Then One Day ...

Hey, thanks for taking a look at "old Squiggles" ... If you'd like to visit the new Squiggles, in a new location, here's the link:

squiggles2.blogspot.com


Thank you.

Summertime Blues

JUST AS the gate is coming down ... the train is pulling out ... the ship is getting underway ... the plane is ... 

Actually, just as I’m trying to flex my stiffened fingers, get my aching back under control, and ease my ancient body into the creaking chair in front of the computer ... then sitting here wondering what to say about this past week ... there comes an e-mail from LOREE (Kansas), which says, in part:

Better late than never?

I’m not only dreaming of spring (last week’s poem), but desperate for it ... another nine inches of snow, and temps that don’t kow which way is UP!

Today, I’m nursing a pulled something or other, in my back on the left side.  I was desperate to make a path to the trash cans, so I used the leaf blower to try and blow away some of the snow.  

That worked pretty well, except that the inch and a half, or maybe two inch opening, on the bottom of the 'wand' is pretty darned small for moving nine inches of snow!  Finally gave up and got the snow shovel for the last six feet or so.  

Now I can get my walks without walking in snow ... back and forth between the carport (I cleaned that the day before!) and the trash cans!  Better than nothing.

Take care and take it from me ... DON'T go shoveling snow!

-S&G-

GOOD ADVICE, Loree. Just a bit late, though, so I’ll try to remember that for next time.

Meanwhile, this time ... which seems to have covered about 40 days and 40 nights ... we’ve been “shut in,” too. I vaguely remember getting out of the house on Monday.

Then the snows came. And the rain. Freezing rain. Then more snow. For a couple of days, all we could do was watch. Finally, though, the clouds parted ... and there was the SUN!

That was yesterday. With Phyllis, the long-suffering Phyllis, my navigator and closest advisor, at my side ... or in front of me ... or behind me ... watching carefully for signs that I was slipping ... on the ice, that is ... we tackled the driveway.

The steep part was so FROZEN that it was like dancing on a slanting iceberg with only an ice pick for a partner.

That was yesterday. Today was a repeat performance, as we resumed our efforts to expose some of the bricks to the air. Tonight, far from being revved up and ready to churn out another installment of “Squiggles,” I feel like I’m ready for a body sling.

The silver lining in this great storm cloud from which we’re finally emerging ... during the whole ordeal, our lights winked and blinked, but ... unlike thousands of others ... we never actually lost power.

Also, we had that previously-mentioned sunshine yesterday and today. It warmed our backs a little. Gave us hope, too.

Also ... and this is a BIG ALSO ... late today our favorite tree person showed up to dispose of the huge tree limb ... and I do mean HUGE ... which had been blocking the garage doors all week.  Whoopee! Free at last!

Now ... where did I put that body sling?

-S&G-

TODAY’S POEM: (Please forgive me, if I’ve forced this one on you in recent weeks) No, I don't have the summertime blues. 

Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact. My fingers are more like icicles dangling over an arctic expanse of keyboard, here in this same corner of the house which was so steaming hot, just a few months ago.

But I like to go against the flow, and today is one of those days.

I thought it might be fun to dwell for a few moments on that now-delicious heat which has become so cherished because of its absence. In other words, I like it now, miss it, now that it's gone.

The poem:

SUMMERTIME BLUES

I've got those

low-down,

good for nothin'

summertime blues.

My handkerchief

has wilted,

my shorts have

turned to glue,

my socks have

already melted

and run down

into my shoes.

Oh, I've got 'em bad,

as bad as they can be,

those prickly-pested,

heat infested

good for nothin'

summertime blues. 

(originally published in Capper's)

-S&G-

COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 

Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to

rbrimm@peoplepc.com

... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)

-S&G-

Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:

http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/

Thanks for paying a visit.

-S&G-         

UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!

-S&G-

© 2011

Two Below

 
(Not a recent photo, but an example of what can, and does, happen sometimes in my back yard)


I DON’T KNOW how many of you remember last week ... I said something about being brief ... then went on and on.


Well, this is brief. 


-S&G-


A RECENT DISPATCH ... from LOREE (Kansas) went something like this:


After being a prisoner in my own home during that week of cold weather, it has finally warmed up just enough that I ventured out of the warm bed, in search of food.  


Like an old bear waking from its winter sleep, I stretched a bit, avoided looking in a mirror, and went into the galley.  My kitchen is so small that I call it the galley, as it well deserves.


I was almost afraid to open the fridge, or cabinet doors, as I feared that the food might be all gone.

Eventually though, I got up the nerve to open a cupboard door, and was overjoyed that, indeed, something was there! I commenced dancing around (in my aged, weakened state) celebrating, by saying:

Old Mother Hubbard,
Went to her cupboard,
And found, to her surprise ...
It wasn't bare,
For sitting there,
Were rows of pizza pies!

Don't you just love pizza when there is no choice?!


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “They amaze me - these drivers who go speeding around me, sometimes even in school zones - then I find them at the next red light, just sitting there ... waiting for a brain transplant, I suppose.” - Professor Squigglee


-S&G-


RECENT MAIL ... this item from HOMER (Illinois), a detailed list of who reads what ... among them: 1. The Wall Street Journal is read by the people who run the country, 2. The Washington Post is read by people who think they run the country ... 11. The National Enquirer is read by people trapped in line at the grocery store, 12. The Winston-Salem Journal is read by people who have recently caught a fish and need something to wrap it in. 


-S&G-


BOOK NOOK: I’m still, in my spare time, working on Chronology of Native Americans, by Greg O’Brien. I’m also working my way through The Treasury of English Poetry, edited by Mark Caldwell and Walter Kendrick. I keep that one at bedside. 


And what’s on your reading table ... or electronic device?


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM: This is a winter poem. No doubt about that.


It's reminiscent of Northern Illinois, where we spent several bitterly cold winters, but it was written during, and about, winter in Ohio ... or any place where temperatures sink unmercifully low, then struggle to rise, fall again, struggle again ... fall.


Little wonder that we find an unnamed couple sleeping under that "pale slice of lemon floating in thin clouds" ... "like two ... bears dreaming of spring."


This one was originally published in Southern Humanities Review:


TWO BELOW


Pale slice of lemon
floating in thin clouds
far above temperatures
fallen, clicking,
struggling to rise
where they were
some time yesterday
before falling back
in the sullen darkness
that will cradle us
like two sleeping bears
dreaming of spring.


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-         


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


© 2011

If Elected

I’ll try to be brief. Remember ... I said I’ll TRY. 


This has been one of those weeks. Something like ... what was that old saying? ... “The faster I go, the behinder I get.” So here it is, Friday night again ... ALREADY ... and not only have I barely started to think about “Squiggles,” there’s a place I have to be tonight.


But don’t worry. The long curving, sloping, looping, sweeping driveway that eventually winds up at the stables and servants’ quarters here at Brimm Manor ... has been cleared of snow ... so I should be able to get out and ... more important ... back in to pick up the loose threads of “Squiggles.”


That clearing of the driveway was done largely thanks to Stephen ... who happened by at just the right time to take over the major (steepest) portion and leave just a bit of tidying up for Phyllis and me. (I’m the “supervisor” in all this ... but that’s strictly off the record, so please don’t tell anybody).


So I started out by saying I’d be brief, remember? Well, maybe next time.


-S&G-


AS SOME OF YOU may know, Professor Squigglee is fairly lenient when it comes to giving out grades ... but he does check attendance.


LOREE (Kansas) no doubt had this in mind when she wrote to explain her absence of last week: 


I had this problem....it was so darned cold, that I stayed under the covers and on the heated mattress pad ... almost 24 / 7 !  


In fact, to be quite honest, the only time I ventured out from that nest was when the mattress pad kicked off (automatically, after so many hours) and the bed got cold.  That was a great time to turn it on all over again, and while it was warming the bed again, I would try to figure out what day it was, if it were morning or evening, so I could open the correct container on the pill box, snarf those down, and after a pit stop, hit the bed running!


On Thursday, my weekly visit to the beauty shop culminated in my getting my hair chopped off ... SHORT!  And of course, we were still in the throes of that week of living with the Artic Express.


But hey, when it comes down to wearing a stocking cap, or saving my hairdo, the cap won out!


-S&G-


BOOK NOOK: I’m just getting up to speed with Chronology of Native Americans, by Greg O’Brien. I’m also working my way through The Treasury of English Poetry, edited by Mark Caldwell and Walter Kendrick. I keep that one at bedside, and usually end my day with it. 


And what’s on your reading table ... or electronic device?


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “We’ve had a bit of snow here in Ohio (perhaps you heard) - but it is winter, you know. How bad was it? Well, it was so bad that ... believe it or not ... some drivers had slowed down ... almost down to the posted (safe-under-perfect-conditions) speed limit. Can you believe?” - Professor Squigglee


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM: For those who may have stolen a look at the poem before reading the introduction ... Don't worry. I'm not running for office.


Honest. I'm not planning any long-winded speeches, I won't be asking for money ... or even your vote ... and I certainly won't be making any promises I can't keep. I promise you that.


Then what?


Today's poem was written at another time ... in another place ... when and where it seemed that everybody else in the whole universe was vying for a position at the public trough.




It was a time when politicians were talking our ears off ... and dogs were barking all night. What a wonderful combination, I thought ... and there's no disrespect for dogs intended in that, I assure you.


If I WERE to be elected ... to anything ... it seemed to me at the time ... I would prefer to be the officeholder responsible for "mudging" curs (whatever that means) ... not the first time that a responsibility has been invented out of pure air (remember when we still had some of that?) ... in order to garner the votes of the undecided ... and unsuspecting ...


Well, from there it was strictly downhill ... and fast. But I had fun with the poem (remember, no disrespect for dogs intended). Here it is:




IF ELECTED


When finally I have
attained full growth,
I think that I
should like to be
a curmudgeon, which,
I'm told by my pal,
clear-eyed Ed,
is one who
mudges curs.




It's the least they
deserve for barking
all night at nothing
in particular while
decent folk are
pounding pillows,
trying to sleep,
but only attaining
grouchyhoodedness.




I promise, if elected,
not to be stingy
with my curmudgeoning.
© 1997




(originally published in Parnassus Literary Journal)




-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-         


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


© 2011

Anybody There?

Whoa! Time is flying, isn’t it? We must be having tons of fun, for here it is the middle of January already. Seems like only yesterday that it was the middle of December ... and some of us ... Professor Squigglee and I, at least ... were starting to give some thought to beginning our Christmas shopping.


And now all the wrapping paper is gone, some of the toys are broken, some need new batteries, and the tree ... well, the tree is just a memory, too. Where does the time go so fast?


Somebody ... and I won’t get specific, for fear of sounding political (No politics or religion here, remember? We don’t want any fights breaking out in the parking lot after The Prof dismisses class) ... but somebody must be spending some of our time FOR us ... and quite a bit of it, at that.


How else could we explain our having so little time of our own? Why, I can remember ... and you probably can, too ... in the days before TV and all these electronic gizmos that beep and BONK, whistle and HONK! ... when we had tons of time ... not just on our hands, but all over the place.


Time just seemed to creep along ... and now it’s supersonic. Oops! There goes another big chunk of it ... gone in a flash, much like our ready cash.   


-S&G-


THIS JUST IN: Actually, it’s a bit more than “just in” ... but still timely, I think. It’s from LOREE (Kansas), who said in the e-mail which brought her poem to me: “Christmas was a mess this year ... people coming and going each and every day, some staying overnight, while I provided room service, maid service, and everything in between. I wrote this little ditty, that says it all”:
  
Twas The Day After Christmas

Twas the day after Christmas,
The place was a mess ...
With ribbons and tissue
Near up to my chest.

The guests were asleep,
All tucked in their beds ...
And when they wake up
Is something I dread.

For all will be hungry,
A bit cranky too ...
No help for me at all,
In cleaning I do.

Thank goodness that  Christmas
Just comes once a year ...
For it strains my patience
And dims my good cheer!
 (c)  Loree (Mason) O'Neil
      
-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “Sometimes I feel like a wind-up person trying to find my way around in a digital world.” - Professor Squigglee


-S&G-


BOOK NOOK: Next on my reading list is Chronology of Native Americans, by Greg O’Brien. I spotted it on one of the bargain tables at Borders and simply couldn’t pass it by. And what’s on your reading table ... or electronic device?


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM: Even when “Squiggles” was an e-mailed weekly newsletter ... ah, those were the days, remember? ... there were times when I wondered if anybody was reading it.


It was sort of like putting a message in a bottle and dropping it in the surf ... I couldn’t be sure who was going to open it ... read it ... and, glory be, respond.


I guess that was the seed from which today’s poem sprouted. Please note, though, that there’s a twist at the ... well, you’ll have to see ... and judge ... for yourself.


Meanwhile:


ANYBODY THERE?


If I were to begin
sharing my poetry,
all these feverish
things I've written,
would anybody hear me?
Would anybody listen
during "open mike"?
Would bus passengers
get up and move out
of earshot? Would
strangers dart down
dark alleys? Would 
cats cross the street,
dogs whine, beg off?
Would - I say, would
you please wake up?


(originally published in PKA's Advocate)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-         


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


© 2011

My Sunday Stroll

(Some of you may find that portions of this installment sound familiar ... so maybe I do repeat myself. In that case, I congratulate you on your fine memory ... and your patience. And I'll explain next week ... maybe)


A few days ago I was driving down a four-lane street ... minding my own business ... and the speed limit, I might add ... when I noticed a young couple with an infant in a stroller up ahead.


They were in a mid-block, marked crosswalk, halfway across the street, headed for the side I was driving along.


I stopped short of the crosswalk, turned on my four-way flashers ... and sat there ... while about half a dozen drivers pulled around me and went whizzing past.


Finally, another driver stopped beside me, so we had both of our lanes blocked, for the moment. The trio ventured out ... she waved a thank-you to us ... they got safely across ... and went on.


I’m not here to condemn those other drivers ... far be it from me to cast the first stone in the driving department ... I don’t know who those other drivers were, or what vital, urgent errands they were on.


I couldn’t help thinking, though, of how loudly their actions speak of a general disrespect for the law ... and for others ... as I witness it on the streets and highways these days ... and drivers’ disregard for the safety of themselves ... and others.


Will we never learn?


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “I’m always very careful, so this is quite unlikely to happen ... but just suppose I were to crawl out of bed some morning ... and get my flip-flops on the wrong feet. Would they then be considered flop-flips?” - Professor Squigglee


-S&G-


AND ANOTHER ... Phyllis’ late father was a collector ... of sayings, among other things ... and here’s one now:


Now is the time to plan your life,
If you would make your mark;
You know it wasn’t raining
When Noah built the ark.


-S&G-


LOOKING BACK ... all the way to the Monday, April 7, 2003 issue of S&G ... “I was strolling through a mall the other day, minding my own business, when I suddenly saw this huge sign ... RETRO SHOES ... in one of the windows. Well! I can imagine what those are. Once you’ve got ‘em on, you stand up (if you can) ... and start walking ... BACKWARDS.”


-S&G-


LOOKING BACK (AGAIN) ... this time to an e-mail late last year from LOREE (Kansas) ... in which she suggested an installment about our first real “paying” jobs ... where actual money was involved. 


Loree said she was about nine or ten ... and hers went like this:


Ah, yes ... memories of my first real paying job! I was a kid in New York State, and Freckles and I got a REAL job ... in more ways than one! First we rode our bicycle (that’s right ... ONE bicycle for the two of us to share) ... and we rode about four or five miles to a truck farm that raised produce near Lake Ontario. We called it a “muck farm,” since the soil was so rich ... and if damp, about like concrete!


Anyway, our job was to get down on our knees and traverse the length of the rows, pulling out WEEDS! ... sun boiling down ... wiping the sweat from our foreheads with grimy, gritty hands. And at the end of the day ... the long trek back home. But, hey, we were paid FIFTY CENTS a day for our efforts!


-S&G-


REMEMBER WHEN ... Laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the box? - courtesy of WALT (Ohio)


-S&G-


YOU KNOW ... you’re a Floridian if ... Your winter coat is made of denim. - courtesy of HELEN (Florida)


-S&G-


ANOTHER QUOTE ... “Aspire to inspire before you expire.” - courtesy of TIL (Illinois)


-S&G-  


TODAY’S POEM ... First of all, let me say this: I’ve got nothing against dogs. Some of my best friends, especially during my growing up years, were pooches ... and we got along splendidly, roaming the hills, sharing adventures, pausing occasionally to take in the view.


Why is it, then, that nowadays dogs ... not all, but a lot of them ... seem to have this compulsion to express their disdain for me? 


It’s almost as though I owe them money ... or look like someone who might steal a bone from them. Not me, buddy ... not me.


Still, there’s that bit of animosity they seem to harbor, as detailed in today’s poem. (All I ask is that you read it silently ... I don’t want any more canines getting the wrong idea about me): 


MY SUNDAY STROLL


How brave the dogs
crashing into the fence,
bark-bark-barking
at me on the other side.


Are they afraid I'll jump
the barrier (at my age)
and attack them?
Does the fence make them


brave, as brave as I am?
Only inches from
flashing, pointed teeth,
agitated, syncopated paws,


those raging eyes, rising
hackles, I stroll serenely
past as superior as a cat,
knowing that the fence


will corner abruptly and they
must stop, game over,
while I, clearly the winner,
hear only the cheering
crowd as I quit the field.


(originally published in Moose Bound Press)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com




... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-

© 2011   

A New Leaf

Now the fun begins.


What fun? Why, for one thing, trying to remember to write 2011, instead of 2010, in all those places where I’m expected to indicate the current date.


And just when I had finally learned to write 2010 automatically ... well, semi-automatically, at least ... instead of 2009.


Oh, well, I guess it’s only fitting that I ended the year like I began it, clinging to the trailing edge of technology ... and most everything else, it seems ... by my slippery fingertips.


That aside, I am proud to announce that I kept all of my resolutions for this past year. 


Actually, I made just one ... but I stuck to it, through thick and thin.


And what was that? Why, I RESOLVED TO MAKE NO RESOLUTIONS. Having gotten through the year without breaking that one and only ... I hereby resolve to make the same resolution for the new year. I think I can keep it, too. 


This doesn’t mean that I’m casting aside all the rules. I’ll likely follow my lifelong pattern of observing the rules ... playing by the rules ... living by the rules ... even when they apply to such mundane things as driving ... and eating ... and simply doing the right thing, even if there’s no police officer ... or canine deputy ... keeping an eye on me. 


That said ... HAPPY NEW YEAR! (And please do ... if you’re not too involved with shaping your own resolutions ... take a look at today’s poem (below), entitled “A New Leaf”)


-S&G-


REMEMBER the previous installment of S&G? We needn’t have a show of hands on that ... after all, that was LAST YEAR ... right?


Never fear, Professor Squigglee just reminded me ... as though I were the absent-minded one ... that I’d mentioned an adventure by LOREE (Kansas), involving a bargain Christmas tree that she found ... but wasn’t allowed to buy. 


And I’d promised to share the details of that this week ... so here they are, essentially as related by Loree:


My brother-in-law took me shopping at the local Dollar General. I bought three or four small items, then told him I wanted to look at the Christmas trees.  


I knew exactly what I wanted ... a white one with fiber optic lights ALREADY on it!  Well, it turned out they had two six-foot white trees, with fiber optic lights!  Just what I wanted, so he reached up and got one, and put it in the shopping cart. At $35 I thought it was a good buy.


They only had one register open for checking out, so we had to work our way to the head of the line.  The cashier promptly scanned the bar code on the tree, then rang up the rest of my purchases.  


“Seven twenty-nine total, please,” she said.  


I came close to dropping my upper plate.  Finally I said, “I'd be happy to pay that for my purchases, but you've made a mistake.”


She said, “Oh yes ... the tree.”  


She carefully went over the register ticket, and then said, “Oh, my!  The tree has pennied out!”  


Well, that was the first time I had EVER heard that phrase.  So I said, “The tree is only a penny?  In that case, I'll buy both of them!”


She replied, “There's another one there?”


“Yes, there were two of them on the shelf, exactly alike, and both marked $35 each.”


“Pennied Out,” the clerk said, “means that I can't sell it, nor can YOU BUY IT!”


“But it is EXACTLY what I want,” I said.  “I'm willing to pay the $35 the tag said.”


At this point the manager came strutting up, reached and removed my tree from my cart, and said, “You can't buy it!”

I then ask her, “Why are THEY on the shelves, on display, and have a price tag?”


She rifled through a stack of papers ... then, in a tone that indicated she was talking either to a disappointed four-year-old, or an imbecile, she said, “Whomever opens the store first thing in the morning checks memos for 'pennied out' items, which means they must be sent back.  There was no memo on the trees, for some reason, BUT YOU CAN'T BUY IT!”


While all of this was going on, I had paid the clerk the $7.29 I owed for other items, so I responded, for the benefit of the gathering and enthralled line behind me, “Oh, to heck with it!  We'll just go to WAL-MART!”


And I'm so glad that neither the clerk, NOR the manager said “Merry Christmas” right then.


(Thanks, Loree ... I had never encountered that term either. Now I’ll be extra careful not even to try to buy something that’s been “pennied out” ... but how will I know, until it’s too late?)


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM: As I indicated earlier, I don't do New Year's resolutions now ... haven't written them out for a number of years.


But I think each day ... whether I crawl slowly out of bed, hoping the floor will rise up gently to touch my feet ... or leap out ready to face whatever the day may hold for me ... each day offers this opportunity for that "new leaf" ... a new beginning of sorts.


I've encountered some detours along the way. But here I am, still plodding along, still being drawn along by what may lie ahead, around the next bend in the road.


So I guess I do think sometimes about that "new leaf," too.


Meanwhile, the poem:




A NEW LEAF


How soothing the sound
of it, like the feel
of clean sheets, crisp
and cool to the touch,
hinting airy freshness
as we snuggle in.
How comforting it is
to lie here thinking
of this whole new year
fresh and inviting,
opening the prospect
that things might be
better, perhaps could
be, if we could just
approach each new day
with the same sense
of purpose we feel
at this moment.
© 1999
(originally published in Capper's)


-S&G-



COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-         


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


© 2011