Horseshoe's blog: Labor Day; No-labor day; My Day mooching...

Howdy, Friends...

Here it is, Labor Day.   A day created back in the late 1800’s to honor and celebrate the laborers of the U.S.  ‘Twas a day created to acknowledge the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well being of our country.  What I recently enjoyed reading was the statement:

"All other holidays are in a more or less degree connected with conflicts and battles of man's prowess over man, of strife and discord for greed and power, of glories achieved by one nation over another. Labor Day...is devoted to no man, living or dead, to no sect, race, or nation."  (Samuel Gompers, founder and longtime president of the American Federation of Labor.)

I like that last sentence, “devoted to no man, sect, race, nation”.  And yes, I understand that in our modern day genderless writing we should change it to “devoted to no person...”. All in all though let's go with the flow and enjoy a holiday dedicated to each other no matter what we're called.

 “Labor Day”…

‘Tis a day to rest, not labor.  ‘Tis a day to honor laborers by encouraging them to not labor. 

‘Tis a day to acknowledge the fruits of their labors.  ‘Tis a day to celebrate all the above. ‘Tis a nice holiday, eh?

(And ‘tis a day to put the word ‘Tis on holiday and  I promise not to use it again, for a while anyway.)

As for me, on Labor Day I chose to mooch…

.........................................

Yep, Folks, I confess. I happily mooched today.

Ya see, my good friend Linda, my Daughter’s Godmother, has allowed me to use her land for a number of years to host my off-farm garden.  It’s 12 miles north of town, a nice country ride to get there and a wonderful change of pace from MoonDance Farm, my home quarters.  Yeh, it's still the usual diggin' in the dirt, tilling and weeding and baking in the sun on a hot day but the upside is the soil is of a different texture, the wind whistles a different song, and if your nose isn't smelling Angel's Breath in bloom then you can always go stick your nose near the giant flowers of the Magnolia grandiflora. And if your senses and your soul need an extreme change of pace you can also choose to enjoy her pond.

I was nearly finished with my weeding, harvesting, and general garden chores when I realized it’d been quite a while since I’ve taken time for myself. I made a decision to do something about that.  After all, it was Labor Day, a day to not labor.

Linda wasn't home but I made my move anyway.  From her garage I mooched two fishing poles, eventually using only one but life is all about choices so I left myself open to choosing.

Then I mooched 4 worms from the compost bin.  Next, lo and behold, I mooched a frosted bottle of Heinekin out of the fridge that looked very lonely.  (I couldn’t just leave it there, feeling cold-shouldered.)

Sitting at the edge of the pond telling *myself(s) tall tales and bonafide lies, at some point in time my mooched worm attracted a decent sized catfish.  What excitement!  But then I had to go find a bucket to put it in. 

I mooched a blue bucket from the garage.  It was full of various items but I left those behind, unmooched.

A while later, back down at the pond while sitting, resting, talking to myself(s) again, a keeper bluegill followed another one of the mooched worms onto the bank, eventually ending up in the mooched blue bucket.

And now, here I sit with two fish cleaned and marinating in seasoned water for tonights supper.  (I have no idea why I like to soak them like that; after all they've been “marinating” all their lives.)

So...from mooching fishing poles to mooching worms to mooching a beer, to mooching a blue bucket, to mooching two pond fish, I'm mooched out and all those in northern Orange County are safe from The Attack of the Moocher, for a while anyway.

Why take an hour off and fish?  Being tired, feeling old, and lookin' ugly sure encourages one to make a change. My body is sore, still recuperating from a  tractor accident earlier this year. My disposition needs a tune-up. Both (disposition and body) are hanging in there waiting for the coming of the fall season and its cooler weather and the glorious smell of wood smoke in the air.

I’m nearly 100% better now bodywise, no longer as sore as in weeks past, no longer walking doubled-over as if imitating a question mark. Some days, like today, I think it is to my benefit to relax my bones, especially when I find myself walking a bit slower, a bit crouched, eyes to the ground as if I’m looking for something I've dropped.  Days like these I feel much shorter than I really am, much smaller than I prefer, about half my size, a miniature form of my usual tall self.  That being said…
Dare I sign off as…,
Mini, the Moocher  (?)

Happy Day to All

I hope ya'll found some pleasantry time, too!

~ ~ ~ Caution: A glimpse into my mind.  Kinda scary in there, 'specially way in the back... ~ ~ ~

*”Myself(s)?  Yep, lemme explain.  I’m convinced there is more than one self inside me. I’m quite content with that, too.  Ya see, my "selfs" sure do entertain me from time to time. Heck, I’m one of those who are constantly talking to my selfs, or at least one of them.  (*grin)  I mutter, understanding each syllable.  I ask my selfs questions, always getting an answer. I sing to my selfs, usually out of tune but yet manage to convince my selfs I'm the best singer ever! I even tell my selfs jokes and then laugh at the punchline as if I’d never heard it before!  Go figger, eh?

I might be alone quite often but I’m seldom lonely, more’n likely cus I’m with myselfs.

I hope others discover their self(s). I also hope other countries have a Labor Day.  If not, pick one, your choice! After all, Labor Day, a day devoted to not just one person but to our selfs, eh?  ô¿ô   

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