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the pecan man

I don't have a freakin' clue who this guy is, but every year around this time he turns up on his hands and knees under the wild pecan trees seeking his fortune. Many of the trees that line our lane are a hundred years old or more. They overlap up top in such a way that you might think you were in the southern part of France or deep in the bayou. It's a helluva pretty sight to come home to every day.

I promised way back in July not to bitch about the cold when it got here and I won't because I can finally breathe normally again. I don't know what the hell it is around here that chokes me up in October but I'm glad it's almost gone. Probably ragweed and kudzu. Wonder if they have allergy shots for kudzu? The basil and oregano are snug in the kitchen, waiting to be flung on top of my latest culinary experiment.

Still mulling over the Halloween costume. I saw a couple the other night dressed as McCain and Palin and they were dead on. About the only part I've ever played with any sort of conviction was Janis Joplin when I was in high school, complete with velvet dress, granny glasses and a rousing rendition of Mercedes Benz.

"Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz a week on the beach...I'm counting on you Lord....please don't let me down."

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