Well, with the home computer out and with me about to leave work for the weekend I figured I would put out another reissue from April before anyone realized I had a blog, even though I was posting daily.
This was one of my favorite posts from back then so here it is..
Have a terrific weekend, everyone!

"T-ball, Softball and Knees.."

Is there a connection?

I'm sure there is, but I am talking about the condition of my knees after sitting in a foldout chair for 10 + hours yesterday checking out small town softball and T-ball in a marathon of blood sweat and jeers.

Yesterday, We took in 4-5 games of REAL homestyle smalltown sports and all that goes along with that...... A sense of community, a sense of family, the all American smell of grill whiff floating in the air,and cursing under your breath as to WHY your kid isnt in the game when these other girls are dropping the ball!

I love watching our oldest girl and her team from the school here play junior varsity softball, especially in the tournaments that are held about once a month or so. These are long stretches of living with gnats, mosquitos, sunburn, indigestion and those dreadful little dust storms that get kicked up by the players on the diamond and then drift back through the fanning crowd who spit sand and spit nails at the "blue" (or umpire) as it were for the inevitable bad call..

Of course, there's always the scoreboard with the just enough of the little lights out to not be able to distinguish an 8 from a 9 and there is always the little conversations with your neighbors next to you in their little fold out chairs about the bad calls and unreadable scoreboard. If a game is moving along pretty well and I HAVEN'T had that conversation with the person next to me, then I will be proactive and will bring up the bad call or the score just to have that part of the play acted out. It wouldnt be a proper game unless that took place.

The softball is an intense drama that plays out like a Greek tragedy. It sucks your heart in as you see your team rise and fall with the tide of victory and defeat. You soar with these girls in their victory and your heart breaks with them over a botched throw to first and a game lost in the final inning.

The T-ball is a comedy of errors where the littlest ones simply battle against their own confusion as to what in the hell to do with the ball when it's in their glove. This stress leads to some amazing decisions such as just standing there looking like a deer in the headlights at the parents who are up and screaming like mad for you to THROW THE BALL TO FIRST!!!!! You would think the child was holding a live handgrenade the way the parents animate themselves into a frenzy to try to get these youngsters to THROW THE BALL TO FIRST!!!!! Two of my favorite things to see in the T-ball game are the hit and run directly to THIRD, and the meeting with the WHOLE TEAM around the ball in the outfield after a pop fly while the hitter just gallops around the bases.. THROW THE BALL TO FIRST!!! as the refrain goes on.

It's hard on the knees to do these but it's worth it. I feel that small town ball could be one of the quintessential American experiences.....and it's just a great way to spend a summer evening or a spring day surrounded by your loved ones and friends.

THROW THE BALL TO FIRST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GEEZE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You get to know these girls and their families and you get to know their siblings and with that comes a sense of belonging and a sense of community that only small town ball can give.

THROW THE BALL TO FIRST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hiya Streamers.

Um...

I am going off the air for awhile while we get our home computer fixed. It's very sick and needs help!

I CAN post from work but that's dicey at best...

so, the hollow is going to get cleaned up and restored to it's lovely springtime freshness..... cuz frankly, it stinks after this long beating of a Summer!

I'm just saying!

Don't know when I'll be back....

Could be tomorrow night.

Could be weeks.

I dunno.

So, everyone BEHAVE while I am gone or I'll call my Mom on ya!

Dear Abby,

I am in a bit of a quandry!

See, I fell in love with a girl, well two girls kinda, cuz they are siamese twins. It's Kerry and Teri. They are HOT! but connected and just one person from the chest down. So, I got Kerry and Teri on top and then....

Well, I fell hard for Kerry but then Teri started winking at me when I was making out with Kerry and then one night when Kerry was asleep I slept with Teri., which means I kinda slept with Kerry too.

I'm confused as a Bolivian midget porn star with erectile dysfunction.

Is this relationship wrong?

... and how do I explain to Kerry what happened about my passionate side fling with Teri?

Please help me, Abby!

Sincerely,

Randy420

Awwwww.... the wonderful smell of fresh cut grass filled the hollow yesterday as I took on what is considered a "chore", but in fact is one of my favorite things to do around here----- cutting the lawn. We have a HUGE yard. The house sits up from the road, nestled into a hill which rises up higher behind our home, creating one of the sides of our "hollow". We do have woods on the property but mostly it's grass..... grass that needs cutting.

Now, I don't have one of those "living the good life" rider mowers. I get out there and push!

I LOVE to cut the grass though. I get to survey the yard and see how things look. I get to admire the flowerbed out front that took so much labor to dig into the rocky soil and now is full of beautiful flowers planted by Secret. Mostly, I like to THINK while I mow. The roar of the mower covers up any kind of distractions and I can let my thoughts run free. I try not to ever use that time to worry. Often I will sing songs in my head or recite my favorite Psalms. I will pontificate everything from childhood memories to theological perplexities to fantasies about having lunch in a cafe by the Seine, in Paris. Often, I will work out rhythms in my head in an almost tourette's like manner as I will count a drumbeat to say 9/8, and then punch in other odd meters to see if I can have it come smoothly out into 4/4 somewhere along the way. I sing alot of Elton John in particular when mowing. I don't know why he is so honored among the roar of motor and stickiness of skin, but he's usually there.

Then, when the work is done. I admire the clean and trim lawn stretching out before me. Work done, and work enjoyed. My body tired and my blood pressure down.

Then it's time to pour a large iced tea and sit outside to watch the birds return to the feeders after the noise and activity have died down; to sip and suck on ice cubes and ease into an oasis of peace and happiness.

Life can indeed be it's best at the strangest times.....

"Acid Girl"

Again at my door,
my acid girl.
Your Donovan records
and your rainbow swirl.

Pass your visions to me
in your kiss,
on your tongue.
Take my hand
and we dance to the dead
until at last we come undone...
records scattered across the floor
no wine remains
no song left unsung.

Now, the night, escaping us.
Take the clocks from the room
then sit in black madness,
in silence,
waiting for the sun.

With the dawn, we curl into a ball
pull me inside you
feel the carpet crawl,
under the clouds
that we float upon.

Then it is time for you to go...
kiss you goodbye,
then watch you stroll
into the bright morning,
odd,
among the busy souls.

I laugh about you, my twisted girl.
an absurd sight
in your rainbow swirl.

You live in a dream...
the things that you've seen...
The places you go
you won't share with me...
I can't be a part of
the things that you'll see,
but, how I love you,
my acid girl.

"Acid Girl",Copyright; 2006, Scott Scarborough