Sunday, December 10, 2017

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 64

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.  Today's question involves an incident that occurred one night last week in Fort Walton Beach, Florida.

It seems an opossum broke into a liquor store.  What happened?

The possum stole a gift
basket and delivered it
to his woodland friends?

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

He ate rat poison and died?

Whoa.  And you 
call me dark.

Hostmaster:  incorrect.  Well, Cyndi's answer is, anyway.

Noticing the store's 
antiquated style of bookkeeping, 
the opposum updated their system.  

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

The opossum got drunk
on Rusty Nails?

Hostmaster:  close enough.  The opossum got into the store from the roof, climbed down some shelves, knocked over a bottle of bourbon.  The next morning an employee found the animal lying beside the empty bottle, glassy eyed and drooling.  The cops took the drunken opossum to the Emerald Coast Wildlife Refuge where she was dried out.

So the possum is OK?

Hostmaster:  yes.  After two days she recovered the effects of the booze-up, no charges were filed for the B&E.   She is now at large.

Is she pretty?  Maybe she could star in 
one of those obnoxious ads urging moderation.  

They ought to photograph her 
backside with the caption,
"A Cautionary Tail"

So ends another round.  
Read about Miss Opossum's wasted adventure here.

Round 64
Fluffy/Molly   32
Bryan/Cyndi    29

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

We'll See What We Can See

This year for our anniversary gift, The Handsome One and I got ourselves a nifty pair of binoculars. 

Now, instead of imagining what things in the distance look like, we can actually see what they look like.

Yes, we'll see the white of their tails and the whites of their eyes!

We got a simple pair of binoculars; point and shoot, so to speak.  The owners manual that came with the binoculars offered helpful advice (in two languages and with pictures).  For example:  don't drop the binoculars, don't look into the sun. 

Clearly, things are looking up.

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Happy Thanksgiving

Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!

-Psalm 133.1  

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Worries on the Line

Duck keepers are always concerned about duck safety.  Some things you can't control, some you can, some you hope for the best.

Ducks love to thrust their beaks into the dirt and hunt for bugs and worms.  I don't worry much about stale worms or even how the ducks are trashing the lawn.  I do worry about predators.  Fences keep the ducks from wandering into the tall grass or woods to be taken out by a fisher or fox.  Locking them in a sturdy house at night keeps the raccoons and other nocturnal riffraff from getting to them.

Sounds good.  But what about danger from above?  The house keeps owls away at night but what about diurnal birds of prey?

I've tried netting.  It's the stuff you use over blue berry bushes to keep the birds from eating all the berries.  Trouble is, the netting twisted and tore every time it had to be moved.  Then I read (I think in Grit magazine) something that an old chicken farmer has been using for years. He runs a few strands of fishing line from the bird house to the fence in a sort of  sliced pie configuration.  The theory is that raptors, with their keen eyesight, see the strands and avoid them.

Dipping into my tackle box, I rigged up a multi line gizmo and set it up. 

I worry though.  How do we know if it works?

Friday, November 10, 2017

Henry vs The Itch

Poor Henry.  It's not easy being a small dog in a big dog household. As if that wasn't enough of a load for his scrawny shoulders to bear, a few weeks ago, Henry got itchy.

 At first we thought it was seasonal allergies.  Alas, his symptoms did not abate when the crud in the air changed from ragweed to leaf mold.  Hoping to ease his tender skin, Henry was given organic non soap free range rosemary baths.  (The little weirdo is probably allergic to rosemary.)  This bath protocol had no effect.  Next we tried a soothing oatmeal bath.  All that effort gained us nothing more than a clean Pomeranian.

Half of a child's dose of generic benadryl seemed to help a little.

Then, dandruff appeared.

We got serious: coal tar shampoo.

There does seem to be a reduction in both the itching and the dandruff.

In other good news, there is a decidedly positive side effect of coal tar.  Henry has never smelled more manly.

Friday, November 3, 2017

How about a Side of Whooping Cough with That?

It was a brisk fall day.  Perfect for a trip to the tractor store, the bank and Menards.  Since we went rural, errands require a bit more travel.  The Handsome One was at large so he came along for the ride, promising to buy me lunch.

Every item on my to-do list checked off, we headed into town (till we went rural we never used expressions like go "into town") and stopped at one of our favorite restaurants.  It's a quaint place with dark paneled walls,  a well worn long metal foot rest bolted to the bar, a rough wood floor and behind the bar a large number of hooks holding mugs marked with numbers drawn on the bottom- for the regulars.

There were no other customers in the joint.  We sat a table and began to study the craft beer selections written on a chalk board attached to the wall.  I picked out an IPA, THO picked out a dark something or other.  We ordered some food and settled in for a relaxing lunch.

A couple with two small children appeared.  For some unfathomable reason, out of the some ten empty tables available, they chose the one right next to ours.  "How are you?" we heard the waitress ask them.  "We're having lunch in a bar," said the woman.  "That tells you what kind of day we're having."

The younger child was strapped into a high chair.  Periodically she would wave at me and squeal, "hi!"  My firm policy is that one "hi" is enough.  This didn't stop her from continuing to greet me.  The other child was a few years older.  He fingered an electronic gadget and declared repeatedly that he wanted "a big sandwich".

Both youngsters coughed frequently and at times, violently.  The adults ordered drinks containing vodka for them, apple juice for the children.  The woman told the waitress that the boy wasn't in school because he has strep throat.

It's hard to enjoy your meal when you are certain that there is bacteria laden spittle floating around.  Well.  The nachos were good.  Heavy on the jalapenos.  I hear jalapenos have anti bacterial qualities.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Happy Halloween

Crevecoeur chickens aren't really demonic, they just look it.  


Monday, October 23, 2017

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 63

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.   Halloween is coming up.  Pick a costume for another player.  I'll start.

Fluffy as Ann Coulter.

Fluffy's too fat.

Not too fat to observe that Cyndi clings
to the bizarre feminist notion 
that it is somehow empowering to make 
disparaging remarks about another
 women's appearance.

Speaking of make believe feminists.
Didn't Hillary just get some

Hostmaster:  First Prize for not knowing when to leave?

The Woman's Media Center gave her
a Wonderwoman Award
for steadfastness and bravery
in public service.

I think we've found Cyndi's costume!
She can dress as Hillary dressed as Wonder Woman.

Hostmaster:  OK.  Let's do another.

Bryan as Grumpy Cat.

Hostmaster:  good one.  

Hostmaster as Kim Jong-un

Hostmaster:  hmmm.  I see Bryan as an old style troubled loner killer. 

So, more Charles Whitman than
Omar Mateen. 

Hostmaster:  see?  You're a natural.

Hostmaster as Harvey Weinstein.

Hostmaster:  not bad.  I see Cyndi as an airhead actress with sudden recovered Harvey Weinstein memory syndrome.  Be sure to wear something sexy.  We'll stand close for pictures at the Halloween party!

Naturally, Hostmaster will go as Harvey 
before the intensive therapy.  

Like the therapy, this round is over.

Round 63
Fluffy/Molly  32
Bryan/Cyndi   28

I wanna go as a flying squirrel.

Friday, October 20, 2017

Breed Profile: Great Pyrenees

The Great Pyrenees (AKA Pyrenean Mountain Dog) was originally used as a flock guardian.  The breed has been around at least since 3000 B.C. when nomadic shepherds brought their sheep and dogs to the Pyrenees Mountains.  Today, many GP's still work as guardians.  Many are pets,  companions, therapy dogs.

Some Great Pyrenees Facts
 - lifespan 10-12 years
-  height:  25-32 inches at shoulder
-  weight:  85-115 pounds
-  double dewclaws on hind legs
-  double coat in white or white with some markings.  The undercoat is dense and wooly, the outer coat is coarse and straight
-  recognized by the American Kennel Club in 1933, a member of the Working Group

The Great Pyrenees is often described as majestic.  (Strangely, the Fright Wig is rarely mentioned.)
GP's are also described as calm, confident, alert, affectionate, strong willed, gentle with family and animals of the home, suspicious of strangers, fearless and serious.

 Great Pyrenees Manifesto

- yes, I do bark a lot.  It's because I take my guardian job seriously.

-  if you are looking for a dog who loves everything and everybody that wanders by, get a Golden Retriever

-  you needn't trouble yourself telling me what to do.  I have everything under control.  You're welcome. 

I don't always sit down on the job.  But when I do, it's in a comfortable chair.