I have no idea what the color of puce really is. It sounds really yucky which is why I picked it to describe the kind of day I had. Geez, Louise. I was busier than a three-legged cat covering up crap. As dear, ol’ Dad would say, “I’m too pooped to putt.”
Where Daddy got his sayings is anyone’s guess. As a kid, I often thought he just threw letters together and made up words. Pookey, gobbledygook, and jabberbox were some of his favorites. Later on I discovered that these were real words. Kinda disappointing to me.
Daddy played the guitar and sang. I remember the night he sang the song, Strawberry Roan. “Down in the horse corral standing alone was an old caballo, a Strawberry Roan. He had little pinears that met at the tip and big 44 brand on his left hip.”
Wow! I was so impressed. I thought Daddy made that whole song up on the fly. When he told me it was a honest-to-God-cowboy song, I didn’t believe him. (I think Marty Robbins sang it but I’m not sure.) It really burst my bubble when I found out the song was quite real and Daddy hadn’t written one word of it.
Another favorite song Daddy sang was, “Winkum, Blinkum, and Nod.” This song is a beautiful baby lullaby. It may sound corny, but the night my Sissy cat was dying, I rocked her and whispered the words in her tiny ear. I think I sang it more to comfort me than her, but she curled in my lap and quieted. To this day, I get teary-eyed thinking about it.
Didn’t mean to get sentimental on ya.
Back to my day. Busy, busy. When I got home, I poured a glass of iced-tea, hit the recliner, and waited for my dragging ass to crawl up the porch steps and knock on the door. And guess what? I get to do it all again tomorrow.
Like Daddy would say, “Gotta make hay while the sun shines!”