So Commissioner Joe Bowles goes to the Richmond County Republican Party breakfast and says exactly what he thinks about Commissioners Alvin Mason's and Corey Johnson's city gasoline usage, the abolition of God from the public schools, city employees and other matters while a tape recorder is running.

So he ends up in the Metro Spirit newspaper and online saying all that, plus a few things about Sheriff Ronnie Strength poor-mouthing about his budget.

He apologized in a letter to the newspaper, but that didn't stop Commissioner J.R. Hatney from putting an item on last week's commission agenda to discuss those comments, along with Commissioner Jerry Brigham's remarks about how hard it is to get city employees to cut back when commissioners are lining up at the gas pumps for free gas.

When it came up Tuesday, Mr. Bowles said, "I have apologized for certain words I chose to use. I did make two definite errors in my judgment during that speech."

I think that was when he said he didn't want to say Mr. Mason and Mr. Johnson have a "welfare mentality" but an "entitlement mentality."

He said the editor had obviously edited his comments to make them appear to be an attack on the public school system, city employees and commissioners.

"It was definitely not that," he said.

Commissioner Calvin Holland said apologies are nice, but it reminded him of an attorney making a statement that the judge tells the jury to disregard.

"But the damage has been done," he said. "The seed has been planted. The statements have been made. The insults are there, not only toward the commissioners but to the community, the school system, the sheriff's department has been insulted. And they have been insulted by one of our elected officials."

Mr. Mason took special exception to comments Mr. Bowles made at the breakfast about having better constituents, and he wanted the commission to denounce them.

In response, Mr. Bowles said he wouldn't live in the community he does if he didn't believe it was the best and that it was not a slap at any other district. (But he did say at the breakfast that if a resident of his district had weeds growing in a ditch in front of his house, he would go out and cut them and take the trash out, while others think it's the government's responsibility.)

Mayor Deke Copenhaver intervened and asked for a motion to receive the discussion as information. Commissioner Joe Jackson complied, and the motion passed unanimously.

Afterward, Mr. Mason called the motion "unfortunate" because they missed an opportunity to make a statement that the commission will not go back to the "old bickering ways of the past."

No, but the camaraderie and communication of the past was a lot better than it is today. Maybe that's because the mayor stifles debate and won't let them hash things out in meetings.

"I'M RECUPERATING": Former civic center General Manager Larry Rogers is at Select Specialty Hospital recuperating from injuries he received in a July 4 fall at his home. He had gone into the attic to investigate a water leak when he fell through the flooring and into a utility room and broke nine ribs.

He was on a respirator and in a medically induced coma for more than a month at Doctors Hospital, where he underwent surgery to repair the damage.

When he began to regain consciousness and saw people signing the visitors book his wife, Rebecca , has in the room, he said he thought he was at Poteet's Funeral Home.

Well, at least this time he got to see them signing it.

SERENDIPITY: On my way to somewhere else last week, I stopped at Lofty Ideas, an antique and vintage furniture and collectibles shop on Eighth Street in downtown Augusta, to take a look around and came out with three cookbooks for $9. One of them is The Market Place, a collection of recipes published by the Augusta Junior Woman's Club in 1986.

The introduction by the late Ed Cashin is a short history of Augusta's markets. The cover and divider pages record scenes of disappearing markets in the city's neighborhoods, such as Frog Holler, Harrisburg, Hawks Gully and Nellyville by Augusta artist Randy R. Lambeth . A painting of the Eve Street Market is on the cover, and there are scenes of Johnson's Curb Market, Hildebrandt's, the Augusta Food Co-op, Blount's Grocery and others.

Inside, on the back of an envelope that reads "To Maggie and Richard" is a scrawled recipe for a shrimp dish that can be served over rice, toast or something I can't make out, but it could be vermicelli.

Another I bought that day was Potluck Recipes by the Unitarian Universalist Church of Augusta. I especially like it because it has seven corrections taped inside the front cover. One to broil Prince Charles' Favorite Lamb 30 minutes.

MORE COOKBOOKS: The last time I wrote about cookbooks, Sara Benson McKie , of North Augusta, sent me two she said were unusual in their provenance and included the identities of the contributors, which I especially like.

One was Cookin' With Maudie , a collection of recipes that appeared in the Cookin' With Maudie column in 1982-84 in the Sugarcreek Budget , the weekly newspaper that serves Amish-Mennonite communities everywhere.

The other was Waldensian Cookery , third edition, a "collection of fine old recipes" from members and descendants of the Waldenses, a French religious sect with a long history (1173-1848) of persecution, brutalities and suppression that continued until Charles Albert in 1848 "granted them freedom of conscience and worship."

In 1893, they arrived at what is now known as Valdese, N.C., and formed the Valdese Corp. After failing to make a living in agriculture, they turned to industry and thrived operating a succession of hosiery mills and the Waldensian Bakeries. On July 9, 1895, the local church united with the Presbyterian Church in the United States.

Both cookbooks had the name of Alice M. McElmurray written inside. I wrote Mrs. McKie, thanking her for the cookbooks and asked her who Alice McElmurray was.

She wrote back that Alice McKie McElmurray was her husband's paternal aunt who had collected many historical books, including cookbooks, before her death in 1995.

HIS NAME WAS SAMMY-GAYLE: Last week, I told you about our new baby bull that we just had to catch from the adjoining pasture. And this week I got a note from Richard Beals , of Edgefield, S.C., that said, "I am amazed that a professional thrower of the 'Bull' would anticipate a problem of catching one! Try coaxing with a bucket of sweet feed; it works every time."

Well, while I appreciate the appellation and the advice, it took a little more than sweet feed to catch the wild little starving Hereford. It took Sammy and Gayle McCorkle to get the job done. They're our neighbors in Thomson who have helped us through every project and crisis since we moved there. They're the kind of folks who drop whatever they're doing and come immediately when called, day or night.

Sammy has cattle himself and grew up on a dairy, so he knows how to think like a cow and moo like one, too. So while I was working at The Chronicle a week ago, Sammy stalked the skittish little bull through the woods and caught him, and Gayle cleaned out a stall for him.

All along it was touch-and-go because after his mama died, he had nothing but grass to eat and forgot how to nurse. But Gayle went to Tractor Supply and bought formula and a bottle, and Sammy set about trying to refresh the little fellow's bovine memory and his life. Twice a day, he worked to get the milk down him, and they both came to help every time we called.

Now, tell me, how many people do you know like that?

"THE PROGNOSIS IS NOT GOOD": Nevertheless, despite our best efforts, Sammy-Gayle grew weaker, and Friday morning when Ernie and I went down to feed him, he could barely raise his head. So we loaded him up in the back of the van and took him to McDuffie Animal Hospital, where David Reese and Dr. David Ruehle came out and gave us the bad news. They said they could give him some fluids and medicine, but they didn't think he would live. We said it was worth a try, and so they did. But he died a few hours later.