Bon

A time when we left after breakfast & never came home till almost dark. We were in the woods, playing or swimming in the creek, riding our bikes, fishing, hiking up the mt in back of us which was the Caledonia Pike, walking the rr tracks, building treehouses, or maybe all of that in a day. Sometimes the Huff kids & us went camping overnight. We were always doing stuff, & I was the only girl in the group of 5.

It looks well fed.

Our attic needs cleaned out bad!! Joe was supposed to help me with that last spring, but God had other plans for him. Someday it will get done.

She should pay for what they had to throw out, plus replacement meat, & all court costs. Should be around $71,000.

2 cases in Clarion Co. 1 in Warren Co. All since yesterday.

You can go outside for a walk.

Couldn’t find any of those either.

When did you do your taxes?

Oh my!! 4 identical girls!! Look out big brother, your life is going to change❗️ You will have your 💘 & hands full of love‼️

It was just after dark when the truck started down The hill that leads into Scranton Pennsylvania. Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Carrying thirty thousand pounds (hit it Big John) of bananas. He was a young driver, Just out on his second job. And he was carrying the next day's pasty fruits For everyone in that coal-scarred city Where children play without despair In backyard slag-piles and folks manage to eat each day Just about thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes, just about thirty thousand pounds (scream it again, John) . He passed a sign that he should have seen, Saying "shift to low gear, a fifty dollar fine my friend." He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breathed woman Who was waiting at the journey's end. He started down the two mile drop, The curving road that wound from the top of the hill. He was pushing on through the shortening miles that ran down to the depot. Just a few more miles to go, Then he'd go home and have her ease his long, cramped day away. And the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas. He was picking speed as the city spread its twinkling lights below him. But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts of the nights Delights went through him. His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down. But the pedal floored easy without a sound. He said "Christ!" It was funny how he had named the only man who could save him now. He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide, Riding on his fear-hunched back Was every one of those yellow green I'm telling you thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of bananas. He barely made the sweeping curve that led into the steepest grade. And he missed the thankful passing bus at ninety miles an hour. And he said "God, make it a dream!" As he rode his last ride down. And he said "God, make it a dream!" As he rode his last ride down. And he sideswiped nineteen neat parked cars, Clipped off thirteen telephone poles, Hit two houses, bruised eight trees, And Blue-Crossed seven people. It was then he lost his head, Not to mention an arm or two before he stopped. And he slid for four hundred yards Along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania. All those thirty thousand pounds of bananas. You know the man who told me about it on the bus, As it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania, He shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head, And he said (and this is exactly what he said) "Boy that sure must've been something. Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas. Of bananas. Just bananas. Thirty thousand pounds. Of Bananas. not no driver now. Just bananas!" From Greatest Stories Live: Ending number one Yes, we have no bananas, We have no bananas today (Spoken: And if that wasn't enough) Yes, we have no bananas, Bananas in Scranton, P A From Greatest Stories Live: Ending #2: A woman walks into her room where her child lies sleeping, And when she sees his eyes are closed, She sits there, silently weeping, And though she lives in Scranton, Pennsylvania She never ever eats ... Bananas Not one of thirty thousand pounds .... of bananas

This was based on a true story about an accident in Scranton, Pennsylvania where a driver lost control of a truck full of bananas he was delivering. He was killed in the crash, and bananas were strewn all over the place. Sandy Chapin, who was married to Harry from 1968 until he was killed in a car accident in 1981, doesn't like this song at all. She explains how it came about: "That song morphed. It had a life of its own. Originally it was a poem that Harry wrote, it was just words on a page. And early on he was doing different kinds of musical performances with his father, and also his brothers who were in college at the time. So there was a limited time for them to perform. But he did it as a spoken song. And then I guess after the Village Gate days, and the beginning of the contract with Electra, he was going through notebooks and looking for material. He decided to put music to it. And I think the song developed a life of its own from audience reaction. It was a serious poem to begin with on the society's preoccupation with numbers. You have your drivers license and your social security and your credit card, and on and on and on and on. You're just made up of numbers. But it also was a story – a true story that was told to him while he was on a Greyhound bus ride. It's real. The widow still lives in Scranton, Pennsylvania. The original poem started from a preoccupation with numbers, and then it got to be a kind of performance piece that was kind of tragicomedy. Very difficult, I thought." (Read more in our interview with Sandy Chapin.)

I can honestly say, I have never heard that song before. I will try to see if I can find the original song & listen to it, but...if I can’t ..... I kept thinking of the one TV show on in the 70’s BJ & the Bear.....I think, while the song was playing.

Tacos on chibata bread for my hubby. I just put the meat, cheese, & lettuce in a bowl, stirred it up & ate it. I couldn’t find any taco shells or soft shells when I was in DuBois last Thursday or the FD in Weedville on Saturday. You use what you have. 🤷‍♀️

Did ours this morning online. I wanted to put down Heinz 57.

No.....unless I have more words to the song.