Lazy Sundays

I stayed up way too late last night listening to Coast to Coast AM. I just lay in the bed, smoking cigarettes and listening to their discussions on “shadow people” and ghosts.

There is a graveyard way out a dirt road nearby that is reported to be haunted. It used to be a black, country church and was reportedly burned down by the Klu Klux Klan in the early nineteen hundreds. The myth is that if you go out to the graveyard at midnight you can see spirits. Many times in high school we would go out there to scare our girlfriends into holding us tight. We never did see any spirits, only the spooky darkness and stillness of a deserted graveyard way out in the woods well away from any habitation. Some of the tomb stones are so old that the names and dates have been weathered away. Those people and their remains have long been forgotten. It can often bring a feeling of melancholy over me if I ever ride out there to know the someday too my tomb stone will be weathered beyond recognition and I will be a long forgotten memory.

I finally got up around 10 AM and ate a quick breakfast of some strawberry yogurt. It was way past due date, but tasted fine. My food stores are running critically low. I only have four frozen chicken pot pies, a package of thick sliced bacon, and a package of sliced sharp cheddar cheese left to eat. To fill myself up last night, I ate a whole jar of zesty dill pickle spears; sodium overload for sure. I am too stubborn to ask my father for any help in obtaining more groceries. I am tired of having to go to him for everything. Oh well, I could stand to lose a few pounds these days anyway.

A light bulb went off into my head this morning on the search for more spare change. “Go look in your car,” I thought. In my little change container, I managed to scrape up enough change to buy my morning Gatorade and a loaf of bread. I will be eating cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches for the next few days it seems interspersed with the occasional doled out chicken pot pie. I did see Big S this morning, but was avoiding him. I am disgusted with him with about how he treated that little old lady yesterday. It overcame my urge to even garner a tale today to write about.

I am starting to trust Maggie more and more in letting her stay outside during the day. I know she gets tired of being cooped up in this house with nothing to do but sleep all the time. This morning she managed to find an uneaten corn on the cob and had the best time chewing on it for the longest time; where she found that I will never know. I don’t run the air conditioner during the day so I leave the back door open and she comes back inside when she needs a drink, some food or a rest. She likes to spend much of her time over at the neighbor’s house. They have a little mutt of a dog that is perpetually caged in a little 6” X 4” fence. It is the saddest sight to see and it brings me some peace to know that Maggie likes to go over there and give that poor little dog some social canine contact. That little dog barely has enough room to escape his own excrement. I have nicknamed the dog “scruffykins” due to his rough looks and unkempt appearance.