Blog Central aka The Front Porch

Laurie at I Can Leave My Hat On (my blog mentor) asked her visitors to post their 'work stations.' You can see why my blog is called George's Front Porch.

Items of note (from left to right)

Antique trunk that my wife refinished. It contains family photos and momentoes and will eventually go to daughter #1. We have an antique tool box of similar size for my son and another trunk (still awaiting sandpaper) for daughter #2.

The radio on top of the trunk sat in my parents' garage for years. My dad would listen to it while he worked in the garage or on our car, and my friends and I would listen while we played. There's a distinct (and pleasant) memory of cigarette smoke, beer and motor oil associated with it. The radio originally belonged to my mom's Aunt Blanche (Domingue), who lived in Lake Charles.

A reflection of the flash because George doesn't know how to take pictures.

An antique sled that my wife loves. It's part of one of those winters that she's hoping we'll eventually have. MAJOR part of Christmas decorating around our house.

The book case also came from Aunt Blanche's. It's one of the pieces of furniture I salvaged after my parents' house burned.

Back two steps: that's my Austin Motorola Marathon coffee mug (with hot tea to help deal with the flu). I feel like a real runner when I use it.

Santa Claus, Moses and Me

When did my beard turn so gray!? I'm blessed with non-graying genes from parents who were still salt-and-pepper in their 80s, and my hair's still brown, but I've been shocked at the last few photos I've seen of myself and how gray my beard's become (I'm also blessed with two college students and a 10-year-old, which certainly accounts for at least a couple of shades).

I've been tempted to shave by that sexy Swedish girl in the '60s Noxema shaving cream commercials from way back:

"Take it off. Take it all off."

Then I remembered a very special prayer. I prepared myself for worship. I dragged my straw out of the closet, wrapped a bandana around my head, slipped into my boots, knelt before the Lone Star flag on my bedroom wall, and prayed to the one who knows:

I was lost in trouble and strife, I heard a voice and it changed my life
And now it's a brand new day, and I ain't afraid to say
You're not alone when you're down and out
And I think you know who I'm talking about
When I don't know how I'll get through
I ask myself:

WHAT WOULD WILLIE DO?

NOT A DAMN THING!