there's feet walking the way I mean to go

Malvina Reynolds. revolutionary, singer/songwriter singing
No Hole in my Head as a guest of Pete Seeger.
She is truly a Rose and Trout kinda lady.

Malvina Reynolds: lyrics No Hole in My Head
Notes: words and music by Malvina Reynolds; copyright 1965 Schroder Music Company, renewed 1993.

Everybody thinks my head's full of nothin,
Wants to put his special stuff in,
Fill the space with candy wrappers,
Keep out sex and revolution,
But there's no hole in my head.
Too bad.

They call me a dupe of this and the other,
Call me a puppet on a string, they,
They don't know my head's full of me
And that I have my own special thing,
And there's no hole in my head.
Too bad.

I have lived since early childhood
Figuring out what's going on, I,
I know what hurts, I know what's easy,
When to stand and when to run,
And there's no hole in my head.
Too bad.

So please stop shouting in my ear, there's
Something I want to listen to, there's
A kind of birdsong up somewhere, there's
Feet walking the way I mean to go,
And there's no hole in my head.
Too bad.

Everybody thinks my head's full of nothin,
Wants to put his special stuff in,
Fill the space with candy wrappers,
Keep out sex and revolution,
But there's no hole in my head.
Too bad.

Christmas in July

Well, it's almost July 25. We aren't putting up a tree this year, but I thought I might send along a little bit of holiday spirit just the same. This was taken Thanksgiving Day 07 on Route 1A near Waldoboro. I can tell you, George and I nearly took our lives in our hands turning around on 1A on in that holiday traffic to take this picture. Tell us how you really feel about the holidays! It was worth the fear factor. Love, Lurlene oxoxoxo

As promised, a picture from Maine

This fella is awful big as you can see by the trees near his feet. He is downeast over by Corea or maybe Winter Harbor, I am not sure where we were. I love sardines. More photos to follow. This was found at the Corner of Route 1A and the Flamingo Hill Road for sure! Love, Lurlene

Tea and Tourists...

I was perched over to Kittie's for the afternoon reading my Harlequin and watching the rain, as it has poured 26 out of 30 days in June. I was trying to figure out where all the tourists were coming from and not the summer complaint but the real honest to goodness bed and breakfast stayin' tourists. The weather had scared off most folks. I was sitting at the table by the window sipping my tea, I like a good tea in the afternoon, coffee in the afternoon doesn't do much for me because then I stay up too late and I am cranky the next day. I don't like to be cranky especially on days I am going to have my grandkids. They make me tired enough by the end of the afternoon. Kitty makes a nice pot of tea. She will give it to you in a teapot too. You can sit and sip tea, read a book, or do the crossword. Now I heard that she was going to get that road runner for people to use their laptoppers but I don't know if she did or not. I am not sure how the bird from Bugs Bunny will help people get to their googler page but I don't understand that stuff anyway.

Lil Irvin says that I could bring my laptopper into the restaurant whenever I want , so I can work on my bloggerations but I think I like to sit at home on my porch or in front of my pellet stove. So, I have gotten off my topic, those tourists and tea, they do go together and you might not understand how but they do. I was sitting there watchin' those summer visitors come and go and walking up and down the street. Then when I least expected it, some woman dressed like she owned the whole state went skiddin' down the sidewalk. It was slick and that old cobblestone (been asking the former board of selectmen to replace that with some good concrete or tar for years) becomes just like ice when it is wet. She went ass over tea kettle, I swear she looked like one of them Olympic divers but without the grace. Her arms were flailing and her legs were straight up in the air for what seemed like minutes. She would have scored a 4.8 at the least but no more than a 6. And that's on a scale of 10 but I think they change it just to be weird on occasion. I have seen it on a scale of 7. I think.. but that might have been ice skating.. because a scale of 7 makes so much more sense than 10. I expected to see her land sprawled out on the cobblestone and thought I should get out my Lady Jitterbug phone and call the 9-1-1 but somehow with her legs in the air and arms a flailing... she managed to grab that new lamp post and keep herself from falling. It was a miraculous thing to see... and me there to witness it... She looked around to see if anyone had noticed and didn't spy anyone watching so she tugged down her shirt and dewrinkled herself... then caught me watching her out the window... she hurried herself off to one of those fancy German topless cars... with an out of state plate... slid in.. and drove off... she may not be back to town anytime soon... unless she is hopin' I ain't local... but I am here to tell you.. I am as local as they come.

Hugs to you all...

Rose

A note from Lurlene

Wellsa, that was one heck of a pod editing session, cutting out all the places we got to laughing was the worst part.. and we're all some lucky it's raining or I woulda been much less likely to get it done on a Saturday morning.

We've finally got the sad story of Mr. Fluffypants's accident with the candle posted up to the high tunes and on the website and as a bonus it includes another good bit of gossip from Rose that she heard down to Kitty's about the summer folks out on Bog Point Road.

I hope you all love listenin to the poddings as much as we love podding them out there to ya.

Love,

Lurlene

oxoxoxo

Let me tell you dahlin’… dogs aren’t man’s best friend. I came home to such a mess last night. That wine glass my sister Eleanor left on my highboy last night was smashed to bits. I tripped over the nice Kitchenaid spatula I picked up at Marden’s on that last trip… and there were some empty chewed up plastic bags on the floor. That damn dog.

I wouldn’t have been as mad if he hadn’t chewed up all my find ladies undergarments that I had purchased up to Sear’s on my last trip to Bangor. I do like those Fruit of the Loom ladies briefs and he had the nerve to make a meal of them. I had asked Crimson and Clover to change the laundry over but they didn’t bother to load my Maytag again with the unmentionables from the bathroom. So, there they were, like a Christmas buffet just sitting in the laundry basket, waitin’.

My son Charlie came by for his morning coffee and I had to explain to him that that damn dog had been up to no good again. He had taken the nice Kitchenaid spatula right out of the sink, broken the wine glass his aunt Eleanor had left in the dining room, eaten my favorite Fruit of the Looms, a loaf of Wonder bread, some Halls cough drops, a bag of Humpty Dumpty potato chips, and some Orvil Reddenbacher’s popcorn (unpopped). I hooked Baxter out back and let him think about what he had done. That damn dog.

He whined for about two hours and then gave up and slept under the stairs. I went out this morning and found out that he had crapped out most of the non-food items… and apparently had gotten into one of the grandkids box of Crayolas because his shit was like a rainbow. Most friggin’ bizarre thing I had ever seen.

If I didn’t know better I would swear that my cat Mr. Belvedere, encouraged his bad behavior. I got on to my laptopper and tried to find some dog training stuff but really it ain’t gonna do any good because Baxter is just turning 13 and he is about as smart as wallpaper and not vinyl wallpaper either. He is the crappy paper wallpaper that peels off if you don’t do it just right…not smart enough to stay on the wall, mother used to say.

Mother also used to say that pets served no purpose… no purpose at’all… she said that cuz father would feed the dog under the table at dinner time… usually just the bits he didn’t like which wasn’t much. He had an aversion to cucumbers… could sense one at the bottom of any green salad and wouldn’t eat the salad if he thought it was there.

So, I guess I have to make sure that my non-food articles are put away, no glass-wear left about for him to knock over, and no food… he likes food… That Damn Dog!

I hope you all have a great evenin' and don't have a Damn Dog.

Love you all...

Rose

Well, you just won't believe what happened at the Sons of Seamen Ladies Auxillary Bean Supper Committee meeting. Our next podderings will be downcasted by Friday, God willing. We been thinking about you all and hoping that you are fairing well in this summer of discontent. (meteorollogically speaking). We'd love to hear from you on this bloggering or on our facebook page. Our facebook fans are so cool. Rose and I love you dearly. oxoxoxo Lurlene

Greetings and salutations to all the faithful listeners of Rose and Trout,

My name is Debra Jean Pinkham, and I am writin’ today to set the record straight and introduce myself. I am not FROM away. I just live there.

As many of you may know, I am a cousin to Lurlene B. Trout. My mother, Gladys Tibbets, was married to Lurlene’s father’s half-brother, Arnold Pinkham. They lived over on Turkey Hill in the old Bagley place on the east side of Bernard for years.

I was born at the hospital over to Kiev and am one of them late in life babies. Mama was 49 years old when I was born, and Daddy was 60. I went to grammar school and high school with Lurlene’s brothers, Lloyd and Everett. Well, by the time I graduated high school, Lurlene had already gotten married and popped out a couple of babies, and Mama and Daddy were on Social Security. I promised to stay in Bernard and look after them until they passed – God rest their souls.

So I did.Well by then, I was forty years old and had met every eligible man in the county – and let me tell you, that’s some slim pickins - and my future wasn't lookin' all that bright. I had been workin’ over at Kitty’s Tarts from time to time waitin’ on customers, and I kept books at the cannin’ factory until it shut down.

But since I did get that Associates degree over to the community college in Bangor, after Mama and Daddy died, I thought it was high time I got a real job, since gettin’ married was about as likely as a seein’ a snowstorm in July. So I did. I got a job with one of them credit card companies over to Belfast, trackin’ down deadbeats over the phone. Turns out that I am damn good at trackin’ down deadbeats and convincin’ them to pay up because the next thing you know, the company was askin’ me to move outta state and help them set up a new skip tracin’ department down South.

So I did. That is how I came to be livin’ away. I been down here in Maryland goin’ on ten years now, and let me tell you it is some different than livin’ in Bernard. There’s more cars than there are people, and no one knows how to drive. Boys walk around town with their undershorts showin’, and some folks have so many tattoos they look like the Sunday comics. And, Jesus H. Christ on a busted crutch, who ever heard tell of putting tomatoes and corn in a clam chowder?

These people are some different. But I am gettin’ used to it. So used to it that my own people say I am from away. Just breaks my heart.

Like I told Lurlene, you can take the gal outta Maine, but you can’t take Maine outta the gal. Anyway, Rose and Lurlene asked me if I would be their foreign correspondent and send news from away up to Bernard for them to post on their website. I said I would, as long as Lurlene promises to bake me a pot of beans next time I come home and ceases and desists from tellin’ folks that I am from away.

Each week, unless I am workin’ a lot of overtime – and you know with the economy tankin’ the way it is the deadbeat count is risin’as regular as the tide so I am expectin’ to be workin’ my ass off – I will be sendin’ reports about what it’s like to be a Mainer livin’ away. I guess that’s it for now.

Until next time I remain, your devoted foreign correspondent,

Debra Jean Pinkham

Sons of Seamen Ladies Auxillary Meeting Ends in Tragedy

Dear Folks,

Last night at the Sons of Seamen Ladies' Auxillary Bean Supper committee meeting, which was held at my house, had an unexpected crisis and I was some upset. My cat, Mr Fluffy, bless his heart, caught his tail on fire on one of those Yankee Candles on the kitchen table and from there all hell broke loose. It was something awful. You can hear all about it on the next podcast this week.

I'd also like to introduce Debra Jean. My father's half brother married her mother, so she is my cousin, and she has been living Away for some time now but made it quite clear that she is not FROM Away, she is from HERE. She's going to be our foreign correspondent and good luck to her with all that reportage and bloggering about Away. I hear they are some goings on.

Love, Lurlene 0x0x0x0x

This is our first time Bloggering. I am some excited to be a real bloggah and am tickled pink to send this first premier bloggage out to you all from my laptopper here in the kitchen, right here over to home in Bernard, Maine. We'll be inviting some guest bloggerers and even some foreign correspondents from Away to join us. God bless them, it is some hard to be Away when you wish you was home.

Wellsah, aint it lovely, the sun has finally decided to come out here in Maine and we are ALL some happy to see daylight again, even tho we are all squintin something wicked!

I hope you all get out to enjoy this lovely summer day. One day like this is equal to four or five days of January. I heard tell it is going to rain again tomorrow, so make hay while the sun shines!
Love to all, Lurlene B. Trout oxoxoxo