by Earl J. Wilcox
(exact date of this entry not given)
Today Mommie & I were invited down to the Bush ranch in Texas for some of their style Bar b Q. Mommie don’t much care for the trip, but B. Bush insisted we come see their place since we have our own little spread out in California. Mommie & I flew out there in the big bird & we snuggled all the way to Texas. And so to bed. PS What fun.
(next entry at Bush ranch)
Here we are in Texas tonight. Mommie was right. This place is too hot for us to spend more than one night. Besides, that Georgie Bush boy is just running us ragged talking about baseball & acting like a horses petuttie. They say he’s in his 30s but he acts a lot less than that. Pretty wife of a few years, but not kids. The other Bush kids seem pretty normal, except for Jr. I do have trouble understanding most anything he says, so his mother finishes sentences for him, & his Daddy just winks and nods when younger George stutters and carries on about fishing and horses. I don’t think he knows much about either one, to be honest. And so to bed.
(next entry is day after return to DC)
Mommie and I had a fine time at the Bush ranch. Went out & rode their horses & shot at some jack rabbits. Mommie says she and B Bush talked about ice cream socials and raising unruly children. Don’t think I ever knew rabbits came in those sizes. Georgie Bush about run us down in a jeep by being a smart aleck when his dad & I were just standing out by the barn talking about Texas politics, I think it was. Can’t recall for sure, however. And so to bed.
Earl J. Wilcox founded The Robert Frost Review, which he edited for more than a decade. His poetry was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
