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The Shepherdsville Times: Let There Be Light

...I am always embarrassed when I have to call on someone else to perform routine maintenance tasks like that, but itís part of the price for living longer than I ever expected.

One good thing, we still have a plentiful supply of grandkids, who are proficient in most building, remodeling, and large and small gasoline motor repair.

Most of the younger ones are girls, but Iíve seen their work, and Iím impressed...

Jerry Selby calls in help to light up the new year.

Little by little, over the past few months, we have been slipping into darkness. In the house, I mean. Especially in the kitchen, where good light is needed to prevent accidents, and in the Cave, which is where these columns are born.

Better lighting might prevent accidents there, too.

The problem in each of these cases is me. With my aging carcass adding to my near-lifelong acrophobia, (unreasoning fear of heights), changing those fluorescent ceiling lights has become just about impossible for me.

Enter grandson Patrick. Home on Christmas break from IU.

Avie had the good sense to ask him if heíd like to come out and make a few bucks.

He has done many chores for us in the past, always at high speed and excellent results, with good nature a given, and interesting conversation a plus.

I am always embarrassed when I have to call on someone else to perform routine maintenance tasks like that, but itís part of the price for living longer than I ever expected.

One good thing, we still have a plentiful supply of grandkids, who are proficient in most building, remodeling, and large and small gasoline motor repair.

Most of the younger ones are girls, but Iíve seen their work, and Iím impressed.

Pretty chipper for an old dog

Old Sox, our small dog who is about as old in dog years as I am in human years, is a whole lot bouncier than I am. She is getting almost completely gray around the muzzle now, and the salt-and-pepper effect on her once-black coat goes clear back to her tail.

She and I just went out to get the paper. The wind is down now, and although itís still in the single digits, it is pleasant in the bright sun. She loves to run in the small snow drifts we have in abundance, and she bounces around with her ears flapping and her stub tail wagging enough to almost lift her off her feet. Those floor exercises she does every evening must be paying off. I tried to join her here a while back. But I barely made it to the floor in a controlled fall, and when I tried to get up I thought maybe Iíd be crawling over to the nearest phone to dial 911.

Guess Iíve left it too long.

Corned beef and cabbage

Thatís what everyone who knew about luck and charms and stuff ate on New Yearís Day. Everybody knew. We werenít Irish, and neither was Katzenberger, or the Dine family, If you asked my Mom sheíd say, ďThatís silly. Thatís just old Irishmenís talk. But it is good, and cheap, so why make anybody mad by saying itís a lot of hooey.Ē

Right, Mom. Sure, Mom. We hear you.

There were lots of people who had been poor country Irish and Polish, and Macedonian, and such in our neighborhood. Some of them still believed some of the old folk stuff.

I suppose now the more recent immigrants, from the West Indies, Africa, the Far East, and South and Central America have old sayings, and good luck charms, and such. But theyíd be different, of course. Nobody really believes in them. But hey, whatís the harm? Itís only once a year.



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