Okay, so it's Friday and I don't feel inspired.
What kind of bird is this?
Friday, April 11, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Hooray!! Broadwater's Dead!!
The Federal Government's plan to plunk a huge LNG (liquified natural gas) terminal right in the middle of Long Island Sound (nine miles from our shores) has been nixed by our new governor Paterson!!
Big sigh of relief......
It seemed like a crazy idea, putting such a thing, surely a target for terrorists, right in the middle of prime recreational waters near New York City, but there are so many crazy ideas around these days that I was afraid it just might go through. This is good news indeed.
Score one for common sense.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
And The Winner Is .....
Correction, the winners are... (It's a tie!)
Cheryl ( for Meeow/Woof)
and
Kristen (for the double headed Q-tip caption)Congratulations, winners! Your prize will be delivered early Friday morning. Look toward the east and shade your eyes or wear sun glasses. We went to a great deal of trouble to arrange this and hope you will be pleased with this unimaginably splendid prize. Gardeners will love it.
Second prize... the panel of judges was unable to agree on a second prize winner. It has therefore decided there will be a six-way tie for second place. Congratulations all! And your prize? Yours will be visible in the night sky starting on Thursday. and it will actually grow on succeeding nights. No sunglasses necessary.
Our thanks go out to everyone who participated in the contest. (Bugsy survived, by the way.)
Monday, April 7, 2008
Who blew my cover?!
Rats!!
I thought I could hide out up in that big oak tree beside the Mill Pond and no one would bother me. I squeezed into a cormorant's nest, which is pretty declasse, let me tell you.
But now all these people keep gathering below and pointing their cameras up at me and I'm so flustered I can't even concentrate on laying my eggs. I wish they'd go away!
Humph!!
Humans are crazy!! No wonder the pink-footed goose left town.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
And that word was...
“OPPOSITE” Only 3 syllables… but so hard to understand!
Peppy (6) and Herbie (7) are standing beside the maple tree at the border between their two properties having a deep discussion, as children will. H (an exalted first grader) speaks of something as being “opposite”.
“Opposite? What’s that?’
“Opposite…you know, like when something is not like something else.”
“Huh?”
“Like my shoe is black and that flower is white…they’re opposite.”
“Huh?”
“Like…see that tree over there, okay, we are here…so we are opposite.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Well, y’know this tree, when you climb up to the top [I often did], I’m standing down here…that’s opposite. Get it?”
“No.”
“Well (patiently persisting), you know how an ice cube is, cold?”
“Yeah.”
“And the stove is hot?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, they’re opposite, see?”
“Our stove is white… is everything white opposite?”
“No, no, no! …Look, you stand over there, and I’ll stand right here. Go on.”
Little Peppy runs over to the spot indicated.
“Now … we are opposite. You get it?”
“No, I don’t feel hot.”
“Urrrr… okay (sigh), that car (pointing to Mountain Avenue) is going that way, and that other car is going the other way. They are going in the opposite direction.”
“Oh!……….oh! I get it!”
“Opposite, opposite, opposite,” chortles Herbie, his mouth popping like a little pop gun.
Ding-a-ding-a-ding, goes the dinner bell my mother is shaking out the back door.
Inside the kitchen, “Mommie, Mommie, Herbie taught me a new word!”
“Oh?” alarm in her voice barely concealed. “What word?
“Opposite!! I know what opposite means!!”
“Ah, that’s nice, dear.”
Peppy (6) and Herbie (7) are standing beside the maple tree at the border between their two properties having a deep discussion, as children will. H (an exalted first grader) speaks of something as being “opposite”.
“Opposite? What’s that?’
“Opposite…you know, like when something is not like something else.”
“Huh?”
“Like my shoe is black and that flower is white…they’re opposite.”
“Huh?”
“Like…see that tree over there, okay, we are here…so we are opposite.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Well, y’know this tree, when you climb up to the top [I often did], I’m standing down here…that’s opposite. Get it?”
“No.”
“Well (patiently persisting), you know how an ice cube is, cold?”
“Yeah.”
“And the stove is hot?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, they’re opposite, see?”
“Our stove is white… is everything white opposite?”
“No, no, no! …Look, you stand over there, and I’ll stand right here. Go on.”
Little Peppy runs over to the spot indicated.
“Now … we are opposite. You get it?”
“No, I don’t feel hot.”
“Urrrr… okay (sigh), that car (pointing to Mountain Avenue) is going that way, and that other car is going the other way. They are going in the opposite direction.”
“Oh!……….oh! I get it!”
“Opposite, opposite, opposite,” chortles Herbie, his mouth popping like a little pop gun.
Ding-a-ding-a-ding, goes the dinner bell my mother is shaking out the back door.
Inside the kitchen, “Mommie, Mommie, Herbie taught me a new word!”
“Oh?” alarm in her voice barely concealed. “What word?
“Opposite!! I know what opposite means!!”
“Ah, that’s nice, dear.”
Friday, April 4, 2008
Dr. King
It was 40 years ago today that Martin Luther King was assassinated. Gosh, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I got the news.
On April 4th I was six weeks away from finishing my 2-year course at Rutgers Library School in New Brunswick. That day I had taken an elderly gentleman from Free Acres with me to the campus so he could talk with the Special Collections Librarian about donating some papers he had (letter from FDR, etc.). I left him in the SC Dept. and went to my classes, saying I would be back at 4:00 to pick him up. Well, when I returned at that hour he wasn't there and someone informed me he had been taken to the hospital as he had collapsed. Great!
I drove to the hospital and sat in the Emergency waiting room. A young doctor came out and asked if I was Mrs. B. When I said no he sort of smirked (man 86, woman 27). I called the real Mrs. B and doctor talked with her, then said he couldn't release him, even though he had regained strength, because X-rays showed a darkening on one lung. Mrs. B said pooh, it had been there for a long time. Talk, talk, back and forth. Finally they said Mr. B could be released. I'd been in the waiting room for several hours by now. Suddenly, as we were getting ready to go, an ambulance driver walked in the door and said Martin Luther King had been shot. Shock, pure shock, horrible. Another assassination! Well, I carefully put Mr. B in my car and we drove home. He was okay. But all we could think about was the horrible event. My car didn't have a radio so we couldn't even listen for news. It was a long, unforgettable day. Forty years ago.
On April 4th I was six weeks away from finishing my 2-year course at Rutgers Library School in New Brunswick. That day I had taken an elderly gentleman from Free Acres with me to the campus so he could talk with the Special Collections Librarian about donating some papers he had (letter from FDR, etc.). I left him in the SC Dept. and went to my classes, saying I would be back at 4:00 to pick him up. Well, when I returned at that hour he wasn't there and someone informed me he had been taken to the hospital as he had collapsed. Great!
I drove to the hospital and sat in the Emergency waiting room. A young doctor came out and asked if I was Mrs. B. When I said no he sort of smirked (man 86, woman 27). I called the real Mrs. B and doctor talked with her, then said he couldn't release him, even though he had regained strength, because X-rays showed a darkening on one lung. Mrs. B said pooh, it had been there for a long time. Talk, talk, back and forth. Finally they said Mr. B could be released. I'd been in the waiting room for several hours by now. Suddenly, as we were getting ready to go, an ambulance driver walked in the door and said Martin Luther King had been shot. Shock, pure shock, horrible. Another assassination! Well, I carefully put Mr. B in my car and we drove home. He was okay. But all we could think about was the horrible event. My car didn't have a radio so we couldn't even listen for news. It was a long, unforgettable day. Forty years ago.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The Bugs/Yeti Encounter
The person who can supply the funniest/most ingenious caption for this [borrowed] image will win a prize of ... unimaginable splendor.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
