It was really blustery today. Dug and moved sod for an hour and a half before giving up. Drained the water line to the back garden.
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Brother Roger is celebrating his 71st birthday today. Congratulations Bassman!
I don't know about the rest of you, but this covid thing has made me more sentimental, sometimes even maudlin (the Rye helps).
Reflecting on Roger's celebration reminded me of the tribute song "My Brother, My Father, My Friend" that he wrote for me when I turned 70. Yes, I'm his brother - no choice in that matter. And I was his surrogate father from when he was 13 months old until our Mom remarried about seven years later. Friend? Well maybe 😏.
He invited me to join his fishing trips (I know how to fish - he knows how to catch). And talked me into getting out the accordion that had not been touched for 50 years. And invited me to join Fishguts. And I invited him to join the Trompers. Lots of enjoyable times with mutual good friends over the years.
Roger and I have only seen each other once over the past year, for about a 10 minute masked chat on the fall fishing trip. We were in separate cottages, me with David and his boys, Roger with the other members of Fishguts. No camp fires, no card games, no comingling. We followed the covid rules.
Miss you bro'. Enjoy your birthday celebration and have a great Christmas with Lynn.
Damn, I hate a wet face.
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Stay well. Be nice.
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