Just another icicle
I went to heart doc for a checkup, and all was ok I suppose. He had to leave the office on an emergency before he got to me, but he has a lovely nurse-practitioner whom checked me. I don't have to go back until June.
I went across the street from there and got my shot, and everyone in that office had head colds, so I am probably infected.
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Seven-point-six percent of America's job force is unemployed, and a lot more are under-employed. Is it a depression yet?
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I see where some tv stations are going to drop their analog broadcasts on the 17th and go completely digital. I do not blame them one bit. This knee-jerk extension that Congress passed and Obama wanted is doing no one any good. All of my local channels have been broadcasting in digital for years, except for the PBS station. It costs the stations a lot of money to keep both type of signals going, plus the analog signal eats up a lot of bandwidth that could be used elsewhere. Like my blogging associate Mark said, the tv watchers whom are not ready for the change now won't be ready in June either.
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Even with my poor hearing, I heard something yesterday morning and this morning I had not heard in several months: a male Carolina wren calling. We have had at least one pair or another of the tiny birds sharing our porch and environs ever since we moved here. I have named them Renfro and Renfrina. When mating time comes, the male will build several nests in various places and the female will make a choice of which digs she likes best, if any. If she doesn't like them, he will keep building until she does take a hankering to one. The male actually dances in front of or near each nest to attract his mate to give it a look. They have built inside of Carolyn's work van, under the hood of her vans and the Escape, and in our barbecue grill. After family raising is over with for the season, they make their night home deep in one of Carolyn's Boston ferns which she hangs on the porch. I love springtime.
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I almost have my entry completed for this year's Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. I would dearly love to receive a dishonorable mention award from it, although I would not gripe if I finished 1st or 2nd. The WWW in the net address stands for Wretched Writers Welcome. Anyway, it is much fun to compose an entry, and even more fun to read the winners and dishonorable mentions. If you visit there, read some of the winners from past years; some of them are outrageous. Try your hand at creating an entry.
I went to heart doc for a checkup, and all was ok I suppose. He had to leave the office on an emergency before he got to me, but he has a lovely nurse-practitioner whom checked me. I don't have to go back until June.
I went across the street from there and got my shot, and everyone in that office had head colds, so I am probably infected.
----
Seven-point-six percent of America's job force is unemployed, and a lot more are under-employed. Is it a depression yet?
----
I see where some tv stations are going to drop their analog broadcasts on the 17th and go completely digital. I do not blame them one bit. This knee-jerk extension that Congress passed and Obama wanted is doing no one any good. All of my local channels have been broadcasting in digital for years, except for the PBS station. It costs the stations a lot of money to keep both type of signals going, plus the analog signal eats up a lot of bandwidth that could be used elsewhere. Like my blogging associate Mark said, the tv watchers whom are not ready for the change now won't be ready in June either.
----
Even with my poor hearing, I heard something yesterday morning and this morning I had not heard in several months: a male Carolina wren calling. We have had at least one pair or another of the tiny birds sharing our porch and environs ever since we moved here. I have named them Renfro and Renfrina. When mating time comes, the male will build several nests in various places and the female will make a choice of which digs she likes best, if any. If she doesn't like them, he will keep building until she does take a hankering to one. The male actually dances in front of or near each nest to attract his mate to give it a look. They have built inside of Carolyn's work van, under the hood of her vans and the Escape, and in our barbecue grill. After family raising is over with for the season, they make their night home deep in one of Carolyn's Boston ferns which she hangs on the porch. I love springtime.
----
I almost have my entry completed for this year's Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. I would dearly love to receive a dishonorable mention award from it, although I would not gripe if I finished 1st or 2nd. The WWW in the net address stands for Wretched Writers Welcome. Anyway, it is much fun to compose an entry, and even more fun to read the winners and dishonorable mentions. If you visit there, read some of the winners from past years; some of them are outrageous. Try your hand at creating an entry.
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