It was cool and breezy this morning, and I was in my kitchen most of the time, listening to my favorite, EVER, polka program. I used to listen to several of them when I lived in northeastern Pennsylvania, and visiting or staying with Gram B in Michigan. There are so many polka lovers all over this country, some of them in certain areas that were settled by many of the eastern European immigrants in the late 1800s and early 1900s. This program is from KSPC 88.7 fm, Claremont, California. You can get it on the computer at KSPC.org.
This morning was a good show as usual, and the DJ played quite a few new-to-him old LPs that his son bought at a large sale. Most of these songs were familiar to me, from listening to those long-ago programs, and dancing with my friends at polka dances in the 1980s and 1990s. The program runs for three hours, and how happy I am that it does!
I was puttering with my breakfasts (actually one prolonged breakfast) and taking care of some snail mail while in the kitchen. After one o'clock, I felt quite tired, and took a short power nap, but kept lying there resting, and finally it was almost an hour. I went outdoors to get the mail, and picked some of those adorable, lovely intruders, the dandelions, that try to get over here from my neighbor's. Plucking the blossoms off them and some of the leaves causes the dandelion plants with their extremely long taproots to devote a lot of attention on making further attempts to grow more leaves.
Googling 'getting rid of dandelions' I discovered that they indeed have such long taproots that it is quite impossible to pull them out for good. One has to use a special tool to loosen them all around, and then it is easier to get the entire taproot. If part of that is left in the ground, that little forceful root will eventually produce many more plants.
While outdoors, I noticed that it would be a good time to walk, so I put the key and ID in my pocket and set out with much pleasure. I went a short distance down the street to the side street that would take me on a little different route, and walked briskly. I did stop from time to time to catch my breath for about thirty seconds. I saw a young apparently middle-schooler throwing a basketball on their driveway. The net is tattered and torn, probably from his older brothers' use, but still useful. I waved a 'hi' at him, and went on.
I turned the upper corner and headed home. It was pleasant to take this different route. I stopped to study the very curly bark of an unusual birch tree. I would stop now and then to see an airplane rise in the air from the nearby airport.
How lovely to see that metal bird fly
Into the gorgeous azureous sky!
I'll see you at the Corner Post ...
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