Cats + Christmas = ?

 So many bloggers have cats and share them with us! Here is my Christmas gift to you:

Wagpets.com

                                                                So, what you want?

.

Plug it in already!

Smile

I am an angel, really.

All these memes come from Wagpets. There are allll sorts of animals there, and we all will have some time over the next weeks.

Hopefully?

What Is Man that You Are Mindful of Him?

 

Source: David Flowers

When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers,

The moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained,

What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?

And the Son of Man, that Thou visit him?

For Thou has made him a little lower than the angels,

And hast crowned him with glory and honor.

Psalm 8: 3-5

Source

No matter how despicable Man appears or behaves, God still loves him. 

This is a repost from 2011.

The Time Had Come.

 

He had never spent much time with babies.

Now, he and his wife have 2 boys, age 2.5 and 1 years, and live 

in Chicago.

from our new balcony 

For twenty-seven years, our life in our old neighborhood was one of an almost solitary life.  Our neighbors had moved on, with new one replacing them, but there we stayed, strangers to others.

Twenty-seven years! That was the longest we have ever lived in one spot, and was clear at the twenty-eighth marker, it time for a change.

The move was long overdue, as boxes and unknown treasures of stuff lined the walls and rafters in our garage.  John’s library? Stacks of unread books were on the verge of cascading.

Close (2 min. drive) to our daughter's house.
 Clara, son-in-law Brian, and Lily
after Irish dancing competition

Twenty-seven years! 

Needing almost nothing of those dusty belongings was our surprising discovery.  Now, in our new house, in our 55+ community, we are finding ourselves involved in clubs and making friends.

Yes, it was definitely time.

The underlined words are from River.  She and several other bloggers have set up "Wednesday Words" for bloggers to use to liven up their writing.

 This is a re-post of a 2016 post.

The Feathers Say It All.

 

Did the Pilgrims really go hunting for wild turkey?  It makes sense that wild game would be on their dinner tables, all sorts. Why turkeys? 

Have you ever seen a wild turkey? Ever wonder why the toms hang out together?

Oh, boy, this is the day. You know the routine. Give it all you got.

Lookin' good. We got this.

 Hey, there is one hen!

                                Check this out, ladies. We got the feathers, if you got the time...

Note: These above photos were taken by an high school classmate, Russ Adams.

.

Hens hanging out

Turkeys are a lot easier to hunt than venison. Whether one likes it or not, wild game has to be culled to keep the herd healthy. Deer always raided our fields before harvest; they were a pest. Turkeys raided an empty field to eat kernels of corn left behind. Again, the flock has to be kept healthy. That's life in the wild.

Christmas is coming...

 

Pinterest

Pinterest

Just remember: every woman wants canning equipment. Or, maybe, something else?  

Pinterest

Go shopping early!  Some stores will run out of these gifts! Black Fridays are running all the time, whether it is Friday or not.

To Live Is to Have Meaning.

 

                                                                        Pinterest

When the town’s beloved, elderly, and feisty Lucy Powell died suddenly at age 95, all wondered how to peer into her belongings.  Miss Powell had no relatives yet alive and no family to inherit a lifetime of her history.  Her family was her community and friends.

Slowly, close friends began to assimilate bits of China, old books, quilts, and other items into their own homes.  That was when the diary was discovered. Who should take it?  Who should even open it?

A diary can paint a picture of unrequited love with hearts broken, hearts renewed, and love lost then found. Finding a worn diary, fringed from fingers turning pages over decades, awed all who gathered around.

Finally, Old Ms Alda Franklin stepped forward.  I will take it.  She and I shared so many memories… All agreed.

When Alda settled down into her rocker with a cup of tea, she opened the cover and began reading each page. She chuckled, cried, gasped, and sighed until she read the last page:

My life had meaning and gave me reason to exist.  Touching others, being kind and generous, loving those who are unloved: that is the essence of life.

To all who turn these pages: Go!  Make your life count!

Source

This is a re-post 2015, underlined bold words are from Wednesday Words, a site that offers word or photo prompts. Delores, we miss you.

WedWords: Reparations must be made

 

Regency rules

The sight of Marchioness Hermione of Brocton plunging through the mass of titled gentry would remain an indelible memory in her daughter’s mind. Her elegant grace and steely gaze ran interference for the daughter Gemma, brushing aside lesser baronesses and viscounts as she made straight for Clement, son of Duke of Leicester. 

She would slice him to pieces. 

“Clement!” she addressed him with a curtsey. It was a matter of form, and he responded, “Marchioness” with a deep bow.

Clement grew pale when Gemma emerged into view.  Curtsey, bow, smile.

“Clement,” the Marchioness addressed him.  “It has been said that your father has been and is now a magnanimous man.”  Hermine stepped in closely to the now shivering man.  “You have stolen two possessions of great value from the Marquess of Brocton. How do you propose to make reparations for each?”

Clement staggered with the knowledge that his father the Duke and Gemma’s father the Marquess were going to do some very bad and fully deserved things to him.

 Questions:  What had he done?  What two things had he stolen? 

 What reparations are expected?  What would you do?  Details, please. 

These italicized and underlined words were provided by Delores .  Each Wednesday,  Delores provided six daunting words for any who wishes to participate. 

This is a re-post from 2015, taken from the crypt, dusted and tweaked. 

Do not touch

 

comes in three colors

You are waiting in a Dr.'s consulting room, surrounded by posters of body parts. There are interesting brochures about diabetes, prostrate exams, and flu shots. Generic muted watercolor paintings hang somewhere. You have a cell phone to use with no restrictions.  Candy Crush is delightful. Time will pass.

Oh, but find yourself in a specialist's room. 

My last appointment with my neurologist showed me a huge difference.  Gray-ish walls in a barren room, with no visual stimulation at all, suffocation drops heavily.  No cell phone usage, either.  Too many electronic machines, absolutely important machines.  No clock, time will seize up. 

There is an implicit message: 

Do Not Touch. Interesting canisters, holding interesting stuff, cabinets are locked: Do not touch.

                     These are activities I have used:  

 Tap dancing: sit on that plastic chair and make your feet fly.  Fix a song in your head and have at it.  Tusk from the album, Tusk by Fleetwood Mac is a favorite. Be original. Go with  it.

Make sure to not touch any paper covered space on that rolling cart, staff gets ready pissy about that. Instead, roll that cart (which is holding a few instruments) around the room.  Slowly, of course, but you could make several passes in five minutes. Don't touch the paper.

That rolling stool?  That thing is fast, amazingly fast. It swivels rapidly, so you have to be careful with that one.  Be sure to lift your feet up, so you don’t get tangled up with the rollers. Don't touch any paper, even casually .

Pretend to use that grey and hard table to play an imaginary drum.  Avoid the paper.  This is good for arm muscles.  Be sure to drum with convincing force.

Search for studs in the wall.  Odd, but trying to hang pictures in plaster board often leaves a row of nail holes. Stud finding is an art. There is no danger of paper-touching.

I can’t think of anything else, as the doctor entered gray prison room when I was still checking for studs.  I had found one possible stud, but lacking a hammer and nail, this could not be confirmed.

                                                                 YouTube, about 2 minutes long

Good luck.

This is a re-post of 2016. Nothing changes. Dr. office is the same, right down to the prints on the wall, but those are fading into a blue as is often in cheap prints. My next appointment is next month.

Best Friends?

 

Just a heads up here, this post is long. I cut and pasted the quotes, so chop away as needed.

Why would a bunch of frogs hitch a ride on such a snake? Here is why:

"After a large storm flooded a dam in northwestern Australia Sunday, Paul Mock looked outside to see a bizarre animal alliance.

"The lake was so full it had filled the cane toad burrows around the bank and they were all sitting on top of the grass -- thousands of them," Paul Mock told Guardian Australia on Monday. Among the toads, there also happened to be an 11.5-foot (3.5-meter) resident python named Monty.

"He (Monty) was literally moving across the grass at full speed with the frogs hanging on," Mock said.

Mock's brother Andrew Mock tweeted a photo of the unusual sight Monday with the caption, "68mm just fell in the last hour at Kununurra. Flushed all the cane toads out of my brother's dam. Some of them took the easy way out -- hitching a ride on the back of a 3.5m python."

And why would a poisonous frog UBER the poisonous lesser black taratuala?

"Perhaps one of the strangest symbiotic relationships exists between the dotted humming frog and the Colombian lesser black tarantula, both of which live in South America. The Colombian lesser black tarantula could easily kill and eat the small dotted humming frog, but it chooses not to."

"Instead, the large spider allows the tiny frog to share the spider’s burrow. Both creatures engage in a mutually beneficial relationship in which the spider offers the frog protection from predators and the frog eats ants that may attack or consume the eggs of the tarantula." one of 10 bizarre relationships

coyotes and badgers

Why does this one happen?  

"Studies have shown that this unusual relationship is beneficial for both species. The coyote can chase down prey if it runs and the badger can dig after prey if it heads underground into its burrow systems underground into its burrow.  Best friends? 

All of this begs the question: Why does this happen?  I mean, symbiotic relationships are part of nature. Well, the reason is simple, it all comes down to food. 

Again, apologies for the length of this post.  If I were you, I would gather the salient information and move on. I read like this in college, did well.

The Great Snail Races

 

Psycho Snail

His folks had forced Sam Snail to attend the class on snail safety, where posters covered the room:

“An Informed Snail is a Safe Snail!”

“It’s not dandruff, you idiot!  It’s salt!” 

Salt is serious.

“A stupid snail becomes escargot!”

Mr. Goo, the oldest snail in the community, scanned the adolescent snails with his antennae.  “Listen up, you slimy slugs!”

The snails convulsed with laughter---the slug joke was an old one. Then all became quiet as the spectres of snails long gone before filled the room.

They whispered, “Grass is good.  Sidewalks are bad….” 

Then Mr. Goo shouted, “If you are ever besieged by a bunch of birds, then kiss your shells good-bye.”

Intervals of laughter and silence of doom broke up the rest of the day.  Finally, class was dismissed.

  

Mr. Goo watched them in silence, Poor dumb Molluscan Gastropods! Half of them won’t even make it home.

This is a repost from 2014. 

Delores provided participants of the "Wednesday Words" with a variety of six words with which to play:  write prose, short fiction, non-fiction, poetry...Each week there is always a challenge. She retired and passed the baton to other bloggers. She is missed.

Get down and Party!

 

Parties were social.

"Groups of family members, friends and neighbors would gather in someone’s home, often with teas and coffees or alcohol on hand, and enjoy a drink, a bite to eat and a few hours of conversation."

After the Depression and WW2, women were chomping to have more than they ever did in the decades before.  Clothes, hairstyles, house designs were are part of the big change.  Women were ready to enter the labor force.

Tupperware was created by Earl Tupper in 1946, and became a raging success. Women hosted parties, fixed impressive treats, and visited with neighbors. It was a way to socialize..."as a method of empowering women, and giving them a toehold in the postwar business world." Wikipedia

I did not join the Tupperware stampede until I was at home with my children in the  70s and 80s. Neighbor ladies came, ate treats, bought and ordered stuff. Then one of them would volunteer to host the next one. The hostess would get a special item for this, worth every penny.

Was this part of your life? Did you order stuff, and do you still have items in your cabinet? I do not. When we moved, they were tossed, since they were pretty battered and shredded. 

Men most likely did not have the Tupperware Experience. However, men are seeing Tupperware a potential market.

                     If Superman can throw a Tupperware party, then..

Good Times

You know, you too can host a party on Zoom!

It is not our fault.

 

                                                           America in the 1950s

Do not argue or mess with this lady. She will lecture you to death. Or grab you by the ear and haul you out to do laundry with a wringer washer.

Checking out at the store, the young cashier suggested to the much older lady that she should bring her own grocery bags, because plastic bags are not good for the environment,.

The woman apologized to the young girl and explained, "We didn't have this 'green thing' back in my earlier days."

The young clerk responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations."

The older lady said that she was right our generation didn't have the "green thing" in its day.

The older lady went on to explain: "Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled.

But we didn't have the "green thing" back in our day. Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags that we reused for numerous things. Most memorable besides household garbage bags was the use of brown paper bags as book covers for our school books. This was to ensure that public property (the books provided for our use by the school) was not defaced by our scribblings. Then we were able to personalize our books on the brown paper bags.

But, too bad we didn't do the "green thing" back then. We walked up stairs because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn't have the "green thing" in our day.

Back then we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throw away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts. Wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days.

Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that young lady is right; we didn't have the "green thing" back in our day.

Back then we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana.

In the kitchen we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us.

When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.

Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power.

We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she's right; we didn't have the "green thing" back then.

We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blade in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn't have the "green thing" back then.

Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service in the family's $45,000 SUV or van, which cost what a whole house did before the "green thing."

We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 23,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest burger joint.

But isn't it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the "green thing" back then?"

Please forward this on to another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smart ass young person. We don't like being old in the first place, so it doesn't take much to piss us off... Especially from a tattooed, multiple pierced smartass who can't make change without the cash register telling them how much. Karen Karli Webb America in the 1950s

The caption on the photo shows the originating post.

Amen.

Sorry about the length of this post. Didn't know what to edit out.