To Followers and New Guests...

To Followers and New Guests...

Friday, November 13, 2009


This is a test; the only way to go from VCR to digital was to set my camera to video, and film my tv as it played the tape. The next test was to edit it. Then I tried to email it. All for less than 15 seconds of the news when dad's pic rolled by. The Sasquatch footage was longer, but if this works, it'll be just as unbelievable.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Veteran's Day

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

To all servicemen and women at home and abroad, currently serving, or who have served in the past, THANK YOU! (That includes you too Dad)

Friday, November 6, 2009

For Shannon with ♥

Shannon's Animals
Shannon’s collection began almost the day she was born. As soon as the telephone wires carried news of her arrival, the animals started coming as if Noah himself had called them. To almost every baby present there was attached something squeaky or fuzzy.
Of course, during those first few weeks of life, Shannon didn’t even know about her animals. Each new creature settled in her bassinet or on her shelf, and just waited for her to notice. In the meantime, I enjoyed the cute plush faces.
Babies grow by leaps and bounds and soon Shannon was plumper than her panda. She began to reach for things, and chew on them, and drool on them, and eventually learned to throw them. Her animals were the prime target of her ‘affections’ and reveled in the attention.
I never really noticed the zoo that had overtaken Shannon’s world. All those critters were just baby things to be picked up or tripped over. It wasn’t until our first move that I realized how many there were. I packed all her old friends in one big box, and kept the newer, less dilapidated ones in another. I was sure she’d never miss the ones in poor condition. She was still too young to have formed any lasting relationships.
Shannon thrived and grew and it became apparent that she possessed a sweet disposition. She was a bright, happy toddler who took great interest in anything smaller than herself. She was fascinated by animal stories and cartoons. Her days were filled with the imaginary adventures of her dolls and stuffed friends. And at naps or bedtime one of her charges was selected to cuddle with her and share her dreams.
Our society is a mobile one, and our family was no exception, so once again we pulled up stakes and moved. Shannon’s animals and dolls now filled three big boxes. I still had the original box of
damaged ones to which I had added the newly injured.
The summer that followed that particular move was when Shannon first began her real “attachments”. She was three then, and quite able to speak her mind. When one of her favorite animals could not be found, she refused food, sleep or whatever else was necessary at the time. Nothing mattered but the reunion with her loved one. Her favorites may have varied from day to day, but whatever it was, it had better be close by.
During that year, a pattern began to develop in Shannon’s preferences. Teddy bears are, of course, always a cherished friend, but Shannon also delighted in giraffes, There was a rather unusual thing about the way Shannon acquired her companions. Sometimes she just found them along a road, or in a field somewhere. I never saw anyone who found so many things in such odd places. But what was really strange was that she could meet some animal she liked, possessed by another child, and that child would eventually give it to her. It was almost as if the other child recognized Shannon’s deep love for little creatures. He or she would seem to know that the animal was going to a special home, and gladly give it up. I would try to give them back, but they wouldn’t take them.
Shannon also found the box of damaged animals. One by one they became part of the menagerie. Those most damaged were brought to me for immediate repairs. The others were accepted just as they were; eyeless, noseless, squeakless or whatever. She loved them all.
On one occasion, a very small member of the giraffe family was lost during a boat ride. Shannon was near hysterical. The boat, the pier and the beach were all carefully searched, but the giraffe was gone. Even strangers joined in to find it, so heart wrenching were her sobs.
This particular incident happened during a camping trip, and since no other members of the giraffe family had accompanied us, we were hard pressed to soothe our sensitive child. Even a new squeaky rhinoceros did not ease her pain.
As luck would have it, our travels during that trip brought us to a circus museum, complete with souvenirs. I managed to find another little giraffe of comparable lovability amongst the hawker’s wares. It was, unfortunately, part of a set that carried a price common to souvenirs--exorbitant. I relented and bought it anyway, figuring to divide the set of animals equally between Shannon and her older brother. I don’t have to tell you what happened to her brother’s share. The entire set, and the squeaky rhinoceros, became part of Shannon’s heart.
Shannon is now five. She still possesses every single animal that was ever given to her, and each in its turn is granted her special attention. She introduces them to strangers, and insists that the rest of the family take notice of their individual importance. Even the family pet, our cat, is expected to share in their imaginary escapades. The cat refuses to get involved in the activities that Shannon plans for her friends, but always stays close enough to watch the proceedings. He too has a place in her world.
We’ve all gotten used to having the animals everywhere about. They are so much a part of Shannon’s life that they’ve become a part of our lives as well.
According to the Bible stories, we are all descendents of Noah, his family being the only one saved from the Great Flood. If such is true, Shannon has certainly inherited much from her ancestor. The only thing she doesn’t have at least two of is a unicorn.

Quotable Coelho

One of several thoughts for today.....
"Whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth.
And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to acheive it."

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

What's that spooooky sound?

Just days before Halloween my hubby Mike brought his work home. He is proficient in many forms of engineering ie electrical, mechanical, lead-acid and lithium ion battery technology. He is a genius (think 'Doc' in Back to the Future) So it really wasn't much of a surprise to find an electric car in the driveway.
It is a thing of beauty, even if you are not an engineer. Snappy graphics, all the usual upscale ammenities-just what you'd expect in a vehicle for today and tomorrow. It does dazzle the senses, except for one...hearing.
It is quite literally, the sound of silence. It really strikes you when you come to a stop. You feel immediately (well, I felt immediately) that something is wrong, that the engine must have died. Which of course, it did not. Once again in motion, I was even more aware of the missing sounds. My ears are sending messages to my brain saying 'I'm giving it all she's got Cap'n...!' and there is nothing to hear.
There is a series of pictures of the car on Flickr; if you would like to see the set, named Hybrid, click here


"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all"
Stanley Horowitz
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