I mow my own lawn.
– Ron Reagan
Rain is nice. And rain is needed. And I know, I know, the farmers like rain.
Lately we’ve gotten so much that my lawn needs mowing twice a week.
That’s not happening, of course, because it’s always raining or the thick, thick grass is too wet to cut when I’m not working.
“You’re not happy unless you have something to complain about,” observes my wife.
I guess that’s why I stay happy.
YOUR TRAVELS: Some of you are happy on vacations.
Elizabeth Copeland sends a postcard from New Mexico and reports: “We have visited 6 national monuments and 1 national park.”
Tom Fender and fraternity brother Ralph Marcano enjoyed “great Florida weather.”
Gail and Milton Sheppard, of Thomson, sent our only Connecticut postcard. The weather, they say, was cold and rainy. They also sent an earlier card from Maine.
Gary and Brenda Hardy, of Dearing, visited relatives in Mississippi.
Barry Dickson, of Augusta, sends a postcard from Pennsylvania, where he attended an old-car event.
“The featured car this year is the Crosley,” he writes, “which is about the only car made smaller than my Nash Metropolitan.”
Randall and Rosiland Simmons were traveling across the U.S., headed to Pikes Peak. They “stopped in Dodge City – flat land and cooler weather.”
Lauren Turner, of Grovetown, enjoyed a weekend on Hilton Head Island, S.C., which she called “absolutely fantastic”: “Got to take a boat ride to see all the island and got to feed and pet some dolphins.”
Kayleigh Broxton, Jack O’Tyson and Joy Broxton took a “getaway” to Brunswick, Ga.: “Bringing back lots of shells and a horseshoe crab ... can’t seem to escape the rain.”
Regular travelers Pat and Wayne Fuller, of North Augusta, found lots of people as they visited Pigeon Forge, Tenn.
And former Augusta resident Adam Folk sent a card from Wisconsin featuring the famous “Door County fish boil.”
“It reminded me of a ‘low-country boil’ with fish instead of shrimp,” he writes.
TODAY’S JOKE: Bill Wood, of Hephzibah, shares this one:
The teacher asked little Johnny if he knew his numbers.
“Yes,” he said. “I do. My father taught me.”
“Good. What comes after three.”
“Four,” answered the boy.
“What comes after six?”
“Very good,” said the teacher. “Your dad did a good job. What comes after 10?”
“A jack,” Johnny said.