I do not think I could count the number of printer / spanner thingies hanging around the Landfill at the moment if I tried. Do you think I can find one that will actually talk to my MacBook Pro? Noooooo… The $99 special I got when I bought my laptop is dead in the water, sitting out on the bench by the front door waiting to get dumped off at the recycle. It lasted about six months. There is another printer / spanner type thing here that I seem to be able to send print jobs to but I can’t make it span. (Yes, I am misspelling “scanner” on purpose. What were you thinking?)

You guys lose. All four of you. I used to have five readers but now that The Commander is on the other side… (Unless she’s reading from there. Who knows? They must be busy over there tonight because I am home alone and no one has clinked ice cubes.) The GG rescued a beauteous photooo of the Old Cabin with a beeceeclette leaning up against it and a note from my great aunt Elizabeth on the backside. I do not know when the photoooo was taken but she died when I was in second grade.

I got to thinking about the Old Cabin today. I was paying for my grokkeries at my fave Plum Market today and I had some “fresh” ears of corn. The friendly young cashier remarked that she had no idea where the Plum was getting corn on the cob. “It’s from Florida,” I said. We’ve had an extremely unseasonably warm spring but it’ll be a while before there’s corn here in the Great Lake State.

I went on to say that it wouldn’t be as good as “Michigan” corn whereupon the young woman confided that she had grown up in Indiana and she would never choose “Michigan” corn over Indiana corn. I steadied myself and explained that what I had really meant by “Michigan” corn was corn grown *in* season by *local* farmers. Indiana? Michigan? Iowa? Florida? The last thing that I had been trying to do was compare states. Yeesh. Florida farmers can grow corn at this time of the year and I bet if you are *in* Florida and pick some up at a farm stand, it is really good. By the time it gets shipped up here to the Great Lake State, it is still pretty good but it isn’t quite as fresh any more. (I bought it anyway.)

As I was walking home, I thought about the times my grandaddy would arrive at the Old Cabin after work with a gallon or two of A&W root beer in big glass bottles and a bushel of fresh sweet corn that he obtained somewhere on the way out to the cabin. I loved corn on the cob as a kid and I think one reason is that we only got to eat it for a few weeks in the late summer. Back in those days I would usually eat two ears. We would dump the old dead cobs on my old coot’s plate. I’m not sure how that little “tradition” got started or why it was so darn funny…

Since I can’t scan that old old old photooo tonight, I will post [again] this “feeding time” photoooo of almost all my beach cuzzints. I know npJane loves this one. (She’s the very cute small one down at the end.) Maybe some others might not. I mean look at meeeee (second from left with glasses). What the heck was *I* thinking? I look like I’m ready to stick a fork into UKW… The Beautiful Jan is not present in the photo. Most likely she was off being the accomplished adult that the rest of us looked up to. Susie and Grinch are at the table but don’t show up in the photooo. That’s The Commander there serving the food. And that little centerpiece of hand-picked wildflowers? That would also be The Commander’s work.

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