Rayl’s Ramblings, Tony Rayl
Back on the page…sort of
It’s really great getting back on page 2 again.
I am seriously considering trying the Drunken Master method when it comes to column writing. However, I get the sneaky feeling that wouldn’t work out too well.
So you’re stuck with a sober Rayl’s Ramblings, which I guess is at least a good example for the kids, right?
Well, we have had a break from weekend athletic events. In fact, this is probably our longest streak of free weekends in nearly 20 years.
Kelly loves to get started on spring planting, so we’ve had a lot of time to get a good jump on that this year. And then came this past weekend’s cold weather, which put at risk all that we have done. I am a slow learner, so at first when Kelly was expressing concern one week earlier about the extended forecast, I informed her I could think of some ways we could stay warm.
However, then I realized she was worried about the plants, and not about me having to pull out my thermals again. I can be dense, but I am starting to awaken.
My favorite part of our outdoor work has been our exploration into composting. We put a bunch of organic “trash” into a barrel, added water and covered it with a trash bag. The fun part is sticking a pitch fork in there and turning over the compost from time to time. The smell is just awesome — in a very stinky sort of way.
I am not being sarcastic; I really do like the compost experiment, and can’t wait to see how good it is as a fertilizer later this year.
Our washing machine broke down last month. Let me tell you, it’s a scary moment in our full house when the washer goes down. Long nights at the laundromat raced through my mind.
Of course, I thought I could fix it first myself, so I tore off the back, got down in there and cleaned out the pump and the drainage line. The pump was a mess, I even pulled out a stinky, dirty $5 bill (don’t tell my banker), because, you know, we do a lot of laundry and items in pockets do go undetected from time to time.
I was so proud of my manly accomplishment, sure that I had fixed the washer. Unfortunately it acted up again, and finally I had to call in the professionals, always a painful moment in a middle-aged guy’s life. (Turns out the pump needed replaced, not just cleaned out.)
So I finally get back on page 2, and this is what you get, a stinkin’ Christmas letter in May. I could have written about Trump, Syria (please don’t forget about Syria), North Korea, the whole Middle East thing, immigration, terrorists threats, comprehensive plans, stop lights, fiber optics, more about Main St., funding for transportation and schools, legal ganja, recall elections, and so much more.
Instead you got this.
Maybe I will rethink that Drunken Master idea.