"CLICHE'S"

These days, there are lots of discussions occurring regarding marbles....so with that in mind... I have invented a substitution for "That is how the cookie crumbles" to "That is just how the marbles roll". Now if you are a student of the game of marbles, you can understand how they could get lost so easily.

Back in the "olden days", grown men used to play marbles. My father was one of them. On Sundays, after Church, several guys would get together and play behind our grocery store. It was very competitive. My Dad dug the holes and they had to be so far apart, so deep, so round, etc. He had a special marble called a Taw. This shooting marble was a little larger than an ordinary marble. His was white with black specks. He treasured this Taw immensely.

My Dad was very sports minded. He played baseball (before his illness) and we loved to go to the games. My Mom was expecting my younger sister and she said, "If she is born on Sunday, it had better rain so I don't miss a ballgame". Sure enough, the little one was born on a Sunday and it rained. What a fiasco, the entire team decided to come to the hospital to share in this new arrival.

We were died in the wool Yankee fans so when the Yankees played in the finals for the world series one year, my Dad talked our school principal into giving excused absences to the kids that wanted to come to our house to see the game. One of my best friends could tell you the batting averages of all the players in the American League.

Maybe I will compose a song instead of "rambling rose" it will be about rambling marbles. Or again, maybe not. Thanks for the visit