Red

 I am thinking about entering this photo in the

Megashot Flowers Contest ...
... your opinions are welcome ...

If I was an opinionated person--and you know I ain't--my opinion would be that to graduate from the twelfth grade of school, each student must take and pass a full-term course about the Robert Heinlein book Stranger in a Strange Land. Just my opinion.
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North Korea is shaking its non-existent saber again; non-existent for now, I think. The world is going to keep letting that piece of shit country float right up our noses and do some serious damage, especially to the United States. They's got to be some ugly children in that country; the big-wigs of government conscript all the pretty young women as concubines, and the average family is left being fairly plain looking. I have nothing against plain or homely, but I can see why their soldiers never smile. If South Korea would parade some half-naked beauties around the border, I bet there would be a mass-desertion from the People's Army of North Korea. The US should beam tv shows like Shimmy and Namaste Yoga into the country, overriding regular propaganda programming. Pussy and rice seem like good diplomacy to me.
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It feels good to feel good!
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Have a thoughtful Thursday!
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Y'all!
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Domestic doings

My neck is much improved and I feel almost human even though I still look like a hillbilly. It took a week of my pleading, but Carolyn finally hauled her potted vegetable plants to the porch where they can get sunlight most of the day. She was going to try to raise them in a mostly shaded area. All she has is a few cucumbers, tomato plants, and banana peppers. She has three varieties of tomatoes this year, including big boy, some kind of yellow, and something she called a black tomato. Interesting. I don't much care as long as I get some fried green 'maters.
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'Maters. I generally write tomato and potato, but I talk mater and tater. A cantaloupe is a mush-melon. Okra is okry. Corn on the cob is roast-nears (roasting ears). Peonies are pineys. Cranberry beans are Octobers. Peanuts are not goobers; at least in the hills they ain't.
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I am again trying to get caught up on my Flickr comments; I've missed a bunch of wonderful photos while I was sick. I don't have a lot of contacts on Megashot, and many of the ones I do have don't post regularly, so it is pretty easy to keep up there. Megashot becomes more awesome, and they had a bunch of new members come in over the past day.
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Yesterday's elections went as expected; the crooks won. Americans better be taking Palin's Ignorant Party more seriously.
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Twitter is offline again; happens about everyday at least once. My grandson and I swap witty quotes.
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Speaking of witty quotes: Have a wonderful Wednesday!
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Calm

Not much happening in Dullsville today. We are getting plenty of rain for a change, and life overall isn't too bad. Carolyn is playing with her flowers and insisting I make photos of them but I am about sick of my own flower shots for awhile; I get this way every spring. I can now turn my head, but bending my neck is still a problem. Just feeling better than I did Sunday is like walking away from death's door.
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The BP oil spill is still spreading, but just like Washington politics, the public doesn't really know what is going on. I think the C.E.O. of BP should don his Speedos and be sent down to personally plug the leak. Instead he will most likely get a multi-million dollar bonus. Is it very stupid of me to ask why gasoline prices are dramatically rising as the wholesale cost of oil declines? Is it stupid of me to ask why Americans are so gullible? We are wed to the status quo.
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The Megashot flowers contest will soon open to all members and they have some nice prizes for several winners. $300 is a second prize and a nice Nikon p&s camera is first prize. Even if you don't win, you should have fun playing the contest. Get at it!
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Enjoy what is left of the fabulous Tuesday!
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Thoughts

 Home ...

I feel better today; still some fluid and very sore neck; I can't turn my head to the left.
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Mark emailed me that one of the good guys of music has died; Ronnie James Dio passed away yesterday from stomach cancer. He was simply the best rock/metal singer ever. Dio wasn't a big man in stature, but he was a musical giant with a huge heart and an even larger voice. It is as if one of the last vestiges of my youth has slipped out the door into darkness ...
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Even on a very hazy day like we had Saturday, the view across the Appalachians still managed to cause me to want and need to go deeper and deeper into their mysterious offerings. Every hollow, every knob, every tree and every stream has a story and all I have to do is sit quietly for a few minutes in their presence and their tales will permeate my mind. The trees gossip among themselves while eons-old mossy boulders echo the songs of birds and the buzzing of myriad insects and the fussings of tiny critters. Small, silent seeps from the hills join and transform into laughing creeks as the sky darkens and rumbles threats of rain. Life is difficult but good good in those places, and to one of them I someday shall return so that I may forever be part of the singing birds and the whispering trees and the giggling brooks.
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Worsh day again ... have a good one!

Corel Paintshop Photo Pro X3--another day of use

An update on the Corel Paintshop Photo Pro X3 program Pan Tool lock up. The only tool that will still work while the Pan Tool is on the photo is the Crop Tool. Everything else seems to work fine except some third party scripts are acting a bit strange lately. I have found a work-around to get the onerous Hand of Death off my workspace; I can save the file under a different name and the Pan Hand will go away when I select another tool. This worked twice Thursday, but is no guarantee it will work every time. It is still frustrating to have duplicate files sticking around here and there. If this works as a permanent "solution", I will tell you about the new features included in version X3 and my thoughts on using some of them. But as I said before, I do not like the awkwardness of the new file browser and the time delays between it and the editor. The file browser does have useful features, but they do not make up for the lost speed and convenience of having it on the work area at all times.

 View from Blue Ridge Parkway

We left home yesterday too late in the morning for good shooting light. Someone told Carolyn there were still several abandoned country grocery stores on Highway 321 between Greeneville and Newport, so I was willing to do some scouting if not some shooting. We drove away just past eleven and stopped at a grocery store. While Carolyn was buying picnic supplies--baloney and pimento cheese--I hooked up the Tom-Tom GPS and set it for Newport via scenic route and it took us directly to 321 in Greeneville. I drove and drove and we were both looking for the old stores but didn't find a one until we were in Cosby which is not far from Newport. I turned around and decided to give it a try with the Pentax. I found a good parking place across the highway in the lot of a Dollar General Store. That was good fortune because I could not walk more than five paces from the car; I was hurting. I made three or four pics of the old store with its rusty Coca-Cola signs and as I started to get back in the car, the volunteer fire department on the hill behind the building came to life. I waited until the red fire truck started to pull onto the highway and got a pic of it along with the store. Nothing special but it was pretty well the highlight of the day. I drove on into Newport and they were having a Veterans Celebration Day at the small town courthouse. In that town, the traffic lights are hanging on one side of the street and it happened to be the side on which I wasn't. I merrily drove through one red-light and almost another before my brain candle lit and told me to be careful. After that bravado, I was ready to give Gatlinburg a try; no one with any sense goes to that tourist trap but everyone I know does and that included me on that day. Of course the traffic was bumper to bumper and the sidewalks and stores were packed with the ignorant and curious. Having gotten through town (I hadn't been there since 1970), we decided we were hungry; we had eaten nothing to so far. I said let's drive over the Smokies into Cherokee, North Carolina, so away we went. We found no picnic spots with tables and just as we got to the state line, I noticed I had forgotten to put gasoline in the tank of the Escape, and we were still hungry. I found a place well off the road to park, and Carolyn made sandwiches which we wolfed down fairly quickly. I spotted a crow walking along a sidewalk and got a pic of him. Why the crow was walking uphill on a sidewalk near the top of one of the highest mountains in the Eastern United States, I will never know; crows are strange people. I figured if bad became worse and we ran out of gas, I could use the hand brake and coast into Cherokee. Carolyn decided she needed to pee, so off the side of a bank she went and came back fussing; she peed on her pants waist. I don't even try to figure out stuff like that; men have their own problems. I had already used my can on the way up the Tennessee side, so I was good to go. We made it to the bottom of the mountain and saw an elk on the way down; my first ever. We didn't run out of gas but did fill up in town. We took off toward Asheville, NC and from there we would soon be home. We decided to go back part way on the Blue Ridge Parkway which is a scenic road skirting the tops of some old and tall mountains. At first scenic view pull-off, I tried to get some pics as my bride sliced a cantaloupe for our belated desert. We were immediately attacked by every gnat and tiny black fly this side of Myrtle Beach. All but the first shot I made at the spot had dark blurry spots all over it when I loaded them on the pc. Damn bugs! On the other side of the road I saw hundreds of trilliums just waiting to be shot, but the bugs won; we retreated to the car and left. By this time I was worn out and Carolyn wasn't in much better shape. At the next overlook we must have elevated ourselves above bugdom and I got a couple of unsatisfactory shots. Carolyn volunteered to drive for awhile, and I managed to get her to take a wrong turnoff in Asheville; she was fit to be tied. I blamed the GPS but she didn't buy it. Just before 7:00pm, she drove us into the driveway at home. We had been riding nearly constantly for eight hours. She went directly to bed, but I stayed up for awhile picking bugs out of my body crevices, finally coming to the conclusion I would have to shower to rid myself of the varmints. After that excursion, Carolyn has decided not to try to drive the 21 hour trip to Texas for our grandson's Air Force graduation. She has a short memory and will probably want to do so anyway.
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This is why they call them the Smoky Mountains

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Saturday's photo trip results

sattidy

I'm out making photos ... I hope ...

Floating

I had to take the day off; shot day and errands. My eyes and most other ailments are improving except I am still carrying a tanker load of fluid but it too will pass. Tomorrow I plan to ride between Greeneville and Newport on old US 321 and see if there are any interesting photo opportunities. I will probably take another fluid pill before I leave home and like most other hillbillies, I will pee in a can and toss the golden fluid out the window as I travel; should be interesting especially if I am driving.
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Have a great weekend, my friends.
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Sorrow

Our friend Jola's mom passed away Thursday morning at about 6:00 Łódź time. You are in our thoughts Jola. I hope you and the family can find some peace through the coming days.

Springish

Does my butt look a little wide in this shot?

Today looks to be a perfect spring day; hazy sunlight filtered by wispy, high altitude clouds, warm with thunderstorms possible, and bird songs filling the air. Much of my ailments of the past few days have withered away. My fingers are still stiff, swollen, and now sore, but that will ease within a few days. Life could be worse ...
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A friend of Carolyn's lost his job as president of a local bank back in December, and he recently went back into the job market where he was immediately hired by a Dallas, Texas bank. Good luck to him. I don't care how much the small banks around here scream bloody murder about being left out of the Wall Street Giveaway Feeding Frenzy, they were never hurting to begin with and are now hiring many new people at low paying jobs. Carolyn's janitor service pays employees better than do these high profile institutions.
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Barring lightning, tonight is the night; off to the creek and that belated spring bath. Just in time, too as I was actually considering taking another shower; the one I had a couple of weeks ago made me feel really good for a few days. I'll be at the third hole above the Peter Hole ... if you care to join me.
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Thursday is "plan for Saturday" day. Make some good ones; this is the last spring we will have this year.
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The photo was made a few years back in Elizabethton, Tenn.
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Corel Paintshop Photo Pro X3

Corel Paintshop Photo Pro X3 -- This is my third or fourth report on this Corel product. The original complaints I had about the product frequently freezing and crashing are still unaddressed by Corel. I have the latest (and only) maintenance update installed. I had both Version X2 and X3 loaded on the pc, but on separate Windows XP partitions. I became so fed up with trying to convince X3 to cooperate that I went back to X2 but lo and behold, it is now doing the same little dance that X3 does by suddenly placing the Pan Tool on the the photo I am working on and I cannot not get it to go away. This tells me there must be a common file(s) that Corel uses for both versions of the program and that X3 has somehow hijacked the file. Like a good boy, I uninstalled X2 and hoped that would cure the problem. No dice. I would not complain if it was a sometimes problem, but it happens several times everyday. At times, closing the program and restarting it will make the hand of evil disappear. Other times, a reboot is all that will temporarily fix it, and at other times, just leaving it alone for a time will temporarily get it going again. I've not been to the Corel user forums because I don't have the time or inclination to chase bugs for a large corporation like Corel. Now I am going to be forced to remove X3 and reinstall X2 again; it worked fine until X3 came aboard. The odds of it working fine again are not too good, because most software does not completely uninstall itself even if it says it has done so. It will sometimes leave stray files in the Windows System folder and it will sometimes leave them in the Common Files folder. They nearly always leave crap in the all important Windows Registry and fooling around in the registry for any reason can cause problems up to and including mandatory re-installation of the Windows OS. If I cannot get X2 to work, I will be going to the Gimp as my photo editor. One thing for sure, Windows XP has been around long enough that coders should be able to create stable products for it, yet I don't see Corel even acknowledging there is a problem. Corel is a Canadian company, but they are acting like an American outfit that doesn't care for anything but the bottom line.
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George and Lucy

I'm either getting well or dying: I slept in this morning but finally had to get up after waking from a dream in which George W. Bush owned a local McDonald's and I was working along side him in the kitchen; he was a fascinating fellow. I wonder if Lucy van Pelt is taking new patients?

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I'm getting behind on nearly everything again; but seeing as how I am in my wonderful Golden Years, it doesn't seem to matter so much.
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Ever get a song lodged in your head and cannot get rid of it? I've got Volbeat's The Garden's Tale stuck for three days now. Like their ancestor Vikings, Volbeat has invaded and conquered. Thanks so much, Mark!
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I now have 25 friends on Facebook, and I actually know who about half of them are. I will consider the rest as groupies.
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On Wednesdays, look deep inside yourself and find a forgotten piece of happiness which will carry you through until the week's end.
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Shakes

What a miserable night I had! Today isn't much better. I awoke about two a.m. with a heck of a thirst. I took a big swig of water and lay back down and began shivering uncontrollably; I was chilling. It went on for more than 30 min. and it stopped as quickly as it began, but I could tell from my breath hitting my arm that I was feverish. I looked for extra-strength Tylenol, but couldn't find any in my nightstand. It was surprising I couldn't locate the pills because my top drawer looks like a refugee from pharmacist's nightmare; I've got a little of everything. At six a.m. Carolyn awoke to use the bathroom and I asked her if we had Tylenol, whereupon she furnished me with two of them. My sinuses were clogged and I had a bitching headache. Thirty minutes after taking them, I was sweating big time, the fever was broken, and headache gone. Today I am carrying about a gallon of excess fluid which is making breathing difficult so I took a fluid pill and it is drawing some of it off. I still feel like crap, though. Growing old is an adventure. Very bad allergies to ice the cake.
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Yesterday was Bono's birthday. I know he perpetuates some good causes, but for some reason I have never liked him. It may be because uncle Roy once told me to never trust a man who wears dark glasses at night.
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Have a Happy Tuesday!
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My uncle Roy and my uncle Fred on the front porch of the house where I was born.

From Fred I got my love of and respect for Nature

From Roy I got my warped sense of humor and my philosophy

Photo and inscription by my mom

Photo made in 1969

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The window of the bedroom where I was born is farthest from the camera.

The near window was the living room.

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On the background ridge is where I spent many summer and autumn days of my boyhood.

The rock I am writing about in my Are you a god? story was located there.

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TSR

I had a pretty good day on Sunday; I was even able to snooze on the porch for awhile, but today the eye allergies are back full force in my left eye. Until I can see better, I am going into TSR mode; terminate but stay resident.
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Mark turned me on to an excellent band from Denmark named Volbeat. Although I generally do not like music videos, the one with this--The Garden's Tale--works very well:

Maybe I am an old romantic, but the song and video nearly brought a tear to my eye.

If you like the Man in Black, you will probably like this one called Sad Man's Tongue that Mark has featured on his blog.
Their music seems to be a mix of ballad, hard rock, punk, metal, rock-a-billy, and a few other genres. For me, it works when little else does these days. You shouldn't have to crank up the volume as much as I do, but they are good when played loud.
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Have a great worsh day and I will be back whenever.
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Happy Mother's Day

Always ...

Hot wax

 Plums

Allergies are a 7 today; RA is a 6: That is a total of 13 and we know how lucky that is. Other than constant feeling of tiredness and sore neck, RA isn't too bad today. I am using a hot paraffin bath two times a day for my hands, and it helps quite a bit. I may have to go to three per day.
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Obama is touting the health care law as already helping millions; tell that to Carolyn who has again been turned down for health insurance but makes just barely enough money to keep her from getting public assistance. Shit!
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A photographic tip: When shooting at high ISO settings with your digital camera, try shooting with a less than best setting for mega-pixels. If you normally shoot at say, 12mp, try shooting at the next lower setting which may be a 10mp or 8mp. The ISO will remain the same but lower mp's should alleviate some normal sensor noise. Unless you are making barn-size prints or doing some deep cropping, there is not much reason to shoot at highest mp's anyway.
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My how time flies; it is already mid-spring. If I was a school boy again, I would be counting the minutes until classes were abandoned for a summer of discovery in the fields and woods around Headtown. Headtown is the name of the little community where I lived for many years. Not one critter or plant which I saw could avoid my careful scrutiny. I love airplanes (as long as I am not required to use one for its intended purpose), but I would get so mad when one would growl overhead and break my spell of concentration as I was being a nature boy. Pollen wasn't a problem then, but I did have some RA. Sometimes I would cross paths with my uncle Fred; he enjoyed nature as much as did I and sometimes we would walk together, but usually we both preferred being alone. Uncle Fred could teach me more about natural life in just a few hours than I could ever learn from a book. On top of that, he hardly ever said a word when we were out; hand gestures along with eye and head movements told me what he wanted me to see or hear or smell, and then it was be still and observe until I learned what he already knew. If there is any gentleness in my soul, it came from him and his mom, my grandmother.
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Thanks everyone for your concern and encouragement about my allergies and RA; they probably aren't as bad as this old drama queen makes them sound.
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Have a sexy Saturday!
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Shot

 Pollen

Got my shot after missing a week, and I am feeling the effects of missing one. My joints have been sore for a couple of days and they are now beginning to swell. My fingers feel like sausages, the kind that are about four inches long which they serve at family picnics after they've been grilled and plump up and you can eat them with your fingers or put them on a bun with favorite condiments like mustard or kraut and then drink a lot of beer with your uncle Roy; that's how my fingers feel. It will be about a week before I enjoy the first effects of today's fix, and about another week for me to get back to where I was. Until then, my presence on this wonderful blog and elsewhere will be limited. Allergies are running strong, still.
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Have a wacky weekend!
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Everything is an allergy cause

Yesterday was spent mostly sniffling with allergies and staying at the computer. Megashot is trying to get the contests section ready and I placed a lot of my photos into the wrong category but I won't feel too badly if people think my sandwich photo is an exotic flower. I also uploaded a new banner for my profile using a photo some of our azalea blooms.
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Today the sneezing, sore eyes, and clogged sinuses are worse, but I saw a photo opportunity across the street and hobbled over for a try. After I finally got there, I found some irises and a couple more targets. I got a few decent shots in the front of the house, but I was winded and had to return home. I want to take a look in the back yard sometime, too. The house was built about the same time as ours, but is a little larger overall. It has four bedrooms and three bathrooms and has extensive remodeling done. It was where the college girls lived, but is now empty and for sale at $139,000 or for rent at $1,000 per month.
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My eyes are quickly becoming worse, so I will quit trying to write on this bright background.
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Have a thoughtful Thursday!
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Tee'd and tied

Happy 192nd Birthday, Karl Marx! You told us what runaway capitalism is good for but hell no, we didn't believe you!
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The first 'Cannonball Run' began on this day in 1914. Most people think it was a movie(s) starring Burt Reynolds but it was originally a coast-to-coast motorcycle race against time.
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Looking back at the 60's and 70's rebellious days of American youth brings to mind something I hadn't much considered. Those kids claimed to be anti-establishment and demanded individualism, but by doing so they poured themselves into a mold. They not only thought the same and followed the same "party" line, they pretty well talked the same with the same lingo and dialect, they used and abused the same drugs, they mostly dressed the same, they listened to the same music, and when they danced, they all looked like a flock of airplanes flying in whimsical holding patterns over a 'seen only by them' airfield. They were a parody of and in many ways very similar to the mainstream American establishment. Every large town had a group or commune of them all being alike everywhere they were. The psychedelic colors of the late 60's turned into the tie-dyed t-shirts of the 70's. I actually liked the t-shirts, but they became so ubiquitous and established that I never bought one; I had my own sense of rebellion. The reality of the glorious 60's was not all the legendary picture seen, "remembered", and disseminated by those whom lived in the period. It was a time of great change, but it only brought on a new era of old fashioned conformity. $$$
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Wow, man! Have a wild Wednesday man!
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Blue Tuesday

 For all the little birds in the world

Some critter came as a thief in the night and took the baby wrens Tammy was caring for from the nest. I know the confusion and despair she is feeling; I have seen this happen many times since I was a young boy and it is never any easier to understand. I can only hope it was a wild critter doing what its nature says it must do and not someone's roaming pet that did the deed. Mom and pop wren will soon begin another nest in another site and Nature will go on being a tough mom; it is how it must be. Friend Tammy will soon get on with her life just as will the birds and all other living things, but unlike the critters, she will have wonderful memories of the blessings Mom Nature allowed her to be a part of. You are a good mom, Tammy.
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I will try to write a bit more later on ... today is blood work day for me so I can continue getting my weekly fixes.
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Heavy weight

 Best when eaten with a bit of salt

The top-most photo that I posted here yesterday and on Megashot made one of my friends "angry". Here is a quote concerning the dark garage: " ... it is a very heavy weight that throws off the composition in terms of weighted objects." Even though I titled the shot "Neat lawn" because of the irony the photo presents of a run down farm yet the lawn has been freshly mowed, he found exception enough to insinuate and say it is a poor photo. As you can read from his quote, he is a stickler for "by the book" shooting and he shoots his photos in such a manner. I've passed this old place many, many times since it was abandoned and I never stopped to shoot the house or anything around it. It is an interesting place, and as I stated yesterday, it has some personal memories for me. Maybe those thoughts of olden days is what kept me from shooting it. Anyway, I could not by-pass the irony of this scene. As for the technical aspects of photography, I have very little use for them in my shooting; others may do as they wish but they sure as hell better not call themselves artists because they have become wed to a concept and cannot see. Artists break rules; artists make rules. However, he is correct in the one assertion about the garage stealing focus from the house, but it is not as terrible as he carries on about. The fact remains that I do not walk around very well—particularly on uneven ground—so I was limited as to how and from where I made the photos. Another thing, on the front of the "heavy weight" hangs a sign even heavier in meaning for my part of the world. Even though it is loosely dangling upside-down, it still says "No Trespassing" and I'm sure the person who placed it meant for it to be heeded. I was in the driveway, but stayed on county right-of-way as much as possible. Actually, the garage is dead nuts, downtown, and whoa nelly on a "rule of thirds" intersection. Smack dab is what I'm talking about. The house happens to be at another intersecting "rule of thirds" point. My friend's trained technical eye led him to look for the "correct" aspects instead of taking time to read the title of the photo and to see what I was trying to represent. Also, he did not take time to see just how well framed the house is. He did not see the dark garage and old apple tree as a frame for the house. Ditto with the dark grass below the house and the tree behind it. He did not see the the blooms on the bush complimenting the white areas on the house. He did not see the leading line from the roof of the shed on the left going across the garage roof and pointing directly to the house. All this sets the house apart from the remaining elements, and on top of that, it is the largest object pictured. How anyone sees the overall photo is of little concern; I did it the best I could with what I had to do with; my butt leaning against a Ford Escape, my allergy-ridden eyes, and a Pentax camera. I used my limited knowledge and experience to make the best photo possible and I am more than pleased with the result. Screw the rules.
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Have a wonderful worsh day!
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 "... it is a very heavy weight that throws off the composition in terms of weighted objects." May aching ass!

Cuzzn-Dread

 Sign over doors:

Protected By

Southern Agriculturists

Theft Reward

Service

Didn't accomplish a lot yesterday. We drove to Fall Branch to clean the building, then decided to go back to the Nolichucky river to see if any of the produce stands were open, but none were. It is a bit early for local veggies. On the way to Fall Branch I spotted a dandy field of buttercups glowing in the afternoon sunshine, and there were some horses grazing between the flowers. I made a couple of pics from a nearby church yard. I also stopped at an old and abandoned farm house that I had been wanting to shoot. It has a tiny bit of personal history for me as I once ate dinner (lunch) in the house. It was the summer of 1964 and I was helping a farmer work his tobacco patch (crop). His mother lived alone in the big house and prepared a meal of country cooking for us. It is another sad reminder of our past and a look at our probable future.
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This link can take you to my grandson's music. The entire album—Never Touching Gravity—is there and sounds pretty good to an old grandpa's weak ears. I know he misses his Tennessee home, but the move to Atlanta was a good one for him, giving him much better opportunities to do something like this. Congratulations to the band, Cuzzn-Dread, and Jeremy whom is not only my grandson but also my friend. Cuzzn-Dread is Jeremy.
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A car trip to San Antonio, Texas for Keegan's graduation from Air Force basic training is being considered by some of us; it is a daunting 20 hour drive. The journey will take us through the big towns Knoxville, Nashville, Memphis, Little Rock, and Dallas before pulling into San Antonio. We have a few more weeks to decide if we will attempt the trip and to form a plan of action.
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Have a happy Sunday!
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Fiddlin'

Another weekend. Being retired, I wouldn't know it if not for you working people suddenly becoming so upbeat.
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I didn't get much chance to post yesterday, and I really didn't have much to say, nohow. My grandson Jeremy and I are are tweeting at each other; he has sent his demo tape out and I wish him much success. He does his style of music very well and seems to be a good song writer. I got word that my other grandson who joined the Air Force is very homesick. He has called his mom and maternal grandparents, but has yet to contact his dad or us.
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I didn't get my shot this week; first I've missed in a long time. I am hopeful I can get one next week. Life can be interesting.
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I went to the cemetery for a few minutes yesterday, but oak pollen quickly sent my scurrying for home. This morning I can barely see so I popped a Claritin®. I think I've heard more people complaining about allergies this spring than ever before, both old folk and young. My opinion: We are chemicalizing ourselves way faster than we can evolve to cope with the effects of our easy-living indiscretions. I believe I hear the fiddler concluding his solo.
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I've made a bit of peace with Facebook; I basically stay away from it. I do my tweeting from a Firefox extension, so I rarely have to go to the main site. I am having fun posting to my new blog.
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What happened to dogwood blooms this year? Most of those in the area did not blossom, and a majority of those that did have only a few flowers with smallish petals that fell off after just a few days. Could they be resting for a season? I've never known of that from dogwoods. Could it be our careless care-taking of Mom Nature is catching up with us? When Mother's Day comes Sunday next, be sure to tell your mom you love her even if she is no longer living. Show our universal mom you care for her, too. Pick up some trash from the roadside or do some other kind deed for her; caring now may extend her lifetime ... and ours.
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Megashot is rolling along very well; they now have more than 300 members. Another of my contacts from Flickr joined this week, and he is very impressed with the looks and feel of the site. Cyrus and Maggie are both doing the things necessary to make newcomers feel comfortable with their first Megashot experiences. Maggie is greeting folk as they join and explaining some of the basics of getting around the huge site, and Cyrus is cranking out great video tutorials. My hat is off to both of them.
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Have a super weekend!
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The Smoking Gun's Mugshots of the Week!
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RC

Running (hobbling) errands ... back later ...

Smell from hell

 Bumble Bee Butt

What is it with all these smell-well products that people are bringing into their homes? Uesd to be when you visited a friend's home, it smelled like your friend's home. It had the aroma of being lived in; of people being their everyday selves. They could bindfold you and take you to a random friend's house and you would know where you were just by the odors of the place. Now days, houses have become generic in smell because of mass marketing telling us we "should" have that "springtime fresh scent" in our abodes. There are scented candles burning, doodads sticking in every electrical outlet relieving themselves of some odious concoction, scented detergents for our clothes and soaps for our hair, hides, and hinnies. There are scented "stickups" stuck everywhere, even in the cabinet with the eating plates to keep the hiding roaches happy. Bathroom sprays, kitchen sprays, laundry room sprays, and even outdoors sprays for patio sitting. We use scented clothes softeners in out dryers, wicks of rose scents in our refrigerators, deodorant for our trash compactors and garbage disposals. Gadgets to go inside and outside our kitchen trash cans, and—god help us if the neighbors smell us—sprays, pads, and stick-ons for our curbside garbage cans. They manufacture and market "freshners" for everything we own. Home has taken on the smell of a $2 whore and our vehicles and workplaces are no better. Even the local pub has succumbed to the whims of Fifth Avenue snake-oil sales people. No wonder our allergies are becoming worse and worse; we are constantly bombarded by stinkies we never evolved to handle.
Has anyone stopped to think about these products and just what kind of chemicals go into them that makes them seem pleasing to so many people? What are we breathing? We go inside to get away from the smell of traffic and small engines around our neighborhoods just to subject ourselves on a constant basis to the poisons that saturate our homes. We try to eat safe foods and we buy purified drinking water yet we are committing slow suicide and possibly causing defects in our future offspring by sucking down copious quantities of of unknown chemicals. Our health in our homes is one of the things from the good old days that we should take back from marketing ingenuity. Scent is important for us; we have noses with two hols for sampling the air, and I would much rather sample the smell of the people I am around than those of corporate profit at the expense of our health.
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Have a stink Thursday!
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Forsythia shadow

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I feel too ratty to write ...
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Holding hands with a little boy

"Why don't you grow up?" "You act just like a little boy!" These two statements have dogged me from a few of my family members for all of what I consider my adult years. As a matter of fact, I have grown up; like most people, I worked, I married, I enjoyed having sex, I had children, and I paid taxes. One thing I have not done is to move my frame of mind out of my early childhood years. Until I was about 12 years old and had to face the reality of growing peer pressure, my life was a dream. I had no siblings to contend with or share with or to grow with, but I did live with two uncles whom never quite grew up. They taught me of the things that counted to a bright little boy; they taught me how to listen to the trees talk among themselves, they told me that listening to and learning from nature should be my primary education; they made me laugh. Why should I want to abandon a place and time like country living in the late 1940's and early 1950's. I was happy then and now in my 65th year of life I am still happy when I allow the things I learned in my young wonder years to guide me in these old wonder years. I have grown a bit in wisdom; it is part of the natural process, but I still carry the naivety of the small boy. Being ignorant in the affairs of people causes me much angst and sorrow at times and when such happens, I am again a little boy in eternal summer where I belong; living here and now is a scary feeling and I will not do it.
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Have a great Tchewsdy!
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