Sunday, August 21, 2016

Late to the Olympics

I've always felt a vague indifference to the Olympics.  Don't get me wrong, the admiration due to athletes for their dedication, perseverance and hard work cannot be denied.  Still, the whole parade thing and lighting the flame thing has always left me ho hum.

Till now.

Special thanks to the American Kennel Club.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

August Blahs

All the wild raspberries and wild blackberries have been picked.  The rewards for venturing out and sweating like a horse are different than they were a month ago.

August has always been my least favorite month.  As a kid, it was because school would be starting soon.  As an adult, it is because here in southern Michigan, August is the month most likely to offer conditions closely resembling an Amazon Rainforest. 

Still, there are some pleasant things about August.  Remove the bra, wring it out, step into the cool house and from the window, watch a doe and her twin fawns scrounging for apples.

Come to think of it, I haven't had that much moisture under my top since the peak of menopausal hot flashes.  Bah.  Let's return to some nice things about August.


Maybe the Lake Effect goes on vacation in August to rest up before snow time.

Snow is nice. 

Happy August everybody!


Thursday, August 4, 2016

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 49

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.  Today's question takes us to Cape Cod.  They are wrapping up their annual Yarmouth Summer Celebration.  Part of the fun includes 41 sand sculptures placed all around town.

One sculpture on display in front of a popular restaurant has spawned outrage.  The main complaint is that the sculpture is offensive.
What is this offensive sculpture?

Hostmaster:  incorrect.


Hostmaster:  incorrect.


Hostmaster:  incorrect.  OK.  It's not an offensive religious thing.


Benjamin Franklin?

Hostmaster:  incorrect. 
Ulyssies S Grant?

Hostmaster:  incorrect.
Plymouth Rock?

Hostmaster:  incorrect.  OK.  It has nothing to do with offensive American history.

A squirrel?
Hostmaster:  incorrect.


A sand dollar?

Hostmaster:  incorrect. 

A Black Lives Matter protester?

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

A police officer?

Hostmaster:  incorrect.  Must I give you a hint?!

Let's just go eat.

First, let's just go to the beach and
 build an offensive sand sculpture
 of Hostmaster.

I need a potty break.

Hostmaster:  sigh.  It was a buxom mermaid.  Her large breasts shocked some folks.

This is just another example of objectifying women.

Mermaids are mythical creatures, not women.

It makes sense that mermaids
have big boobs for buoyancy.

Where do mermaids go to the bathroom?

This round is over. 
Here's the story on Sandy the volumtuous mermaid.
Round 49
Fluffy/Molly  21
Bryan/Cyndi   19

Sunday, July 31, 2016

A Simple Man

My cousin, Bob died last week.  He was what is often described as a simple man.  Bob wasn't famous.  He didn't have a fancy job title.  He liked to fish and to ride his motorcycle.  He loved his dogs.  He raised his daughter in the same city where he grew up.


I grew up in that city too.  Aunt Jean's house was a five minute bike ride away.  Bob was several years older than me.  He had a way about him, sort of, hey, you may never need my help but I'm watching out for you.  Chivalrous.

As adults, we saw each other now and then.  Bob always seemed glad to see me, to talk to me.

Now living two hours away from that hometown, I made the drive for Bob's funeral.  His wife of  31 years, now a widow, stood at the side of Bob's casket.  I hugged her.  "Roseanne, I'm so sorry."  Words that don't seem adequate.  Many people said those same words.  There really isn't anything else to say.  Still, it matters to say them.

A scene from a movie keeps playing in my mind.  Students at the New York ballet academy are walking down a hallway following the first class of the semester.  One girl who performed badly in class, says, "I swear I'm better than that.  I'm just so nervous."  Another girl says, "don't sweat it.  First day doesn't count, OK?"  Another girl, a veteran of the academy says, "everything counts here."

There were lots of  people at Bob's funeral.  Many of them were weeping.  This simple man touched many lives.  

Everything counts here.

Who Shall Abide in God’s Sanctuary?

O Lord, who shall sojourn in thy tent?
    Who shall dwell on thy holy hill?
 He who walks blamelessly, and does what is right,
    and speaks truth from his heart;
 who does not slander with his tongue,
    and does no evil to his friend,
   nor takes up a reproach against his neighbor;
 in whose eyes a reprobate is despised,
    but who honors those who fear the Lord;
who swears to his own hurt and does not change;
 who does not put out his money at interest,
    and does not take a bribe against the innocent.
He who does these things shall never be moved.
- Psalm 15:1-5

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 48

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.  Today's question takes us to last night's GOP convention where Melania Trump made a speech.

She has been accused of plagiarizing a section of Michelle Obama's 2008 DNC speech.  Just what was said?

It's a disgrace.  She should apologize at once!
Hostmaster:  for saying what, exactly?

She said about the value of hard work
 and my word is my bond.
Just like Michelle.  Word for word.
I demand an apology from
everyone who uses clunky platitudes
like, "my word is my bond".

What's the big deal?
The value of hard work,
keeping  your word?  Aren't these
things we can actually agree on?
Do we really need to nitpick the wording?
Melania used Michelle's speech.
She stole it.  It's plagiarization!
Republicans are cheaters!
Can you plagiarize a platitude?
Good question.
  I'm not sure about platitudes
 but I'm pretty sure cliches' and
old chestnuts are in the
public domain.
She should admit she used
Michelle's words.
I don't know.
All First Lady speeches sound
the same to me. 

First Ladies should be
seen and not heard -and
rarely seen at all.

So ends another round.

   For those interested, you can see and hear the controversial speech snippets here.

Round 48
Fluffy/Molly 21
Bryan/Cyndi  19

Saturday, July 16, 2016

Then There Were Two

It began just over a year ago.

They grew.

Things were going swimmingly.  That is, till the year old boys' hormones kicked in.

Six drakes and two ducks makes for- if you'll forgive the phrase- violence and sloppy seconds.  The girls were abused, stressed out.  They stopped laying eggs. 

Not only that, the boys were fighting amongst themselves.  Thuggary.  Missing feathers.  Unpleasantness all around.

Sometimes homesteading gets gritty.  Five of the six drakes were dispatched. The best time to process a duck is when they first feather at about six months.  At that point, they have tender meat and nice juicy baby fat. 

Year old ducks are a bit leaner.  Still, quite tasty.

Which drake was spared the roasting pan, you ask?  The one that was most vigilant.  When the flock separated, he would stand in between the two groups and keep an eye on both at the same time.  Happy bonus.  He's the prettiest drake.

Then there were three,  Poofhead and the two girls: little white duck and little brown duck.

 Then, more trouble.  The remaining ducks got just a bit too free in their free ranging.  They wandered into the woods.  There are predators lurking there.  Poofhead failed in his vigilance.

Then there were two.  From now on, free range is only a memory.