I came back a few minutes ago
from reading to the first graders at the school for half an hour, there were
some beans in the crockpot that had cooked over the night, six big cloves of
garlic in there, an onion, salt and peeper, 13 kinds of peas and beans, some
fried thin lean ham. I ate out of the pot and it sits in my belly now out here
in the office, lies there nestled like a purring cat. Ran into a woman called
Sarah Cobb who is bringing by some capsules tomorrow that contain the essences
of all these veggies and fruits that have been flash dried, she said she'd
leave them inside the front door, I said I'd leave her a check there. Trust, no
locks, leave the bike in the yard with no fence, still there in the morning. In
San Diego guys'd come into my bedroom and strip off my watch and pj's, kill me
in my sleep if I said anything. She had been reading to the third graders. She
and her husband Mike own one of the Cobb ranches up towards the Benchmark that
raise Charolais for breeding purposes, to bring up the genetic endowment in
other less royal herds. She is the town lamplighter, sits on the school board,
pushes through things that the normally conservative board members might be
reluctant to by themselves. She is out for children, wants the best for them,
makes sure everyone knows what there is culturally going on in Choteau and
Great Falls, gets art classes for farm children that their parents wouldn't
want for them, sweet talks them into it, or bullies them, you know the type.
Determined woman, very Irish looking, freckles, big chops, little merry eyes,
solid enough to throw a heifer without a rope. She put together a woman's
hiking group that goes out for six hours on each friday, different trail up in
the mountains each week.
This guy from Radium Springs
has a good idea, what I'm wondering is why he's so cautious when he could turn
out a monthly newsletter on his computer right away, I'd even help him with the
mailing costs. What's this one issue of the DCJ in 1996? We'll all be gone into
Mach 6000 by then, I mean when this shit hits you you have to snap to it and
run with it, put everything you got on the line otherwise it doesn't connect.
What's he being so cautious about? When yall did the Blue Frog Flyer and me the
LT there was no hesitancy that mattered, right? I want a dude that gets all
weird and wired and kicks butt to get the stuff flaming off the presses to burn
the reader, why else is he being called to do this? That's my beef. The pork,
however, is that his magazine will do well. And I'd like to send him stuff, and
Will you send me the specs re
getting the rudder pedals and the flight stick so I can do this thing right,
huh? Geez I know about arcades and yet what can I do with no steering stuff??
I'll sink the carrier first landing. Help a poor man out, send me where I am
sposed to write and send me money.
We have a pickup, 4x4
Chevvy, extended cab, eight foot bed, v‑8, 357 I think, scats good, solid
thing, takes the washboards like a Cadillac and yet carries a 1500 lb payload.
It's gold and reddish brown, has a good radio and cassette player, air, tilt
wheel, you can see all around through these big windows that give your a 360
degree view, really nice, we're trading in the two cars on it, the local bank