Well, Look Who Wandered In!
Ayuh. So, you found yer way here. Can’t say I know how or why, but here ya are, starin’ at words from an old Mainer who’s seen more snowbanks than sunsets and trusts a quiet dog more than a loud man. Name’s Grumpy—not ‘cause I’m mad at the world or hollerin’ at clouds, but because I don’t sugarcoat nothin’. Life’s sweet enough for those who know where to look. And bitter enough for those who don’t.
Now don’t get me wrong, I ain’t tryin’ to be inspirational or any such foolishness. The world’s already full of folks tellin’ you how to live, what to eat, when to breathe, and where to stash your life savings. I got no use for that. What I do got is a lifetime of watchin’ folks fall into the same holes their granddaddies did—and a fine view from my porch where I sip lukewarm coffee and mutter about it all.
This here’s the first of what I’m told is gonna be “a regular column.” Never had much use for schedules, but I suppose I can spit out a few thoughts now and again if it keeps folks from settin’ their own sheds on fire tryin’ to learn the hard way.
So what’ll you find here? Maybe some advice, maybe a warning or two. Might be stories, might be recipes, might be just plain rantin’ about how kids these days can’t chop wood worth a damn. But it’ll all be honest. Plain talk, the way God and duct tape intended.
Stick around if you want. Or don’t. Ain’t no skin off my knuckles either way.
—Grumpy
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