Whew. I remember the farm. It's like it just happened yesterday...

-being whisked away noises-

I was young at the time. I was on Grandma's farm. Dad farmed it because, well, Grandpa was gone long before I came around and Dad liked farming. He found it relaxing; an excellent way to spend the time he had while not working elsewhere at one of his many other jobs he had when I was little.

It was a farm; there were fields, a big farmhouse; Grandma had a huge yard. In fact, it was so big it had a name. Maple Lawn. Nicest lawn I've ever seen.

I used to go to the farm with Dad every other day (I had kindergarten every other day instead of that morning/afternoon crap) and I would watch cartoons with Grandma, play with things in the yard, garage, creek, whatever. I was happy there. It was youth; fun, energetic, sunny. I always associate that farm with being sunny.

I remember...the time Dad shot the groundhog that was under the outhouse...the table saw upstairs in the garage...the strawberry garden that was there every year...the alligators (moss patches) in the creek...the snakes...swimming in wagons of corn...that night, with the rain, and Mom, with those huge rubber boots, stuck in the mud, with the pigs...Grandma. I miss Grandma. But then again, I miss everything.

I seem to have gotten side-tracked. I apologize. Anyways, um, here's a joke:

(I'm sure you can assume the answer is the node title)

This is dedicated to those very special ladies of everything. I love you all:

Thank you and good night.

Being of European ancestory, trying to learn an Asian language was not easy. I struggled to form the sounds to piece together the words. I'm sure my mouth was never engineered to create these sounds, but I had ulterior motives. I was learning because I am, basically, an information junkie, because I have to know a little bit about everything, and because I had the desire to impress her.

I remember seeing her for the first time on the highway. I was driving behind her in her rusty chocolate brown Volvo station wagon, with the off color driver side fender and the missing front hub cap. As I approached her car in the left lane, I could see her graceful hand on the steering wheel with a cigarette held between the index and second finger. In her rear view mirror I could see her cute chin and beautiful lips. I caught a glimpse of those dark eyes when she looked down at something. I eased off of the gas so that I would pass her slowly, so that I would have time to drink in the beauty of this woman on the road.

I never dreamed that I would be sitting here with her, laughing, touching, wanting. I asked her again how to say the words. I tried to repeat...

Her laugh stuck a deep chord of curiosity in my bewildered mind. "What's so funny? What did I say?" I begged her to tell me.

The laugh trailed off into that giggle that only draws me closer to her. She tried unsuccessfully to stiffle the smile that stretched those beautiful red lips accross her small face. What you said.... was....(she paused and tilted her head so that she was looking at me out the side of her eye and I saw that little glint)

"You are as dazzling as a pregnant cow attired in electrical sockets"

So much for impressing her with my linguistic skills.

Pickup line used to great effect by Salvador Dali. Many are the times he woke up exhausted, but happy, next to a bicycle wearing a sandwich for a hat.

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