Happy Birthday SLD - The Bicycle Thief - Sardines for Breakfast

It's always important to know the date.

Today is a very special day, Feb 7, 2020.

Sarah's 46th birthday. Wrote her a poem.

Hold on. I think this calls for a cuppa coffee.

Garcon?

Actually, I'm drinking that flavorless Harney and Sons Pumpkin Spice. Hold on. Lemme take anudder sip to be sure.

I suppose I could return it at Barnes and Noble.

Let's play a quick game.

Barnes and Noble. Masters and Johnson. Robin Hood and Maid Marion. Abelard and Heloise, Tristan and Isolde.

YOU provide the next pairing.

Pear tarte and Chardonnay.

...

So I paid maybe $40 to enter Adelaide.com's annual contest of the best writing they could find. One short story of mine appeared - Uncle Judge.

I just read some of the other stories, good but not great.

The book we read at yesterday's book group was - in one word - confusing!

I said I would never read anudder book Karen Joy Fowler wrote.



I awoke with the usual feeling, Where are Mommy and Daddy? Then I realized this is February. Have I missed Sarah's birthday.

I wrote her a poem.

Last night I stayed at Scott's to watch a classic film I checked out of the library: The Bicycle Thief.

I was awaiting a miracle at the end so the hero would get back his stolen bike. He never did.



The film was made by Vittorio deSica.

  deSica

Did I tell you I'm listening to the audio book SPARTA in the kitchen. Why, you may ask, is my rubbing alcohol and a cloth out?

To fix the skipping. Remember dat!  And who are you anyway?

For breakfast I'm eating sardines in olive oil and some crackers.

For the first time I noticed that TRISCUITS are too salty.

Am sure they have lo-salt or no-salt.

WATCHING THE BICYCLE THIEF AT SCOTT'S

Such poverty! Soon, though, the situation will improve.
Yes, our man bought a bicycle.
Now he would get a job.
He leant his bike against the wall
as he smoothed on posters of upcoming
movies - one with the sexy Rita Hayworth -
who was coming to town.

His young son steadied the ladder
That son with his serious man-like face
who watched as the bike was stolen

Sorrow after sorrow followed
until the man and boy entered
a cafe. Pizza, we'll have, said
the man, and wine, and they
ate and drank, ate and drank,

before they continued with their
stinking life.