I was in yesterday to the hospital for a scan. I had a nurse, a black fellow with a soft singsong voice. He said his name was Buba. Not Bubba but Buba, Bu-Ba. I try and engage these folks when possible so I said, “Where do Buda’s come from?” And he said, “Buba’s come from Gambia.” I don’t know where Gambia is exactly and neither do you but maybe we could look.
I know this all seems relatively unimportant but you never know when that will be useful. Ten years from now you will be doing your crossword puzzle or your jigsaw puzzle and this Buba thing will pop up just so innocently and you will be right on top of it. Everyone will be impressed.
Steve-O is here with long haired doggie partner Rasmus for a few days. And the weather is improving after a drizzly day yesterday. The corn is up. And of course the weeds are up. Yup, it is May.
Well, time to get the day moving. Picking up propane and working on weed control today. Thanks for being here.
Buba loves, Felipé.
Love the Buba story and I did look up The Gambia. When I lived in Budapest, I met a young woman from Croatia named Buba. I also knew a young Hungarian diplomat named Peter Guba, so of course I had to say to her, ‘You should meet my friend Peter because if you marry him, you’ll be Buba Guba!’ For some reason, I was the only one who thought it hilarious. Go figure.
Buba and alperfect loves to you and Your Rebecca,
Mary Margaret
MM ~ yea, I like the way Buba Guba rolls off the tongue. I would have laughed if I had been there! Felipé.x