July 31, just as every single year since, well, I’m not going there except I will tell you I’ve reached an age where I brag about it instead of lying about it ... as in:
“Can you believe I’m blank-years-old? Ain’t I pretty? Takes me an hour to shave every morning.”
Then I take honest:
“Truth is I use an electric razor. That way I don’t have to look at myself when I shave.”
Anyway, did I mention that I had a birthday this past week?
I did? Well, all those years, you know ...
Anyway, it was really a good birthday.
For one thing, God showed up for my birthday. In fact, He was first to wish me “Happy Birthday.”
Let me tell you about that.
As I mentioned, I had a birthday this past week, July 31, which was Tuesday. That was also the day marked on the calendar that I HAD to mow the grass ... that Zoysia out there I’ve mentioned.
The stuff grows so fast, I have to cut it twice a week. Skip a day and you need a bush hog to catch up.
Anyway, along about daylight I awoke with the fact I had to get up and cut the grass on MY birthday. Which is when God showed up with my first present.
Outside, it was raining the proverbial “cats ‘n dogs” and that meant no mowing the grass on MY birthday, Tuesday, July 31, 2012. You could call it the luck of the draw, but I knew it was by the Grace of God that I did not have to mow the grass on MY birthday.
So, with the blonde off in Ohio on family matters, I turned on the TV, clicked on “Morning Joe,” and pulled a pillow over my head to block out the babble which has become as normal to “Morning Joe” as all those other shows that try to explain to me why the World Bank is behind the rising cost of corn flakes.
Then I remembered I had an early morning date with a friend, breakfast at Jack’s. Pulled on some pants, took care of that little matter, which is when I got my second birthday present of July 31, this year.
The people at Jack’s are very nice, but they have this thing of singing “Happy Birthday” to customers. The people at Jack’s did NOT know it was my birthday and they did NOT sing to me on MY birthday, July 31, this year.
So, there you have it. My second present of the day, in that I hate people singing “Happy Birthday” to me, public or private.
Anyway, after breakfast I drove through a gorgeous downpour back to house, got out, went in, shut the door, went back to bed.
Didn’t get much sleep. People who knew it was my birthday ...
The blonde called from Ohio. Son-and-heir was in Huntsville on business. He called. Oldest sister called from “up on the hill on Saks Road.” Youngest sister called from Golden Springs.
So ... after a while, I got up, went in the kitchen, and started on a list the blonde had left for me on the refrigerator door. It was right next to another note she had left ...
“Happy birthday Tuesday, darling ... love you very much. And don’t forget to pick my peppers. If you don’t, well ...”
So, I picked the peppers.
I also got out a knife and worked up a basket of Chilton County peaches that were headed toward ruin. Put peach mess in plastic bag.
Knife still in hand, I worked up a lovely cantaloupe given to me by a friend in Randolph County. Put cantaloupe mess in plastic bag.
Put sliced cantaloupe and peaches in plastic containers, put in fridge, went to garbage can.
Then I got out a book, took phone off hook, turned on the TV in den, and had myself a wonderful birthday ... even if baby brother did NOT call from Omega, Ga.
End of birthday story ...
But I DON’T want to talk about Wednesday, Aug.1, this year, the day after my birthday, July 31.
I will say the sun came out, the temp shot up, the humidity was a hot bath, the lovely Zoysia grass had grown at least six feet.
I cut the grass ... Satan laughed ... I wept.
George Smith can be reached at 256-239-5286 or e-mail: email@example.com