What a difference some sunshine and a few Fahrenheit degrees can make!
It was getting depressing looking outside and seeing gray and feeling cold. Sticks and branches on yellow and brown dead-looking lawns. Blach. Dirty piles of snow. Yuck. And, then . . .
. . . Sunday morning coming down, the sky turned blue, the wind died down, the birds started singing and heck, the temperatures reached up to the mid 40s. All was right with the world. Well, at least our neck of the woods in Southeastern Michigan.
(Holy Cow. I’m singing praises for mid-40 degree weather? I need a life!)
At any rate, whilst I was out breaking up branches, sticks and twigs (and then making piles based on length, thickness and species) I had time to rheumante. And, the one thought that kept on interrupting deep thoughts was, ‘My face itches.?
Now, I could have thought about wearing gloves because of my blood-dripping fingeral digits, or my mud soaked sneakers and socks. But, I didn’t. I thought my face was itchy. Hmm. Then I remembered, ‘Oh, I grew beard.?
If you think back real hard, you may well recall I wrote I would, and I did. If you don’t recall, sometime during the first week of February I wrote:
I remember there was a time — actually most of my adult life — when I would grow a facial hair. Yep, back before the TV show Duck Dynasty made beards popular, yours truly had a nice, manicured one. I guess that puts me ahead of the curve on the men’s fashion list.
Sometimes I would just grow it in the fall. Sometimes I would grow it for the winter. And, some years I had it even in the hot summer months. I shaved it off about six or seven years ago because the red beard that I knew and loved, was invaded by patches o? gray — most noticeably right on my chin.
Youngest son, Sean, said with his little boy voice that he didn’t like it that I had removed the beard. ‘I hope you grow it back soon.?
I remember thinking, ‘Thanks, you little six-year-old puke. I like the way your face looks, too.? I said nothing and to show my independence didn’t grow it back . . .
. . . until this weekend.
I wondered how much gray has crept in said beard? So, this past Saturday I just shaved under the jowls and on top of the cheeks. It’s kinda of an experiment on aging. I will report back in a few weeks.
Well, I reckon I was negligent in reporting back ‘in a few weeks.?
So, how much gray is there in this mess on my face. In a word, ‘a lot.? (Okay, that’s two words, but lots of times folks make it one so I’m sticking to it.) It ain’t totally gray, but I’d say it’s living the 80-20 rule: 80 percent of my beard has given up and turned gray; 20 percent is putting up the good fight and staying reddish.)
I suppose I could shave it, but I had already told Sean I would shave it only when the weather hit 60 degrees or when the Tigers when the World Series. I am hoping it will hit 60 degrees soon.
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Speaking of the Detroit Tigers professional baseball team, Who Is Your Tiger?
Is it pitcher Justin Verlander or that two-hued eye guy, Max Scherzer? Do you like super-duper rich Miguel Cabrera or utility player DKB (Donny Kelly, Baby)?
The gals in our office are all agog over the Tigers new manager, Brad Ausmus. They like the ‘hunk? factor of this, your Detroit Tigers team.
My favorite all-time Tiger is the late first baseman Stormin? Norman Cash. When I was a teen, I used to like utility player Johnny Wockenfuss because of his funny batting stance (and I liked saying his name.) My favorite Detroit pitcher is Mickey Lolich (because he made the best donuts in Lake Orion) and my favorite interview with a Detroit Tiger was with Hall of Fame pitcher Hal Newhouser.
Monday was the season opener for 2014. Any predictions?