"YOU'RE NO JOHNNY CASH!"

"You're no Johnny Cash!"

My 5' 10" tall, 185 pound hubby comes down the stairs and I can barely make him out due to the dark paneling on the stair well and...due to the fact that he's dressed all in black!

What on earth!  Black LONG-SLEEVED white buttoned up shirt, and black dress slacks and black shoes.

"You're not going to a funeral.  You're going to church!"

It juxtaposes this beautiful day.  The sun's coming from my left, the east, through the leafless magnolia tree slanting it's yellow rays across our green grass, brightening up the rustic boards of the deck, and, brightening up my world.

I've been sick -- high fever, headaches, runny nose, extreme tiredness -- and for the sun to shine and the temperature not to be so cold, this is great for my spirits.

For background I should tell you that dear hubby and his family have always had a bit of respect for Johnny.  Somewhere in their ancestry they're related.

I was educated, informed.  They drew a family tree.  I've since forgotten.  But a color photo in DH, darling hubby's, scrapbook is a gentle reminder.  His family and Johnny's family were all at a reunion together in Virginia in the late 60's.  So, they've always shared a kinship with this black dressed famous singer.

And, here he comes, my own dear hubby, dressed all in black.  Depressing.

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, "You're no Johnny Cash!"

He's quick witted, "You know what Johnny Cash is doing right now?"
I look at him with squinted eyes, knowing this is going to be a groaner.
"He's kicking at the lid!"

Groan.

He continues, "Thought you'd like that; an oldy but a goody."

Then, with a twinkle and quick wit he adds, "I'm breathing better than he is!"