Relief]

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Just checking in to let you know we’re back, safe and sound. Although at first the car wouldn’t start today. Then it did. Then we wondered what we’d do if it wouldn’t start when it was time for us to go home. My brother is pretty good with cars. But happily my car started just fine.

The Garden State Parkway was on its best behavior today. The only problem we had was, someone kept moving the sun so it was always right in our eyes. This can be disconcerting at high speeds. If we’d left half an hour earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But we were having such a nice time at Alice’s, and everybody was so happy–so, yeah, we were half an hour late.

Thank you for your prayers. This trip can be pretty scary sometimes, but this time wasn’t one of them.


Getting There Without Getting Killed

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We almost had a collision, just now, going to pick up our laundry. Some clown ran the red light just as we were making our turn onto Amboy Avenue, and it was a mighty close shave. Patty was driving. Her hands are still shaking.

Our town today is swamped with traffic, people leaning on their horns and getting more and more steamed with every passing minute. I was going to gas up for our trip tomorrow, but all the excitement drove it right out of my head and I didn’t remember it until we got home. I hope the neighborhood gas station is open tomorrow morning.

Please pray for us to get there and back in one piece.

Note: I have chosen not to write about any of the college nincompoops denouncing Thanksgiving and saying we all ought to be mourning the creation of that racist hellhole, the United States of America. They are ungrateful. Being born here, and living here, is a blessing. No two ways about it. Thank God for His blessings on our country, and praise Him for every good thing.


How Big Things Grow Small, Etc.

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Have you noticed? As you get older, a lot of big things get small, and small things get big.

Years, for instance. The more years you live, the smaller they get. When I was nine or ten years old, a year was an eternity. But this year, 2019, whizzed by so fast, I almost missed it.

Mr. Bruno, across the street, went spear-fishing once and brought home two enormous striped bass. They looked enormous to me! But now I realize they couldn’t have been that big, because they both fit in the kitchen sink.

It seemed a small thing, an everyday thing, to me that my father was able to keep everything around our home in good repair. Like, he just did it, no big deal. But now that I’m older than he was at the time, I can’t imagine how he did it! How did he ever manage to do all that work around the house, and still do everything else he did?

We had a lot of family Christmas get-togethers in Grandpa’s living room. When I was a boy, it seemed a very big room. Now I can’t believe we ever fit so many people into it.

The street we lived on: I was there the other day, and it seemed way too short for all those houses. I am sure it used to be much longer. That’s how I remember it.

Shoveling snow off the sidewalk: that was a little job, wasn’t it? But it isn’t anymore. Now it’s a big job.

What would it be like, if things stayed the same size for as long as we knew them?

I’ve heard there’s a place in Lintum Forest like that, but I haven’t found it yet.


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