Cashin’ in my chips on another amazingly furtive flicker of a day. Where did it go?

I spent a big chunk of it with Happy. She hung out with me while I waxed my pickup. I told her I was going to wax Tasha’s camper too, and she looked at me like I was stupid, but she didn’t say anything. Turns out TurtleWax doesn’t work too good on painted Fiberglass. Who knew? They oughta teach this stuff in school, ’cause I had a helluva time getting it off. Had to use detergent.

My Dad uses the term draggin’ up sometimes, when he’s ready to knock off for the day. He has a lot of projects for a retired guy. Right now, he’s got the backyard deck partly dismantled. Termites.

My uncle used the term to inform an employer in the oil fields of southeastern Alaska that he was finished with that job for good, and heading south. That was back in the early 1970s I think. I remember he sent me a letter from Juneau. He repeated it, “I’m draggin’ up,” to a helicopter pilot, who replied that he’d already made the last flight to town for the day, and my uncle would have to wait overnight. My uncle explained that the pilot could either take him to town or step down from the chopper and take his ass-whoopin there and then.

The pilot chose wisely. And hey, when you’re possibles are packed, they’re packed.