Tuesday, 28 February 2023
A mixed bag from the Old Bag
Thursday, 23 February 2023
Car Phones
Friday, 3 February 2023
Anyone for a Mackinaw?
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| A loading of icy rain. |
It is cold out there. When I was out on our porch for my
post-prandial cigarette (Yeah, I know) it was -26°C, translating to -11°F and it is
supposed to get even colder later on. I zipped up the coat I wear out there and
covered my head. I was, however, still in my Birkenstock sandals and I may have
to change them for fuzzy slippers at bedtime, the next scheduled trip into the
Vortex. (Or whatever) I was, as I zipped, reminded of a silly song I learned around a
campfire in my misspent youth, about a logger. One verse goes, as I recall, ‘At
forty degrees below zero, he buttoned up his vest.’ It does not say which zero
in the song, but when I was that young it was Fahrenheit. Okay, can’t spell
that. And since I have to go and find the spelling, (I forgot the first ‘h’) I
will find a link to the logger song, just for your enjoyment.
Here is the reference for the Frozen
Logger. I had no idea so many
people have ‘covered’ it. Here below are the frankly idiotic but fun lyrics in
entirety and, of course, I did not remember the line I wanted correctly. Only
the AC can do that, with hymns anyway, eh? And why, just in passing, can I not reduce the line values here to save space? Argh. I have edited punctuation and changed a few words for rhythm in this version. There are many.
As I stepped out one morning into a small cafe
A 40 year old waitress to me these words did say...
"I see, sir, you’re a logger, and not just a common bum
'Cause nobody but a logger stirs his coffee with his thumb.
My lover was a logger, there's none like him today.
If you'd pour whiskey on it, he'd eat a bale of hay.
My lover came to see me, ’twas on one freezing day.
He threw his arms around me and broke three vertebrae.
I saw my lover leaving, trudging through the snow
Up going gaily homeward at 48 below.
I learned this one differently, as:
'My lover he did kiss me, so hard he broke my jaw.
I could not speak to tell him he forgot his Mackinaw. '
The weather tried to freeze him, it tried its level best;
At a thousand degrees below zero, he buttoned up his vest’
It froze clear through to China, it froze to the stars above
At a million degrees below zero, it froze my logger love.
And so I lost my lover, and to this cafe I come
And here I wait 'til someone stirs his coffee with his thumb."
There were lots of photos, but I can’t resist adding at least one of my own, heading off this less than coherent offering of a post. I will not add a shot of the thermometer. Lots of us are doing that.
The Unwrap
Christmas has come, and my family has come and gone, well fed and bearing gifts. Mind you, they came bearing gifts. The YD took a photo of...


