I apologize for the lateness of the hour, but it has been one of those mornings. The pine pollen has started. It covers my windshield and most of my car; consequently, I am wheezing and having trouble breathing. I guess, though, that too has a weird sort of upside. If I do anything requiring exertion, I have to stop to breathe. I figure I’ll just have to relax for most of the day except I do need to put bags in the trunk, but for that I’ll use my carriage, the one for hauling all my uke stuff. My nose is permanently clogged. I should probably carry a handkerchief in my back pocket the way my father did or stuffed up the cuff of my sleeve the way the nuns did.

Henry has a vet appointment for Tuesday to check the reason for his limp and to get the medication for his eye allergy.

We are back to needing sweatshirts. The high today will be 59° while the low will be 50°. The sky is mostly cloudy but a glint of sun is managing to break through.

When I was a kid, my dog was Duke, a boxer. He gave me a love for boxers which has never diminished. Henry is my first non-boxer, but the tradition continues with Nala. Duke was scrabby and stubborn. He was also protective and loving. Nobody would have dared mess with us if Duke was with us. The house down the street had a dog Duke hated. They went after each other when they could. The dog was bigger than Duke who was small, the runt of his litter. One fight was horrendous. Duke got the worst of it. His neck was torn. My mother wanted him taken to the vet. My father said Duke would take care of it, licking it and cleaning it. That was when my father was away working all week so while he was gone, my mother took Duke to the vet where he got medication against infection and his wound cleaned. He got small stitches below his neck. You could’t see them. When my father got home, he mentioned how great the wound looked, how well Duke had done. My mother said nothing.

When I was growing up, I believed most things I was told. My mother had her admonitions about blindness, balls of stomach gum, giant knuckles and death from drowning, and I never questioned her. The nuns too had their warnings about sin and hell so I stayed on the straight and narrow rather than risk the devil and eternal hellfire.

My weekend dance card is empty except for a dump run. I figure I’ll go on Sunday as sort of paying homage to my father.

Yesterday was hellishly warm for May, maybe even for August. The heat had me reconsidering my life. Was I virtuous enough to avoid hell? Could I escape eternal damnation? I certainly hope I am.

Last night it rained for only a short while, but it set the stage for today’s weather. It is 61° with light showers. Earlier, my usual quiet morning was jolted by the sound of a tree company parked next door felling some pine trees and chipping the downed branches and trees from that big storm a while back. The tree which had landed on my back fence is gone. I now have to brace the fence as it is leaning. I tried before, but the fence is heavy by itself let alone with a leaning pine tree. That chore is for another day.

My dance card has only chores on it including a dump run tomorrow. Today, I’m going to finish cleaning the dining room and try to start on my room which has boxes and clothes all over, the start of my switching winter for summer clothes. I figure it being the end of May that task needs to be completed.

My father was a lawn specialist in his own way. He used a hand mower his whole life. Every spring he had it sharpened. He cut his lawn in the same pattern most summer Saturdays. I loved the sound of that mower, the click click as he pushed it across the lawn. The grass flew out from the blade. He always raked with his bamboo rake, later his metal rake. Some teeth of that rake were bent but made no difference. I remember the cuffs of my father’s pants had grass in them from the flying blades of his mower.

The only ukulele players I remember are Arthur Godfrey, Big Brother Bob Emery and Tiny Tim. Bob Emery was the host of Big Brother, a show on TV in the 50’s when I was a kid. His theme song was The Grass Is Always Greener in the Other Fellow’s Yard which he accompanied with his uke. I sang along but didn’t really understand what the song was about. Toward the start of the show, we drank a milk toast to a picture of President Eisenhower while Hail to the Chief played in the background. I remember I saw him in person one July 4th during the yearly festivities in Wakefield, the town next to mine. He was in the middle of the bandstand surrounded by kids. I was one. He was wearing his usual sports coat and tie. I remember the coat always looked checkered on TV. I was right behind him. I remember a bug was on his neck.