|A LARGE OCEAN-GOING SHIP HEADS FOR GODERICH'S HARBOR AS DOES A LAKE FREIGHTER COMING IN FROM THE RIGHT|
|EVER WONDER WHERE YOUR HAPPY HALLOWEEN PUMPKINS WENT?? WELL, HERE THEY ARE|
|GOING BY I MADE A MENTAL NOTE TO COME HOME THIS WAY AND CHECK THIS SPOT FOR A CORN SPILL...DID THAT HAPPEN? NOPE, FORGOT ALL ABOUT IT OF COURSE|
|AREA CORN DRYERS HAVE BEEN GOING FULL-TILT|
|I SPOTTED 5 VESSELS THIS MORNING INCLUDING THE ALGOMA CONVEYOR DOCKED AT THE SALT MINES NORTH PIER|
|SOME OF THE VESSELS WERE SO FAR OUT IN THE LAKE THEY APPEARED AS MERE MIRAGES|
|I BELIEVE THIS ONE TO BE A FISHING BOAT|
|AN FAR OFF INBOUND LAKE FREIGHTER|
|NO MIRAGE EFFECTS HERE AS THE SHIPKA HEADS FOR PORT|
|ABOUT TO PASS THE OUTER BREAKWALL|
|BOW TO BOW|
|THE TUGBOAT OCEAN A. SIMARD ON THE RIGHT GUIDES THE SHIPKA INTO THE INNER HARBOR TO DOCK AT THE GODERICH GRAIN TERMINAL|
|PHEEBS FAVORITE SPOT IN THE SUNROOM IN FRONT OF OUR FIREPLACE BESIDE MY RECLINER|
- I'm going to have to return the camouflage jacket I bought last week...I just can’t see myself wearing it!
- A man who smelled like a distillery flopped on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes, the disheveled guy turned to the priest and asked, "Say, father, what causes arthritis?"
"Mister, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol and a contempt for your fellow man." "Well I'll be." the drunk muttered, returning to his paper. The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long did you have arthritis?" "Oh, I don't have it father. I was just reading here that the Pope does."