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Thursday, November 22, 2007

Chuckin' Nuts

It is a fricken coop tradition to write a Thanksgiving post. In fact, one could say the fricken coop began on a thanksgiving lost in the slurpy slime of antiquity. When Pappy sat his rheumatic rump down at a keyboard for the first time and flogged the easternet with the whip of his wit. With reckless abandon he flung his thoughts and thanks willy-nilly into the deep and found a few of them washed back up in his inbox the following day. That's not the first time he realized he wasn't the only castaway from society sittin' on an island of isolation, tending nothing but their own coconuts, but it is the first time he realized he had a way of launching his nuts at those other archipelagos. Sometimes he even gets a nut or two heaved back. For a while there was a brisk nut trade going on. Lately, not so much. Mostly he just sloughs around the trebuchet, loads in a few of his heavier nuts, the kind he couldn't finish by himself, and trips the trigger. He watches them disappear into the distance and says a little prayer that each one finds a home and a heart aching for coconut milk.

It is also a fricken coop tradition to let analogies spin off into a bizarre life of their own until they finally mutate into staggeringly irrelevant stories. For those of you suddenly finding yourselves in a freak barrage of coconuts, that is known as a "Voorlooper." We grow those here at the coop.

So, on an equally freakishly mild and beautiful Thanksgiving morn here in the Pennslobovian Archipelago, let's help Pappy chuck some nuts:

  • i's thankeefull for this freakishly mild and beautiful morning.
  • and that i am not standing in a near freezing river in New Yawk with the Duke of Fluke, with aching hands trying to catch a fish that won't bite while the sky makes up its mind whether to rain, freeze the rain or snow on me and finally decides on all three.  Happy hunting, Duke.
  • i's thankful that despite nearly being a hostile, irritable fourteenager, i can still have a conversation with my son Happ.
  • i's tankful for the talents i see's in ma boys.
  • i's tankful for the talents finally being recog-i-nized in my wife.  Always knew she'd succeed.  Now if she'd just make enough so's i could retire...
  • i's mighty thankyfull for sweet potato pie.  yum.
  • i's tankfool for Morgan.  Cute lil' plumpkin.
  • i's thankful that i finally have a callin'.  Now if i could jest hear better.
Hang on, there's one more and it's a doozie.

  • I, Pappy Fricken, am most thankfully thankful that a couple o' thursday's ago, we finally finished the bedrooms in the addition i been building for nigh on eight years and can finally, after a lifetime of makin' do, can move into spaces created just for us.  Foretaste o' heaven is what it is and it tastes like sweet potato pie.  Mmmm.  That's good stuff.
  • Lil bit of spin-off a that last 'un, i might get a Lego lab out of the old cave we vacated.  Maybe i'll call it the ArchipeLego.
Y'all have a good 'un too.

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