So, it's back in with the old. I wrote this last year as the new year dawned. Hope you enjoy the music from Casting Crowns.

It's out with the old and in with the new. Yeah you're gonna lose that 20 pounds this year. You gonna start that novel that 's been rattling around your head all of your adult life . You gonna start looking forward and stop looking backward. Pray more. Laugh more; frown less. You're going to...change. And not a phony baloney Obamassiah kind of change, but instead, the real McCoy. An actual brunette to blond, fat to muscle metamorphosis. You've given up on Poe and you've adopted Sam Clements. Or maybe the other way around. In any event, another year has flown by. With the new year you sense something big on the horizon. Something life altering. For you? For all of us? You pray that we'll all still be here healthy, happy and making the same tired and unfulfilled resolutions this time next year. You take inventory of your life and realize with profound reverence that life is good and that, despite your moments of doubt, the mercy and grace of God is enough to sustain you. Regardless of kings, queens or tyrants.



Happy New Year Blogosphere!

What Christmas is all about...

This will get posted at a gazillion blogs today. Merry Christmas one and all from the boys at MTH!

I'm my own grandpaw...

Once upon a time I met a lady who married her late husband's brother, who, as it turns out, was also her second cousin. She had three children by her first husband (the late one), and two more by her second husband, the former brother in law. So effectively, her kids were cousins and half brothers/sisters. Throw in the fact that she was also a cousin to both husbands and the whole thing becomes to difficult to decipher. I always hoped to be invited to their family reunion, but alas, it did not come to pass.

Which brings me to this: I am my own Grandpaw. Grandpaw is one of the great novelty songs ever recorded. Written inn 1947 by Dwight Latham and Moe Jaffe, Granpaw has been recorded by damn near every novelty singer and then some (Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, etc). Below is the Ray Stevens version complete with diagram. Enjoy.



And here is an added bonus: What else would you expect from MTH? Don't answer that.

Re: Of Pond and Drought

As I told Reid the other day, I thank almighty God for a peeable back yard.

Which reminds me of my first real estate deal.

I represented a guy down in Fountain Inn who was looking for a "double wide out in the country". Well Fountain Inn is the Shangri-La of double wides out in the country, and, as it happened, I found the fellow the perfect set up: An 1800 square foot, brick underpinned palace perched on 3 wooded acres. Why it was the finest tin-dominium in Laurens County. At least he thought so. As it was, my client was a good ole Fountain Inn born and bred country boy, devoid of any city slicker pretense. After a while, I grew pretty familiar with his laid back demeanor and a little of my own mill hill refinement just couldn't help but ease it's way into our conversation. We were standing out in the back yard, checking out the lot, and before I could stop myself I said: You know, you've got a lot of privacy here. This is the kind of back yard you can whizz in any time you want to. Well, needless to say, that went against everything I learned in Real Estate School; but after hanging around with the guy all day, I knew he'd appreciate the comment. We both had a good laugh and two hours later I had my first signed contract. Sometimes you just have to be yourself.

And again, thank Heaven for the leaf and the piddle.

Of Pond and Drought

The Pond and the Drought
Larry Reid


There is a pond
In a depression below
Into it tiny springs
and rainwater flow
While perched up above
a log cabin on high
Which sits on the hill
between pond and sky

And each was at home
in it's own little spaces
and pond top reflected
smiling, happy faces

There is a deep well
at the top of the hill
a cold-water well
500 feet they did drill
And said well feeds
the log cabin on high
which finds it's place
between pond and sky

Over the years
the drought settled in
rainwater stopped and
springs trace grew thin
and proud, mighty pond
once teeming with life
oh my goodness started fighting
a fight for it's life

And I in my cabin
constructed a perch
A high, lofty deckwalk
home to cardinal and finch
from this perch I spied
the pond and it's woes
I began to get worried
"What if away it goes?"

I concocted a plan
decided course of reason
pond level depends not
on hot or cold season
It counts on the input
of H2O bounty
a scarce, scarce commodity
in this midlands county
So how would we feed
the pond down below?
Wait for some rain or the springs to start flow?
No! I surmised
And said "what the heck"
I whooped out the hoser
and peed off the deck

The steaming stream ran down
toward pond with no sound
but alas disappeared
swallowed up by dry ground
"More", said I. "More!"
And started to swill
I drank and drank water
which fed from the well
So it became habit
to look out beyond
and pee from the deck
to try and fill up that pond

I peed through the winter
In summer's warm eve
I peed by my lonely
Or with Gary and Steve
I peed before bedtime
Or when I arose
I peed off that deck until
pond level rose
I peed and I peed
from that deck it did flow
and pond level topped out
as fat as she goes

Satisfied with level
I cut off the flow
Now I pee like a socialite
in porcelain bowl
At times I get lonely
for natural relief
to stand out in nature
to piddle on a leaf
I resist the temptation
because of one thing obscene
the once proud, proud pond
is reclassified a "Peend"

The End