tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68031972529117578672024-03-28T20:28:11.518-07:00BobnRita's House PartyBobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.comBlogger782125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-47536765371652560842024-03-21T06:38:00.000-07:002024-03-21T12:05:40.328-07:00Scary Story!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4phNjfDsrjasnSzjj5VPdXkqrqaO7tCD307b-17TRwBOdTNxhievOe2Uuo9kujWpenUFYhDbR5wIrPCOXgoEJA2gNmgwQcbW8fPOZXP4FOkNB_ESBNVIYCnNjbnqJk8uqjxiqW0YytDjvCybcq5jO4yPZToUS7uAKE1LRWJiU9Y4Z3bdEOz6Odo3xMI/s1600/upsidedownrobin.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4phNjfDsrjasnSzjj5VPdXkqrqaO7tCD307b-17TRwBOdTNxhievOe2Uuo9kujWpenUFYhDbR5wIrPCOXgoEJA2gNmgwQcbW8fPOZXP4FOkNB_ESBNVIYCnNjbnqJk8uqjxiqW0YytDjvCybcq5jO4yPZToUS7uAKE1LRWJiU9Y4Z3bdEOz6Odo3xMI/s320/upsidedownrobin.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>This little weasel (aka Robin the (sometimes) Good) gave us quite the scare yesterday and we're not entirely out of the woods yet. As is typical, Robin ate, I fed Neko (with Robin's help) and then we retire upstairs to join Bob and look at the news on the Internet. Robin always get a Kong (*1). So we're drinking coffee and looking at the idiotic things that rethuglicans are puling on about when I turn to Bob and say, "Where's Robin?" She had obviously finished the Kong and had debarked to other parts.</p><p>I walked downstairs and Lo!! The muffins I had placed on the counter to thaw for breakfast has mysteriously disappeared. Robin was looking guilty and sort of slunk off into the living room, I took three more muffins out of the freezer. (In all fairness, she had left us one muffin) </p><p>About twenty minutes later, it occurred to me that these were bran muffins... with RAISINS which we all know are poisonous to dogs. I took out my phone and gooogled just how toxic are they... turns out VERY!! Like 1 raisin for ten pounds of dog! Like I know Robin consumed more than 6 raisins!!</p><p>So I call our vet and they advise to give her a teaspoon of hydrogen peroxide 3% every 15 minutes until she throws up. Anyone want to guess how hard that is? I think I managed to get like a drop of peroxide in her mouth and a bunch all over my face and hands (She wasn't having it). So off to the vet's we went; me hoping that Robin would simply puke in the car as she hates car rides anyway but no go.</p><p>I wind up waiting at the vet's for over two hours as they try (unsucessfully) induce vomiting. (*2) I sat with Robin, thinking maybe seeing me would help her hurl in unfamiliar surroundings. Still nothing. So the vet then takes Robin back into an exam room and they stuff her full of charcoal, which apparently helps absorb any toxins, which she will then throw up. They instruct me that when she throws up, it will be a big, fat, nasty, gooey, black mess.</p><p>Which it was because three minutes after returning home, Robin hurled copiously all over the living room rug. Personally? I was simply glad she had expelled the offending food (*3). I examined it (yes, that's what dog owners do!) and it looked pretty undigested so I'm at least mostly sure she got rid of everything in her.</p><p>Today, she seems fine. She ate with gusto (nothing off our counter), ran around outside, pooped an "interesting" black turd (more charcoal!) and seems fine. She is due to return for a follow-up exam on Saturday to check her blood for abnormal readings. I told her today that those were the world's most expensive muffins: $300 for three muffins!!!</p><p>(*1) A large-ish rubber thing that looks like some sort of sex toy that you fill with broken up dog biscuits and peanut butter. Robin is a serious fan of her morning Kong!! Keeps her "busy" for about three minutes...</p><p>(*2) Interesting fact: I noticed Robin's eyes were really red and the vet explained the vomit-inducing medication is administered through eye drops! Who would think this?!!?!? It apparently gets absorbed really quickly through the conjunctiva! Weird!</p><p>(*3) Lots of it! Breakfast! A Kong! Three muffins!! The dog is NOT starving!!</p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-7329278875891995982024-03-16T05:42:00.000-07:002024-03-16T05:42:36.155-07:00The Life of PIE<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3g-boKMLytmpTDN97TJzd-RC9jUGFIkVugtggYtJqChpnyXQnk_C2GbLoXOsnbpHVpGIFQ7BPkHz_HoQwYBwLbOzb4B1Ti-nGZncO9PArZSmVKqH98zbGhgcaZH9bycZoUdaQz8z6X57UpmIehYuAK-Qitl_A3oL3HvjHE9WgHKIOlEMXSjoAfBE8Ds/s1008/pie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="756" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3g-boKMLytmpTDN97TJzd-RC9jUGFIkVugtggYtJqChpnyXQnk_C2GbLoXOsnbpHVpGIFQ7BPkHz_HoQwYBwLbOzb4B1Ti-nGZncO9PArZSmVKqH98zbGhgcaZH9bycZoUdaQz8z6X57UpmIehYuAK-Qitl_A3oL3HvjHE9WgHKIOlEMXSjoAfBE8Ds/s320/pie.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>In celebration (yes! another holiday!) of "Pi Day"(that is March 14th or 3/14) Bob suggested that pie was indeed called for. I had recently scored a bag of limes and the urge to concoct hit, so I made a Key Lime Pie. And as it's (kinda) green, it will double for a St. Patrick's Day dessert as well. It is delicious.</p><p>On other green notes, Spring does seem like it's here as the grass is greening and perennials are poking their heads above ground. Hooray. I actually have several primroses (the Stop and Shop/Shop Rite variety) blooming outside. Those are hardy little buggers! And peepers! Our vast estate is full of emergent sounds. Welcome back to all the birds and bugs.</p><p>This post is brief as it's another truly lovely day outside and I'm eager to get out there and do a bit of gardening. So byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!</p><p><br /></p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-50383831868286513962024-03-02T06:26:00.000-08:002024-03-02T06:26:19.599-08:00Everything's Comin' Up Roses<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukKpFP6sxuQdRzeTUjyRzOm_d87r0JWdtygkmlyaTxj5Tfwtg1VK2cf7iqTuDNuFak9dyMHnQrNseYXNKcnTtxOcSWyklUTbJAf6T_dPcTLpft63SoqIGyDXYBg5oMF8xO7ujGw2nw74p-BfZILTKuFgTtobrsU7KD7j46LMnURacttarREhRNszuhwU/s936/flwshw2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="918" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukKpFP6sxuQdRzeTUjyRzOm_d87r0JWdtygkmlyaTxj5Tfwtg1VK2cf7iqTuDNuFak9dyMHnQrNseYXNKcnTtxOcSWyklUTbJAf6T_dPcTLpft63SoqIGyDXYBg5oMF8xO7ujGw2nw74p-BfZILTKuFgTtobrsU7KD7j46LMnURacttarREhRNszuhwU/s320/flwshw2.jpg" width="314" /></a></div><div><br /></div>So Bob and I went to the Flower and Garden Show at The Hartford Convention Center. We got slightly "lost" (more like turned around)and had to back track and wound up accidentally on the right street, right in front of the Convention Center. I must say (*1) that who ever designed this concrete monstrosity of a parking garage and convention center was lacking just a bit in the ease/aesthetics department. After parking your car, you wander in an endless frigid expanse of cement and crosswalks, searching for an elusive elevator. One nice consideration was the above sign which helped us recall exactly where our car was located in the cement wilderness. For this we can be grateful!<div><br /></div><div>We had pre-purchased tickest and thought we'd be whisked straight into the exhibit, but seems everyone else pre-purchased tickets so we stood cheek-by-jowl with hundreds of other plant nerds, inching our way forward all the while serenaded by a young woman folk singer with and oddly tiny guitar. Not quite sure what she had to do with horticulture... I guess it was to keep us calm as we shambled forward.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOmgP_Bgq4VTeqNuBac9yhvaHajqUvVaTAs1PvLsuTHLxvg1avMWQ2BtNna5S_9iG0FcmLeMobm_NiHIQp-issSZUHB6L3LIFSv_tN7B6PZwKpC4jTi2sR7vDR4w-3QrI1AsG1mYIu5zHTI2SrE34SgbMJIsCISVzh0Kq0wCnR7olqiMCKdESi-yFQhU/s1152/flwshw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOmgP_Bgq4VTeqNuBac9yhvaHajqUvVaTAs1PvLsuTHLxvg1avMWQ2BtNna5S_9iG0FcmLeMobm_NiHIQp-issSZUHB6L3LIFSv_tN7B6PZwKpC4jTi2sR7vDR4w-3QrI1AsG1mYIu5zHTI2SrE34SgbMJIsCISVzh0Kq0wCnR7olqiMCKdESi-yFQhU/s320/flwshw.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Here's Bob pretending to be a giant as he impishly pranked holding what was in reality a giant watering can turned fountain. There were several impressive displays featuring large flowering trees and giant pieces of equipment (also turned into fountains) and lots and lots of forced bulbs and shrubs and primroses and hellebores. Yes, there were plants for sale but it struck us as a hard time of year to purchase plants because you'd have to hold them unitl it was warm enough to dig and plant them outside. But there was a stellar flower arrangement area where we were asked to vote on our favorites. Some pretty far-out arrangements, many incorporating odd materials and crazy color combos.</div><div><br /></div><div>The sheer number of non-garden related tchoctchkes available was also impressive and inexplicable. Wind up dogs and cats (!?), clothes (and not garden related), jewelry... although I admit the only things we purchased were a bottle of an interesting Hibiscus liquer and a pair of alpaca socks. We ran into the nice people at The Connecticut Gardener magazine (Hello Anne and Will!) for whom I write entertaining garden humor. Also, we encountered a woman with whom I used to work at the auction house, lo these many years ago. Unexpected!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYWEv3or6JYgGklu7GAtC6z54ChO6S8WAGIUpfPoPOdHKXpvEZCUfZnhr-lg6z3SVZwcZQiRIbOnxyTfuO9ZoECXS6iINBzMTaV49PuJjp80e7xSSspsO2iMPzNQ3w1o5cwxjTXHg1_NIop35X76MG0FHohhm7qnMY_ceX5Ium8jRUbax2ry0ECUCT3M/s960/robinbed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYWEv3or6JYgGklu7GAtC6z54ChO6S8WAGIUpfPoPOdHKXpvEZCUfZnhr-lg6z3SVZwcZQiRIbOnxyTfuO9ZoECXS6iINBzMTaV49PuJjp80e7xSSspsO2iMPzNQ3w1o5cwxjTXHg1_NIop35X76MG0FHohhm7qnMY_ceX5Ium8jRUbax2ry0ECUCT3M/s320/robinbed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>And speaking of flowers and roses, I recently made the above bed for our beloved princess Robin the Good. Poor Robin was sleeping on a bed that Mommy made for Frank the Dog (*2) and it was getting thin and probably not all that comfortable. She seems to really like it and nothing is too good for our little angel!<br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(*1) Sounding altogether like Ed Grimley if you remember him!</div></div></div><div>(*2) Both long gone! Frank the Dog was resident canine way back in Bridgewater; that's like 20 years ago! He's still missed. A quirky fellow, but brave and true! Although an amusing aside is that Mommy embroidered his initials (for <u>F</u>rank <u>V</u>alley <u>K</u>eating) in such a way that it reads like FUK. I always appreciated that detail!</div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-81251535026272001862024-02-17T10:59:00.000-08:002024-02-17T10:59:55.656-08:00Crazee Holiday Cluster<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2ubZ6HBNgeO2zN82ka5nL6gx3GjmvbXjvufN5uCsr-uVUdxq7Uf1XH-21uY6Sr_e5hK9ic1QGInnAX7Zx3grMuOaUoLcl3tljyTOAD7M_Ohc-VulUEK6prLwurmVU2zJYxghLCUD_BJXhvPjN9txHlhANVBV-LKx2ZrgSg2A80JSmpIW-vOr6XOqNj8/s960/snow1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2ubZ6HBNgeO2zN82ka5nL6gx3GjmvbXjvufN5uCsr-uVUdxq7Uf1XH-21uY6Sr_e5hK9ic1QGInnAX7Zx3grMuOaUoLcl3tljyTOAD7M_Ohc-VulUEK6prLwurmVU2zJYxghLCUD_BJXhvPjN9txHlhANVBV-LKx2ZrgSg2A80JSmpIW-vOr6XOqNj8/s320/snow1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Oh February has just been a big blur with us lurching form one holiday to the next!</p><p>First we encountered Ground Hog's Day- always a major event at our house, despite my sister (hello Beatrice!) telling me that the groundhog has an abysmal record of notifiying us of Spring's arrival. (something like 33%? Not good!) And lo! He (She?) predicted a quick end to our already non-existent Winter. And the Winter arrived with fury... (*1) All it does is snow:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGgSFcLV3qEd5yS1mJjX3-4yH6HQdlYQp8XQL2Fb-y6JssMMuDOvyE4s85lit4edeyVVv6P3RaE4uCspiSw85ZlLs92dm2voPW3DDThFVIfwNIWDvtFZlRxY6_p9CXnsCoodXVoCwHkClAbGOjRPbVvpfXjkfkNX0waBhqWOOntQw2eXvFYDGu_W8nXE/s1008/snow2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="882" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGgSFcLV3qEd5yS1mJjX3-4yH6HQdlYQp8XQL2Fb-y6JssMMuDOvyE4s85lit4edeyVVv6P3RaE4uCspiSw85ZlLs92dm2voPW3DDThFVIfwNIWDvtFZlRxY6_p9CXnsCoodXVoCwHkClAbGOjRPbVvpfXjkfkNX0waBhqWOOntQw2eXvFYDGu_W8nXE/s320/snow2.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><p>So shuffling out past Ground Hog's Day, we encountered The Super Bowl. Except that we couldn't watch it as we aren't signed up for any of the streaming platforms offering the game and I'll be damned if I'm signing up for another stnking streaming service. (Don't get me started on that bait-and-switch game.) So a day later, (*2) we watched high lights of half time and some not very funny Super Bowl ads. (*3)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wXjbyib1frC3_t5046xOomhsgiANoiRm4Laulwrej_YTIXm64sa8hh8QO0RnrzjbyRm4xGuuPHU_5WfZDsiPMUqucFvZaMJqD0FAI44tYf7P096di2c1elYlJT-wzIGX5z7TCumxPhVM7LoXqaKGPYu30VO4KEnApYZEiIEE37I4Ih-ViHlJ4z3tmoI/s960/snow3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wXjbyib1frC3_t5046xOomhsgiANoiRm4Laulwrej_YTIXm64sa8hh8QO0RnrzjbyRm4xGuuPHU_5WfZDsiPMUqucFvZaMJqD0FAI44tYf7P096di2c1elYlJT-wzIGX5z7TCumxPhVM7LoXqaKGPYu30VO4KEnApYZEiIEE37I4Ih-ViHlJ4z3tmoI/s320/snow3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The Super Bowl was quickly forgotten as we catapulted directly into Mardi Gras. We were expecting a big snow storm- the first in several years- so we went out and purchased provisions for the weather event and Fat Tuesday. We managed to score a King Cake and were thrilled it even included the all important plastic baby. (*4) However, our gooey, cinnamony hopes were dashed on discovering the cake was super stale. I returned it to the store. Better luck next year!!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksNs6INxj9PCRdsS8fc89LwEXdqXl9Qdd2gEdh4MG29iJ_4MZPrnLLizObcDR0KABE4XlyMkoLoBVS8IUKH6nIqerEoO5XPGL6cfjwre-S-q186BAaeh_8v7Vxra1fWgWHatOrulfUdq3vKdpT9SWT_NhBqxFLnHzbhz90Pb4eYpgoQ33jTk9d31MgE4/s1008/snow4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="756" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksNs6INxj9PCRdsS8fc89LwEXdqXl9Qdd2gEdh4MG29iJ_4MZPrnLLizObcDR0KABE4XlyMkoLoBVS8IUKH6nIqerEoO5XPGL6cfjwre-S-q186BAaeh_8v7Vxra1fWgWHatOrulfUdq3vKdpT9SWT_NhBqxFLnHzbhz90Pb4eYpgoQ33jTk9d31MgE4/s320/snow4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>(Of course, a fabulous Bob sculpture enrobbed in the fluffy white stuff!)<br /><p>And of course, the very next day was Valentine's Day. We spent the majority of the day romantically removing all that lovely snow that fell on us. We were both exhausted at the end of the day. A few friends pointed out that Valentine's Day coincided with Ash Wednesday and I suppose that's bad news for all the people who "celebrate" Ash Wednesday by giving up things like chocolate for Lent. (*5) Not being among the (ahem) faithful, we went right on celebrating...</p><p>And if memory serves me correctly, Monday is President's Day. Not sure what sort of edibles we'll do to celebrate that but it won't include chocolate!</p><p>(*1) Damned ground hog!</p><p>(*2) Bob got up earlier than me on the Monday after "the big game", so I enquired of him, "Who won?" He informed me that the Kansas City 49's won. To which I replied that was a mash up of both teams. He responded that one- or both- had won.</p><p>(*3) Some weird thing about feet being washed and lots of beer and I lost interest...</p><p>(*4) Bob placed it and I got it on the first slice! I think it means I'm required to buy next year's cake.</p><p>(*5) Haven't we all given up chocolate because it's full of lead and cadmium and other heavy metals? </p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-29900644542059562192024-01-31T08:00:00.000-08:002024-01-31T08:00:07.857-08:00Happy Birthday to Beatrice!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDh5GAh1D8W3W8VwisuqcuSs4kqI3slZUXg4en3tyzgInvlqrlmp6MPpMcT2cTCR4YySuAVnbtpOfWrpwpNmeDO06XM9VJGQ_0Fgj5twlJwtlytKWTxwr1CP94kROLNimKziWj-j-3J7HT5iuXjT5Ibm2HvmvHryBaw-A38ehG_sO-7w1-2sddG_MCeio/s379/bea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="379" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDh5GAh1D8W3W8VwisuqcuSs4kqI3slZUXg4en3tyzgInvlqrlmp6MPpMcT2cTCR4YySuAVnbtpOfWrpwpNmeDO06XM9VJGQ_0Fgj5twlJwtlytKWTxwr1CP94kROLNimKziWj-j-3J7HT5iuXjT5Ibm2HvmvHryBaw-A38ehG_sO-7w1-2sddG_MCeio/s320/bea.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Happy Birthday to my sister Beatrice! While carefully considering all the ways to honor her and celebrate her name day, I decided the bestest way was to illustrate exactly where her present comes from. A true story of farm to table!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVe2EvV8MJM8DGfhyphenhyphenFrz3ugmclC0A6DJ3FuGLiRTcMoSVl71BSZvUGoyWl3YfOwRwFes-aZ3igEjqHEcDIrsY1S_kcCNYAfvz-nAk9isrbEUmmkXGILc0JpTPKBvlBaF_bhl3NAS9KQnKCK3rqr3FMLYyuFuThF3m-o4Hzh-4Q89tqhLCIWCk8z4XjPHc/s1018/beacard1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1018" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVe2EvV8MJM8DGfhyphenhyphenFrz3ugmclC0A6DJ3FuGLiRTcMoSVl71BSZvUGoyWl3YfOwRwFes-aZ3igEjqHEcDIrsY1S_kcCNYAfvz-nAk9isrbEUmmkXGILc0JpTPKBvlBaF_bhl3NAS9KQnKCK3rqr3FMLYyuFuThF3m-o4Hzh-4Q89tqhLCIWCk8z4XjPHc/s320/beacard1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Here at our factory, our employees are skilled in the most efficient methods of converting feed to the raw stage of our product. Above, is Neko, your personal provider.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXP4ScIC4O3beDx8GJqzurXu_prbvMVLTKDWEEXCCjWEYRSXSYF4-puALNIdzYncKreZH_O1nnFO-DT36WEhClfQ5YxcaPB2z8htbX_3J6VtJs2hs4GSgKKM_9hNBmOMzGjlqgW0OoglVwlXH0Ls91NovN0Yy59jJ4zSJwfsVVrZ8MGGW2-znMHQqsjc/s960/beacard2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXP4ScIC4O3beDx8GJqzurXu_prbvMVLTKDWEEXCCjWEYRSXSYF4-puALNIdzYncKreZH_O1nnFO-DT36WEhClfQ5YxcaPB2z8htbX_3J6VtJs2hs4GSgKKM_9hNBmOMzGjlqgW0OoglVwlXH0Ls91NovN0Yy59jJ4zSJwfsVVrZ8MGGW2-znMHQqsjc/s320/beacard2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Freshly generated product is harvested several times a day and transported in our state-of-the-art conveyance to our modern processing department.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4fIKv0iCt4ym8icXzUScY-gf4xQrFOqPZ18blwvODBP0fy-inccUZXQ2SE0Isje8fOY9wr8O50D1hqHxTd7CM_iUEh_9N8oBpiy4szOJPjHIpdWsFgj0Q_5IR4wSMhNGseirdolVxYC5kzy-vjKoM3cYkM_abzrRhIkrvgX5DZ2KgUEHJBRn9BdgYnc/s960/beacard3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4fIKv0iCt4ym8icXzUScY-gf4xQrFOqPZ18blwvODBP0fy-inccUZXQ2SE0Isje8fOY9wr8O50D1hqHxTd7CM_iUEh_9N8oBpiy4szOJPjHIpdWsFgj0Q_5IR4wSMhNGseirdolVxYC5kzy-vjKoM3cYkM_abzrRhIkrvgX5DZ2KgUEHJBRn9BdgYnc/s320/beacard3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>(Note: employee monitoring collection in the field). After arriving at our hygenic and scrupulously inspected facility, product is added to the ever-growing heap of compost in preparation..</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhwJFt8gTQqsfk6B9owhqOUtFlb_LFBxO1uSdAhpvUIfNq_tuq2U7g94MnNFhXBYqD5OIXK_r9yX0cJZlo_Ik3PxXK9nb14myoGrc1HCeE0gSqyraBHXUYrDeRjrE4AbUJKz3g09Jh-1sJy0_nri8EhP_7xiYtrzoTUhVFuP7_CAIUVK9cWkePFgiFgQ/s960/beacard5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhwJFt8gTQqsfk6B9owhqOUtFlb_LFBxO1uSdAhpvUIfNq_tuq2U7g94MnNFhXBYqD5OIXK_r9yX0cJZlo_Ik3PxXK9nb14myoGrc1HCeE0gSqyraBHXUYrDeRjrE4AbUJKz3g09Jh-1sJy0_nri8EhP_7xiYtrzoTUhVFuP7_CAIUVK9cWkePFgiFgQ/s320/beacard5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Several months of patience is rewarded with the finished product, ready to be delivered right in time for Spring planting! Black gold! Happy Birthday Beatrice! May your garden grow green and be the envy of all your garden friends!!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjp5dVRKWjscLivFDooap5HoZ9QwjLl-bIH9NeDBz1jSGQDvyN7X-E454IrqBuTUPVqGo6sPIvMSla0qkJ-xKcletSPn8AHXji2WbZHloB_58Bq7dYOayAoY9q8ZIX5ENFA_eVtf7ulngNo-snhFMxj-s-J37R5Zd5vhsV7EK1osykfZCSGt8aTPDlNEM/s960/beacard6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjp5dVRKWjscLivFDooap5HoZ9QwjLl-bIH9NeDBz1jSGQDvyN7X-E454IrqBuTUPVqGo6sPIvMSla0qkJ-xKcletSPn8AHXji2WbZHloB_58Bq7dYOayAoY9q8ZIX5ENFA_eVtf7ulngNo-snhFMxj-s-J37R5Zd5vhsV7EK1osykfZCSGt8aTPDlNEM/s320/beacard6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-84895799359372877422024-01-28T09:01:00.000-08:002024-01-28T09:01:35.917-08:00Visitors!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoClYtAup4b45XvTGQGofBLRkY1nw9KLY7cCTcTtumE7yjyJqq5khn4miMvSg_qgOyHUE3NptbtaipZnyLxoo0SBycy5et45Uv5oNFLXPu0SjgfBrj2ZxHgEjdGEd58dOEQU6tYYvptjbZcWCQQQzNVHztvRJ1GDLiTweRbFmlSOjifXttMINHQpOPhY/s1008/sno4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="756" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoClYtAup4b45XvTGQGofBLRkY1nw9KLY7cCTcTtumE7yjyJqq5khn4miMvSg_qgOyHUE3NptbtaipZnyLxoo0SBycy5et45Uv5oNFLXPu0SjgfBrj2ZxHgEjdGEd58dOEQU6tYYvptjbZcWCQQQzNVHztvRJ1GDLiTweRbFmlSOjifXttMINHQpOPhY/s320/sno4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Other people look out their windows and have lovely untouched expanses of pristine snow... not us! We had about an inch of snow the other day and it was quickly violated by our outdoor activities, which on this particular day included dragging 3/4 of a ton of steel down to Bob's studio on a cart. (They would deliver on a snowy day. Most of the time, the steel company is a day or two off in their projected delivery day).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRK22MC3xK5OOTiFZrbWD2gv7iL8H18dB7gmdRrbKEo0Udp4JACT2tyxfmd5iTRzGpgn3SBZIcSBaOtmHjiHduyhyphenhyphenIgdjUOEwLRCyKwYoZOa5jeoJgaBG8t1-44kEykt0uEiHyUwJXYIm0muZCrFpKh7FaE9SGDogrDKRmmyTWCfdkzRhawqphjeyd6iw/s1008/sno3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="756" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRK22MC3xK5OOTiFZrbWD2gv7iL8H18dB7gmdRrbKEo0Udp4JACT2tyxfmd5iTRzGpgn3SBZIcSBaOtmHjiHduyhyphenhyphenIgdjUOEwLRCyKwYoZOa5jeoJgaBG8t1-44kEykt0uEiHyUwJXYIm0muZCrFpKh7FaE9SGDogrDKRmmyTWCfdkzRhawqphjeyd6iw/s320/sno3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Also, Robin and I do a fabulous job of running around and generally marking the snow up. It looks like a school-full of crazy kids has visited. But we did have visitors of another sort:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMp9fextetqGlRn0mfyk8PqpIfPTkq7EmtbuOhFE6elc7JAbKD3O55PuePntq3lsRH1eyXU-e0L7vVBbTaUsluuep1QUMlxQMy4nVBUlWnOFCK_xwQzV82In23x0-XrlMWZF-DrBiU2k1qfot7B8lRyQaQ7cjrAE9WP979vyHafsR9OHGgi-3KOJyd6w/s960/sno1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMp9fextetqGlRn0mfyk8PqpIfPTkq7EmtbuOhFE6elc7JAbKD3O55PuePntq3lsRH1eyXU-e0L7vVBbTaUsluuep1QUMlxQMy4nVBUlWnOFCK_xwQzV82In23x0-XrlMWZF-DrBiU2k1qfot7B8lRyQaQ7cjrAE9WP979vyHafsR9OHGgi-3KOJyd6w/s320/sno1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>That's Robin the Good's paw print on the right, next to small pawprints that were left all through our back yard. I think they were foxes? And I think there were two of them as prints that worked their way to our terrace (nosy little buggers!) wove in and out of each other. They inspected Robin's cache of outdoor toys and probably looked in the back window to see what we were up to. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0p6HgKt4DBM9UKM5fMLFUKzNcVC-f3Z0MshyphenhyphenTPjIO1RdmiaUlHTZGWRLpb3uoQolheIHo2kywpWbFOvvObXa5_M17uf02x71VBEGUi3I6qHhnuhyphenhyphendC8zOUByKatNhgm_UJmaCfDCqGDxypfwFPpL_oDX7HWmEg-QR6VhpDhUaShduYU11mLRE9lQuE9o/s1048/sno2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="1048" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0p6HgKt4DBM9UKM5fMLFUKzNcVC-f3Z0MshyphenhyphenTPjIO1RdmiaUlHTZGWRLpb3uoQolheIHo2kywpWbFOvvObXa5_M17uf02x71VBEGUi3I6qHhnuhyphenhyphendC8zOUByKatNhgm_UJmaCfDCqGDxypfwFPpL_oDX7HWmEg-QR6VhpDhUaShduYU11mLRE9lQuE9o/s320/sno2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Here's another shot of Robin's front foot print. She was very interested in the trail of the visitors! They're probably the same little individuals who left a small poop on the very southeast of the terrace a afew weeks back. Just letting us know they're here!</p><p> </p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-65526698912503370552024-01-17T07:56:00.000-08:002024-01-17T07:56:27.634-08:00Gotta Love A Land Line!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwON-1eVwHjbVGUbDvrej6tIrgvPK07X7s1KRillTaJ2HeSrbOK8gDy2E38FelvZLZReX6aTq-bq4hOkTYYQotseyFsCj3-AW6zGs7BLff3aeQ9-7RqxOAHReoz3JVFHtSkrdjm3mK7V31OEsB8yOJoOW0xpyANtkzSihRG6JZNuUHCpFQVZgcPFgD92E/s936/phone1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwON-1eVwHjbVGUbDvrej6tIrgvPK07X7s1KRillTaJ2HeSrbOK8gDy2E38FelvZLZReX6aTq-bq4hOkTYYQotseyFsCj3-AW6zGs7BLff3aeQ9-7RqxOAHReoz3JVFHtSkrdjm3mK7V31OEsB8yOJoOW0xpyANtkzSihRG6JZNuUHCpFQVZgcPFgD92E/s320/phone1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Here it is! Thebest sort of technology. Take it out of the box, plug it inot the wall, pick up that hand set and make a call. Astonishing! Easy as 1-2-3 and no need to call for tech support. Yes, I realize there are individuals out that who will call me a Troglodyte or a Luddite but I like our land line.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NNHmYSZ7vaF04n6xTEl9ObqoLcSwsu_vcAUr5YVhXrw50EhODefI5fxgu1y_QcY5O0MTs13YtoFzoHGREDhK95q5vXAxInpgHScJ0lia897iCw6nlNnksmtjpvjD8E-jUcAAaTMjFXZhWJlyEux3BBtqruSW-0HsD6c7yDz9u8vFfmmhOxW_ODVT2xI/s986/phone3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="986" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NNHmYSZ7vaF04n6xTEl9ObqoLcSwsu_vcAUr5YVhXrw50EhODefI5fxgu1y_QcY5O0MTs13YtoFzoHGREDhK95q5vXAxInpgHScJ0lia897iCw6nlNnksmtjpvjD8E-jUcAAaTMjFXZhWJlyEux3BBtqruSW-0HsD6c7yDz9u8vFfmmhOxW_ODVT2xI/s320/phone3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>And here are the two "other" sorts of phone. The one on the right is my old phone, being retired because (as stated in an earlier blog) it was possessed and devious and cranky. It still "works" but not really well and not on my terms. The phone on the left is the new model. I am just learning its ways...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHPWZb6xNCOEp0clu_pcbRZAa1Pb-OrrUHYa3H8tmGXCzacrgD15ZyoqrpGU34ZzzoX_SfgeKfwBWkBe9DO4iU7Cz9y6-DDFVjWp2lhNFRL7Q0cKtxbxiDeKm5cDatIx_H0GKm8DBhebdEocrURffkE4NksgAhhS4HI6SPA7aaovYp1ytmYtIjB2125g/s919/phone2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="792" data-original-width="919" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHPWZb6xNCOEp0clu_pcbRZAa1Pb-OrrUHYa3H8tmGXCzacrgD15ZyoqrpGU34ZzzoX_SfgeKfwBWkBe9DO4iU7Cz9y6-DDFVjWp2lhNFRL7Q0cKtxbxiDeKm5cDatIx_H0GKm8DBhebdEocrURffkE4NksgAhhS4HI6SPA7aaovYp1ytmYtIjB2125g/s320/phone2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(Sorry about the wonky lighting; that table is actually white!) Just to illustrate that they both still turn on. So the new phone seemed to start of auspiciously- after spending an hour and a half on tech support. The nice woman I dealt with tried to help me and I attempted to be my most self-deprecating self, saying, "Oh you must get so tired of dealing with peopel like me who can't figure anything out!"- but she was pretty patient but also seemed more than happy to dump me by saying, "Thanks so much for calling and enjoy you new phone" before hanging up on me. We did succeed in getting the phone partially set up (ie; I could acess the Internet and receive/send messages) but I hadn't been able to transfer my contacts or other info and I wasn't able to answer incoming calls. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I will not bore you with my efforts the next day- suffice it to say the phone company in question was having a bad day and suffering from technical difficulties. (Was I supposed to help them?!?!) It took three attempts before I got connected to a less than pleasant guy did assist in getting the phone to work (I think) but then basically told me to "find an app" when I asked for help transferring contacts from my old phone! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">God helps those that help themselves, so I took Bob's suggestion that I watch a YouTube tutorial on how to transfer data and Hey Presto!! I did it! I am so inordinately proud of myself. Like magic, all 100+ phone contacts are now happily ensconced on my new device. I called it a day after that... still need to transfer some photos and still trying to figure out how to get home screen icons of thongs I use but there's always tomorrow!!</div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-33284247754880877992024-01-09T08:21:00.000-08:002024-01-09T08:21:54.340-08:00A Snowy Start<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmVo6AWVj9Tnz0F7UKbPiZPd6yADruXaLNL17hIrpxEyH5UIgGIb0lCv4oE7SyfRGsbF_u64-Oi1SC-9ODfX7AluD8BC1ER_sSsmVWhTrZj-SfvTwe_HxiJiWbO0ri-qWqy06v4urVFGw48ajyvbqvYI0zb3k4Gr46xB1uuaWtVotpF8BZV1gtuCWgUc/s960/winterwonder2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmVo6AWVj9Tnz0F7UKbPiZPd6yADruXaLNL17hIrpxEyH5UIgGIb0lCv4oE7SyfRGsbF_u64-Oi1SC-9ODfX7AluD8BC1ER_sSsmVWhTrZj-SfvTwe_HxiJiWbO0ri-qWqy06v4urVFGw48ajyvbqvYI0zb3k4Gr46xB1uuaWtVotpF8BZV1gtuCWgUc/s320/winterwonder2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Well yes, a snowy start to 2024 but let's see how long that snow lasts! Not having had almost any for two years, it is interesting to contemplate a world of white. It's supposed to rain- like torrents!- tonight and probably turn all that snow into slush. Tomorrow is going to be almost 50 degrees so goodbye snow!</p><p>Januaury 3rd saw the anniversary of our having moved to the BauHaus Chicken Coop a full twelve years ago. As a friend remarked: time does fly! I have also posted over 800 (!!! Yikes!!) blogs describing our time here. I realize I haven't posted quite as diligently in the last year... but really? We've been really busy and soemtimes I just forget to document all the weird and wonderful things we've done.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVT38avNDeQlQMdor37BUUG5NbQCqUcWt5g5Ln20GT-4OJk7-ZTI9Ms3DBD-u00tMHSoiAjZL2vwnS3w5m2N_ez1Mvu0_KTcSXRbPLNSCqeKSdMP3KTgYmiJ2qmNtoEwPVCOU-QSMsvvsj11V0moOtC6DP3NnASR0rBWud2h90mSV8hK6E3X22XhBmG0/s960/winterwonder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVT38avNDeQlQMdor37BUUG5NbQCqUcWt5g5Ln20GT-4OJk7-ZTI9Ms3DBD-u00tMHSoiAjZL2vwnS3w5m2N_ez1Mvu0_KTcSXRbPLNSCqeKSdMP3KTgYmiJ2qmNtoEwPVCOU-QSMsvvsj11V0moOtC6DP3NnASR0rBWud2h90mSV8hK6E3X22XhBmG0/s320/winterwonder.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And don't expect brilliance from me today. I haven't slept well in three (count 'em 3!!) days and am running on fumes. As the weather is supposed to disintegrate into nastiness soon, I may just crawl back to bed and hibernate. Wish me pleasant dreams!</div><br /><p><br /></p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-46515567932042765072023-12-31T09:36:00.000-08:002023-12-31T09:36:49.052-08:00New Year A Comin'<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-mD5XMwV9RjlCwQeprt87NlegfGg2DbkKbedKy7Dn0XWvxlMrtNXutcIOGXXVQFzPAjwap8-E4fg0NNFYLzjuptBYSTL8H2c0NV8owyVqm5yHqyqUngKirNiZYjW5Uu_0ySW41gp4zxIcR-a4LYTsxuhXnMkl87Sfi_VGebLRD1KYW0qjMHsPXv-qrI/s1440/xmastree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-mD5XMwV9RjlCwQeprt87NlegfGg2DbkKbedKy7Dn0XWvxlMrtNXutcIOGXXVQFzPAjwap8-E4fg0NNFYLzjuptBYSTL8H2c0NV8owyVqm5yHqyqUngKirNiZYjW5Uu_0ySW41gp4zxIcR-a4LYTsxuhXnMkl87Sfi_VGebLRD1KYW0qjMHsPXv-qrI/s320/xmastree.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>For those of you who haven't had the chance to experience our lovely 2023 model Xmas tree- here it is! Still Xmas at our house, at least for a couple more weeks.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF70xCqAWQZVdz8jHJosnS_eqZpzvQ2xOaQn5z4WoMLnsVYZcPOQZmRVoTTW-mfRJIhwhyphenhyphenh6NVkPl94cwl-kgintDDBzkHP6r9E18VZfUtQTKVYr5x7I0WsMwvCHNYdmcRlgVONbGUVvyICc8P5oKP-z2Xz6FfbJ-aJ828hR8vSs0tleEpD2guUQm9xqE/s936/ny2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="787" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF70xCqAWQZVdz8jHJosnS_eqZpzvQ2xOaQn5z4WoMLnsVYZcPOQZmRVoTTW-mfRJIhwhyphenhyphenh6NVkPl94cwl-kgintDDBzkHP6r9E18VZfUtQTKVYr5x7I0WsMwvCHNYdmcRlgVONbGUVvyICc8P5oKP-z2Xz6FfbJ-aJ828hR8vSs0tleEpD2guUQm9xqE/s320/ny2.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><p>And it's going to be "New Year, New Phone" as my old phone (read very old, really old) shit the bed. Let's face it: it's been a long time coming as my relationship with my Luna Pro 3 was fraught, to put it mildly. </p><p>The phone's existence started out fine but seemed to develop personal quirks and unnecesary idiosyncracies. I swear it was mildly possessed. It was sometimes cranky about turning on, but then became increasingly hard to turn off. It took to dialing random numbers when unasked and sometimes just sat there and refused to do anything at all. I confess to hurling/tossing/flinging and occasionally- yes!- throwing my phone across the room, or if outdoors, across the lawn. I horrified Bob.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUE0ME-5yRg9Pg2mDf9lMl_Dc7PWCQfSNYf48dqMeUqaM_nUQ_CHTmdvDOfk161MIs1H53lauoVbPLF31EPvXDGLVpjjm9bpapol7fwiCI0VbJNAcuob0D7uGDQbLPyVJAUt4LF3IDabeeSq2zjeOg1C4lUK8Adu-zhLrs7R4d8PVsJRKe582HzzpjLPU/s936/ny1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="763" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUE0ME-5yRg9Pg2mDf9lMl_Dc7PWCQfSNYf48dqMeUqaM_nUQ_CHTmdvDOfk161MIs1H53lauoVbPLF31EPvXDGLVpjjm9bpapol7fwiCI0VbJNAcuob0D7uGDQbLPyVJAUt4LF3IDabeeSq2zjeOg1C4lUK8Adu-zhLrs7R4d8PVsJRKe582HzzpjLPU/s320/ny1.jpg" width="261" /></a></div><p>So I am now phone-less in a society absolutely welded to their phones. I feel remarkably bouyant and liberated. The only thing I have missed thus far is my cocktail-hour immersion in Wordle and Spelling Bee. (Bob lent me his phone, but it wasn't the same.) My new phone is on its way; it should be in my possession by the end of the week. Meanwhile, I am perfectly happy to resort to landline and desktop for my communicating and computing needs.</p><p>And here's one last image to take away from 2023 and its increasingly weird weather. Mud. Endless overcast skies, lots of rain and so much mud!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnk-x_cyjUIl9aMenJjMjLAyN2K_BFBn_h77afdSsFJSPpEHXZZGMm6MnMzCBqJolKyoqlrrOkCaQc_lFkb394JFYopzFgLCzWa_Is9gjTit-8g05fB0-F3tSJ777DcfhPRvAiBnrTj3KMrOy5IHZqt2Rcfe8VJ8ckbw2Cujtn4peYftHL9KcaDwz_PlM/s480/nekodirtsm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnk-x_cyjUIl9aMenJjMjLAyN2K_BFBn_h77afdSsFJSPpEHXZZGMm6MnMzCBqJolKyoqlrrOkCaQc_lFkb394JFYopzFgLCzWa_Is9gjTit-8g05fB0-F3tSJ777DcfhPRvAiBnrTj3KMrOy5IHZqt2Rcfe8VJ8ckbw2Cujtn4peYftHL9KcaDwz_PlM/s320/nekodirtsm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Here's my pony, anointed in it. Let's not get into the ramifications of it's being New Year's Eve and we have had zero snow. The ground isn't even frozen. I guess we'll have to wake up tomorrow in a brand new year and embrace the mud. Happy New Year!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-47071930627557485852023-12-13T06:09:00.000-08:002023-12-13T06:09:07.740-08:00Doing Something Right!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLaEpknK_PrAc7xXd0_FBS6bAkyPoOheeJUlXnbtQnKtjryjJXmp-NU9LLy0vy3YHjh3cwS_3QQLi1eEeU7a6jYmMsrWaimO01C-SgNYIC-qfwM8U333to14Ln12bRRakR5RjbtZj1CZ9mTBKHMgVIvmrg-3KnSle0s4bSFx9SffiVI09jof8Ls9fE1k/s960/wintergarden2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLaEpknK_PrAc7xXd0_FBS6bAkyPoOheeJUlXnbtQnKtjryjJXmp-NU9LLy0vy3YHjh3cwS_3QQLi1eEeU7a6jYmMsrWaimO01C-SgNYIC-qfwM8U333to14Ln12bRRakR5RjbtZj1CZ9mTBKHMgVIvmrg-3KnSle0s4bSFx9SffiVI09jof8Ls9fE1k/s320/wintergarden2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Here's a view of our Long Border. I admit to yanking a few deceased annuals from its ranks and I think Bob chopped down a couple of Eupatorium (Joe Pye Weed) stalks that had fallen over, but it's pretty much left to it's own devices until next early spring. I always allowed for a certain gardening laziness that creeps over me by late summer. Early September finds me shrugging and suggesting it's too late to prop things up or edit and reorganize. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ4hrk_4fF4z3aMTc56G6kJaYkvhDpttdz1CT4ACXO5jMuplVQ7s3uIdF6-nfih8bGQG9MhAgoznm6VlFow_qaKJaQcM4iaAfd9q9ZTUSjh5jw2GpXcxW8TGkwL3-Yc0PlG5rKg8yS4I1I_sOu0FQJ0Hwktmj0AGvA9NDuWmhIogZTA6UjwjrgilXI4dk/s936/wintergarden4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ4hrk_4fF4z3aMTc56G6kJaYkvhDpttdz1CT4ACXO5jMuplVQ7s3uIdF6-nfih8bGQG9MhAgoznm6VlFow_qaKJaQcM4iaAfd9q9ZTUSjh5jw2GpXcxW8TGkwL3-Yc0PlG5rKg8yS4I1I_sOu0FQJ0Hwktmj0AGvA9NDuWmhIogZTA6UjwjrgilXI4dk/s320/wintergarden4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Yup! That's me casting a long shadow on a kind of unsightly aster clump (the cultivar "Purple Dome" a half tall variety.) And while I admit to an unwillingness to walk back to the house and get pruners to remove the desiccated remains I also suspected that the seeds were possibly good food for birds. And I was right!<div>I just read an article in <a href="http://www.conngardener.com">The Connecticut Gardener</a> (#1) that confirmed my thoughts and applauded my laziness. The authors of the article in question averred that insects (hopefully beneficial) nest in the hollow stems and birds do indeed feed on seeds left behind. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4S4sUSAD60jq3b5vU1nQEC7SGW72OiNVi8DdPIzO1vA5IzWXj1MjQ6FPbmF-3oXOXi5TxdOkKG3ISJ9oFif9o4hJeqTogeWTo2JdcJBrw1M-oyrKiq3x9RlI8RsIZD1bYT846PhabdRxXg7rpN93DNpJsAjx6Kiw9Ey1iSEfhmzbKkjp8xCmzC9DYoU/s936/wintergarden1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4S4sUSAD60jq3b5vU1nQEC7SGW72OiNVi8DdPIzO1vA5IzWXj1MjQ6FPbmF-3oXOXi5TxdOkKG3ISJ9oFif9o4hJeqTogeWTo2JdcJBrw1M-oyrKiq3x9RlI8RsIZD1bYT846PhabdRxXg7rpN93DNpJsAjx6Kiw9Ey1iSEfhmzbKkjp8xCmzC9DYoU/s320/wintergarden1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>(This grass (Miscanthus sinensis) makes me look tiny; it IS tall and the inflorescenses look good all winter- until an ice storm beats them down!) So I've been vindicated in my waiting 'til next spring to clean up. Yes, sometimes when we get a warm February day, Robin the Good and I get out and start cutting down things that look particulary rough. Some plants don't age gracefully!<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8EKeVlQKEgdG2Tn_D-es3h0iIgmqSqaV1B4wxmryM5Xiv_qnXHAdenCyiZjsBYw2bfE_1h6Bd62IO0jPFLOSVawJzVV5MBngJ_CVx-bJz4SvTPPNDR0ZdnxnlTRJYsA6ZBTfGAartz3CQzBXWI-Z7EMNOJwZZJlEY46rmKjr13jNaaSwkE1oH8r6b44/s936/wintergarden3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8EKeVlQKEgdG2Tn_D-es3h0iIgmqSqaV1B4wxmryM5Xiv_qnXHAdenCyiZjsBYw2bfE_1h6Bd62IO0jPFLOSVawJzVV5MBngJ_CVx-bJz4SvTPPNDR0ZdnxnlTRJYsA6ZBTfGAartz3CQzBXWI-Z7EMNOJwZZJlEY46rmKjr13jNaaSwkE1oH8r6b44/s320/wintergarden3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Here's another very poofy grass; I think this is one looks rather nice with the late day sunlight hitting the tufts. So... lesson learned: don't be in such a big fat rush to tidy up. There's plenty of time ahead to do that and the birds and bees will thank you!</div><div><br /></div><div>(*1) <u>The Connecticut Gardener</u> is a really good resouce for all manner of garden information. Please consider subscribing! And I don't just say that becasue I write the occasional column for it!!<br /><div><br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-59527193718809509982023-12-03T14:08:00.000-08:002023-12-03T14:08:29.068-08:00In Praise of Robin<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTjTZ7ZXLANCz5rkOUkGtO5Q3MJQBFJsTbaIGG1OamhVv-anv2aengzzjnpWhypiyaZ-mHA4ippHaqE-IFuqwKz20g4c5hGD3rjKT4x6ZoX1UGryAINsVDXWV5TOfv2-VxMibrlJ4V52bEsT9QNjlyUDs0weBmva5gnzcz0eRC-hw51FRWRrvDPiF4Yjs/s1008/robin1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="756" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTjTZ7ZXLANCz5rkOUkGtO5Q3MJQBFJsTbaIGG1OamhVv-anv2aengzzjnpWhypiyaZ-mHA4ippHaqE-IFuqwKz20g4c5hGD3rjKT4x6ZoX1UGryAINsVDXWV5TOfv2-VxMibrlJ4V52bEsT9QNjlyUDs0weBmva5gnzcz0eRC-hw51FRWRrvDPiF4Yjs/s320/robin1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>A post to toast our little princess of a doggo, Robin the Good! A true gem of a dog... except not always.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpDn63JwEbnzjMAj0zx_ctRR3jxWfq6efwcUwjLgxKgADWNc4o-G3x1S7q4Xk7kb_6obgK2qmb28wV8IBBlDUMWW06hOm0JxIn4vNvW8XrXT_j3M8NJrDwfjxK10UURV1Ul1-Rc7r4ZrZG6zfsyKZUCVRRycNN2XAOPwEDy0qOBP2w6zPtRv2A8e3lAk/s943/emptyplate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="943" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpDn63JwEbnzjMAj0zx_ctRR3jxWfq6efwcUwjLgxKgADWNc4o-G3x1S7q4Xk7kb_6obgK2qmb28wV8IBBlDUMWW06hOm0JxIn4vNvW8XrXT_j3M8NJrDwfjxK10UURV1Ul1-Rc7r4ZrZG6zfsyKZUCVRRycNN2XAOPwEDy0qOBP2w6zPtRv2A8e3lAk/s320/emptyplate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>I'll give you three guesses as to why that plate is empty. Yes, our little angel decided to remove the four (!!) slices of rye bread (seedless) that were thawing on that plate. Turn your back for one minute; she made quick work of the bread! Not a crumb left and Robin looking so innocent. She "selected" a half a sandwich from another plate a few months ago. I thought I was losing my marbles. I walked from room to room considering where I might have left my 1/2 eaten lunch. It finally dawned on me that Robin was looking very pleased with herself. (*1)</div><div>But how can you resist Robin? Look at that face!</div><div>Here she is comtemplating the chunk of wood that is on her blanket:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6O9SHQBS8L2Xdb-JXyYI6oCbOGb990qbk5pB8kzbjuXE4YmnCQjZsc8GIZeyAP_5INnviw2l8Eb6XLcHY3iaS0c4ZgqwL7nHjpB7WhyphenhyphenRa9C_NUFfNzPq__UTmzuscqJGGx9BheTaB_IxOibzkE0uXIxIRNxNzPNm6I3ep3cMiY7Hr5t7xCg1hZcv8Brg/s960/robin2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6O9SHQBS8L2Xdb-JXyYI6oCbOGb990qbk5pB8kzbjuXE4YmnCQjZsc8GIZeyAP_5INnviw2l8Eb6XLcHY3iaS0c4ZgqwL7nHjpB7WhyphenhyphenRa9C_NUFfNzPq__UTmzuscqJGGx9BheTaB_IxOibzkE0uXIxIRNxNzPNm6I3ep3cMiY7Hr5t7xCg1hZcv8Brg/s320/robin2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div>Hey! She picked it out! I'm constantly providing enrichment in the form of toys, Kongs and bones but no! She wanted a chunk of wood. Poor Robin! Neglected, innored and unloved! <div>Hahahhahahaha!! She has it made. Two college-educated, unpaid servants that dote on her and see to her every whim and need! Would we could all live such a wonderful, stress-free existence. I'd come back as my dog in a future incarnation!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmU4n-yJJBUbaNqCtdcRJMWvkduRg60abN970SI-ylkHhWqHvtZ2172LqvWAePTSvVm6GgzWyeWYviys2ddr7Zl36M6q1fiV0l4LTvJwaDsZkq4lCLtEWeNHOKRW_DnMOMrcF5HHfvyiJiah21U0kMq2d9-k1Ty2uzRNyr2EwqwPGaVt6C9or-DQI2h0/s1659/robin6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1659" data-original-width="1071" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmU4n-yJJBUbaNqCtdcRJMWvkduRg60abN970SI-ylkHhWqHvtZ2172LqvWAePTSvVm6GgzWyeWYviys2ddr7Zl36M6q1fiV0l4LTvJwaDsZkq4lCLtEWeNHOKRW_DnMOMrcF5HHfvyiJiah21U0kMq2d9-k1Ty2uzRNyr2EwqwPGaVt6C9or-DQI2h0/s320/robin6.jpg" width="207" /></a></div><br /><div>See? She's laughing at me!</div><div><br /><div>(*1) And need I remind anyone that Robin stole six eclairs of the picnic table... eclairs destined for a friend's stomach, not Robins.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-16218585881095661522023-11-22T05:46:00.000-08:002023-11-22T05:46:16.730-08:00Thanksgiving Preparations<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKoH1lDYgPQGn-72ZzZSBJSD0q8wQnFbwDUgL3L7gWwIOAPtGbMILeH0_T5x6BY5SbAVavR3lwfp9VhZckCw9P439LWz-503G0H61FNjJHZXnqpyZ_3xGMBjc6bmL0FIMO8hUQyuX6F-zYeDB0C521lv_VssHRCnw8EtJMKASQ-Au1QxH_bwgVZcV7JAM/s960/turkey1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKoH1lDYgPQGn-72ZzZSBJSD0q8wQnFbwDUgL3L7gWwIOAPtGbMILeH0_T5x6BY5SbAVavR3lwfp9VhZckCw9P439LWz-503G0H61FNjJHZXnqpyZ_3xGMBjc6bmL0FIMO8hUQyuX6F-zYeDB0C521lv_VssHRCnw8EtJMKASQ-Au1QxH_bwgVZcV7JAM/s320/turkey1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Well Mommy's famous (and quite fabulous!) turkey head is waiting for a pineapple. In the meantime, the handbag that Bob fashioned for me from a log will do nicely! I think my sister Cathy said she's providing the pineapple... (*1)</p><p>So here are a couple of helpful suggestions to make your holiday entertaining that much easier. First off, don't clean the house too early. Like I'm talking wait until the last minute if possible.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdaG_GyC6MjkY09S3W-jaivT_69wB7z05l79X3YYGYWu8_qv5Hw-Vyb1dvGzd2xfLSIaylFLAIkz3QmxyNjetrXnJGjy_3whISHYjRVZeceHoRoRN4QkbRDsJza8L4yZIZSd02HUGknrtp9FjpA7Tm6R258bOndPPlrcHw_PfgoPePpFuIfgalCZPsjg/s960/turkey2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdaG_GyC6MjkY09S3W-jaivT_69wB7z05l79X3YYGYWu8_qv5Hw-Vyb1dvGzd2xfLSIaylFLAIkz3QmxyNjetrXnJGjy_3whISHYjRVZeceHoRoRN4QkbRDsJza8L4yZIZSd02HUGknrtp9FjpA7Tm6R258bOndPPlrcHw_PfgoPePpFuIfgalCZPsjg/s320/turkey2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Case in point: this floor was clean... maybe yesterday? But we're heavy traffic: bringing in autumn leaves and general dirt on our boots type people so I learned the hard way to clean at the last minute or have to do it all over. Hell! I've got more important things to do with my time! (Like play outside and track in more dirt!) (*2)</p><p>And here's another tip: no matter what they tell you on the packaging or the Internet, your frozen turkey will still be frozen after many days of refrigerator thawing!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzuAcvF_UM8dun9s5UPhBMf741j689dEVY9W2qw2aidxUGo5QKXzXJ31T7TrPIvzcOmP4N5OKn07YxQ8bHlRGeNFmETrh39D6Tp1Utvo3K-pMOo-18AUsVN43UtRxmTSU1tt3WJs7titmE8VBPvoBvQSkMgqjaKdx3ilLmX96bXjPuV8c_h91ov9nBYQ/s960/turkey3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzuAcvF_UM8dun9s5UPhBMf741j689dEVY9W2qw2aidxUGo5QKXzXJ31T7TrPIvzcOmP4N5OKn07YxQ8bHlRGeNFmETrh39D6Tp1Utvo3K-pMOo-18AUsVN43UtRxmTSU1tt3WJs7titmE8VBPvoBvQSkMgqjaKdx3ilLmX96bXjPuV8c_h91ov9nBYQ/s320/turkey3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Here's Bob attempting to wrestle guts from our 13 pound friend. What do you do when you get one of those 20 pound behemoths?!?! Anyway, I'm certain that tragedy will be averted, the bird will thaw and a lovely golden brown turkey will grace the table tomorrow. But now I have to go clean!!</p><p><br /></p><p>(*1) I sorta forgot to buy one, along with dish soap. Yes, several trips to various stores and I forgot. I guess we'll have to dine on dirty platters and grubby, reused stemware! The horrors!</p><p>(*2) Similar to the time I bought and wrapped a birthday present for a friend. Several months passed before seeing this friend, in which time the wrapping paper was a crumpled, dirty mess and I had to re-wrap it. </p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-82253046226357025452023-11-08T05:39:00.000-08:002023-11-08T05:39:33.856-08:00Leaves and Other Things That Fall From the Sky<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYNZEPCbE6aH25JTkr2horNMNnXjlrAheRUaRkJCxNlMoNovKYYfxzrmVGrPzjDauHX4h4PNkXtC9vtkMT6DV6pvgfRRxi9WLUjBKDbtMvumjCw7uZYwhQpeWQAymZV27GLII7ZigBl4xKStuCulQL1ecS2mGZEzJnxhyoiiWX9Rj2QFdxT-l0z7Ot80/s960/leaves1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYNZEPCbE6aH25JTkr2horNMNnXjlrAheRUaRkJCxNlMoNovKYYfxzrmVGrPzjDauHX4h4PNkXtC9vtkMT6DV6pvgfRRxi9WLUjBKDbtMvumjCw7uZYwhQpeWQAymZV27GLII7ZigBl4xKStuCulQL1ecS2mGZEzJnxhyoiiWX9Rj2QFdxT-l0z7Ot80/s320/leaves1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Yup. That's a whole lotta leaves! And they're not in the woods; they're in the horse field so they need removal as they simply pile up and kill whatever grass is underneath. Additionally, they're really slippery if I chose to ride my intrepid steed in the lower field. Here is Neko- my leaf colored horse:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmOnycHfbUrWC7ETDZByzh6d-1cQl-FTnBLOgBNpk2sO6-IBCz4170yzKuOrYCiaYb6DAXvEKX30w5SQbZSz1zm8ox4X7VqPlEbH3Z0J1wP5WtVX5yR61Twp7isUDqY1ECGbZAKcUl_OiRGiDPStV30D63US1ERnh_p99dlKNrWrdpMAC8wizcqf7dzk/s960/leavesneko.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmOnycHfbUrWC7ETDZByzh6d-1cQl-FTnBLOgBNpk2sO6-IBCz4170yzKuOrYCiaYb6DAXvEKX30w5SQbZSz1zm8ox4X7VqPlEbH3Z0J1wP5WtVX5yR61Twp7isUDqY1ECGbZAKcUl_OiRGiDPStV30D63US1ERnh_p99dlKNrWrdpMAC8wizcqf7dzk/s320/leavesneko.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Neko isn't concerned with much of anything besides eating, but she can't eat oak leaves, so rake them I will! I make numerous piles like this:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-PHKc0cqaw6EQEBX19gVDCNGKzPXPDNgavpoinJl0UjxYVXydqQJvgvuyRg2XSsyHcGB-TERf9cIgp3VTQf_ovP31rKlo0w0WeDSBQfRoI3bjvpKOftLsVJJ9_GI7jnOiEq4NQUe-dgm-8eVMACawTlfJlKXMcp8F525szkd0iTjZXHkwQ3-p_yzdO0/s960/leaves2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-PHKc0cqaw6EQEBX19gVDCNGKzPXPDNgavpoinJl0UjxYVXydqQJvgvuyRg2XSsyHcGB-TERf9cIgp3VTQf_ovP31rKlo0w0WeDSBQfRoI3bjvpKOftLsVJJ9_GI7jnOiEq4NQUe-dgm-8eVMACawTlfJlKXMcp8F525szkd0iTjZXHkwQ3-p_yzdO0/s320/leaves2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Put them on a tarp and then haul 'em away to the woods. I cannot even count how many piles I've hauled away so far but I figure if I drag four or five piles a day, I should be done by next year. Endless!!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9tpCg2U5MKhXxRA0SX_Era95_9pR3F0x3rcgN2MP-KOwUPBwasc_c6glQBsjxwXv8_NwjLZIltWKVg8DWTiDVjSzjMWEpAg-TNi0CmAH0w2nmTA6YS0yifdoeAOBEH5e-OwNnbMZj7n079w2i6Y3WeTg2PFv6OTkNqJsGD-KWm3v9yf9Kie-ZUVY2no/s1008/robinsm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="631" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9tpCg2U5MKhXxRA0SX_Era95_9pR3F0x3rcgN2MP-KOwUPBwasc_c6glQBsjxwXv8_NwjLZIltWKVg8DWTiDVjSzjMWEpAg-TNi0CmAH0w2nmTA6YS0yifdoeAOBEH5e-OwNnbMZj7n079w2i6Y3WeTg2PFv6OTkNqJsGD-KWm3v9yf9Kie-ZUVY2no/s320/robinsm.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p>Robin supervises. She thinks autumn leaves are awesome and enjoys chasing the leaves as they blow around the yard. (She also enjoys chasing shadows of birds which is pretty funny because she's running around, nose to ground, as the birds fly overhead.) </p><p>The other thing that falls from the sky is meteorites! Last week Thursday, there was apaprenly a meteorite that traversed southern New England, passed over Long Island and landed in the Atlantic. Sorry to have missed that! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAT2boDTmWTu6ZECcb8Pha5YtMX30_MGZzUr4xl0Fy2wcZzeDxvkAYh6MQoW1LiYoym_zgy3zqUpTLfDjHYaKnvxfqx1mccPOec6E5aTSkfjSA1CtdchEPx0Tf3PYggbsmXVAT_40hH-ZPdMfXptNdMqXcLW5ckglgOZFU9Eeh_kk-7s8kWML67JvwHpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="640" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAT2boDTmWTu6ZECcb8Pha5YtMX30_MGZzUr4xl0Fy2wcZzeDxvkAYh6MQoW1LiYoym_zgy3zqUpTLfDjHYaKnvxfqx1mccPOec6E5aTSkfjSA1CtdchEPx0Tf3PYggbsmXVAT_40hH-ZPdMfXptNdMqXcLW5ckglgOZFU9Eeh_kk-7s8kWML67JvwHpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />(That is an actual photo that someone took.) We were coming back, oblivious on the train from New York, tired from our lovely trip to Tribeca and overloading on art viewing. We saw all kinds of wonderful, thought-provoking thing but nt that danged meteorite. Maybe next time!<p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-76813213853918811122023-11-01T06:13:00.001-07:002023-11-01T06:13:48.527-07:00Waiting for That First Frost!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LWKAf8zb_DoriDVAzr8SW-yM0Nw982yqwSEoiF3XOr4JmRcegrKwERhoPh9d1UZYndrolOKWAUTMZsksJnZYVt05ISgx7e1TKtKYxAop0spWj1fEnRsVP-vY4I8jd_VVsoQ706Ay_zXMPwjYMEfspH0Js_5ePwMTSga9AZG4eqobtDAFnLIqBjTlOIM/s960/foliage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LWKAf8zb_DoriDVAzr8SW-yM0Nw982yqwSEoiF3XOr4JmRcegrKwERhoPh9d1UZYndrolOKWAUTMZsksJnZYVt05ISgx7e1TKtKYxAop0spWj1fEnRsVP-vY4I8jd_VVsoQ706Ay_zXMPwjYMEfspH0Js_5ePwMTSga9AZG4eqobtDAFnLIqBjTlOIM/s320/foliage2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> Uh... we're still awaiting that first frost. Which means we're still waiting to celebrate our non-anniversary! The colors have finally started turning but we're as confused as the plant kingdom that there has been no frost and it's November 1st! The basil plants have long since sputtered out- as have many of the tender annuals, but it's not due to freezing temperatures. They're all just giving up the ghost from such a protracted growing season...<p></p><p>This is the latest our non-anniversary has ever been. And we're anticipating celebrating as it's a big one: 35 years of uninterupted fun and foolishness. We're venturing into NYC tomorrow to see art and sorta-celebrate as it is promising to be cold enough to frost over night.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPQ8jyuWWh2Iir_Q0i9D7aLrWjvWUOpBK9-2wvO6cagx_oh1x0g9I749ZS8IhzfHOgsY1Q8PPo3L9XslBeVbg-fFq5prEKyNh-2SEkZVgaNID9wFplOC_r7aWqDC8Nj4vUe-sV1IkJUlp8fIyp0cPX8Pj4BL6gWGzSL5Ef0oomUHn_77UxjWPvVG-38s/s936/foliage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="840" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPQ8jyuWWh2Iir_Q0i9D7aLrWjvWUOpBK9-2wvO6cagx_oh1x0g9I749ZS8IhzfHOgsY1Q8PPo3L9XslBeVbg-fFq5prEKyNh-2SEkZVgaNID9wFplOC_r7aWqDC8Nj4vUe-sV1IkJUlp8fIyp0cPX8Pj4BL6gWGzSL5Ef0oomUHn_77UxjWPvVG-38s/s320/foliage.jpg" width="287" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Great color, right? The blue grey of the spruce "Blue Star" is a spectacular back drop for the splendid crimson of (yes) poison ivy leaves. We are so fortunate to have poison ivy featured throughout our Blue Garden! Somehow, I avoided getting a poison ivy rash this year, and it wasn't for lack of trying! I've become crazy enough that I sometimes just grab it bare-handed and tear it out. I have always maintained the element of surprise prevents infection. (Delusional much?)<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYEP05wzAUkUsdDPEHSggJ1jcKMVS_DAfQqQauMyL7XMMTfNpeyH_0inBz64Oj5pkXt4r0HLJQBfmpr4weyexZMZW4MAgP_OhHd5jPu1Lcs0ST97WS4wMdnaMj2J6GL0XPf2nQWjkUgwhRMplqvJjIh_jMyAprtxZEVRB-ipDDCRi3yr0FNn0Olwh7ks/s960/shroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYEP05wzAUkUsdDPEHSggJ1jcKMVS_DAfQqQauMyL7XMMTfNpeyH_0inBz64Oj5pkXt4r0HLJQBfmpr4weyexZMZW4MAgP_OhHd5jPu1Lcs0ST97WS4wMdnaMj2J6GL0XPf2nQWjkUgwhRMplqvJjIh_jMyAprtxZEVRB-ipDDCRi3yr0FNn0Olwh7ks/s320/shroom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>And here's a whopper! This blob-like mushroom decided to begin growing right through a section of fence. I'm glad I caught it in the act as with many fungi, it melted away soon after. A wet fall presents it's own fascinating life forms. We're sure to experience at least a few "fascinating life forms" tomorrow as New York never disappoints!<br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-43564049626198881112023-10-16T08:56:00.003-07:002023-10-16T08:56:57.834-07:00Autumn Already<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw4DQM25vG9HpWHDqmgnQ7yyexZMrsAVI6k3fSuME8b8Yp3NBBHQfA9mdiqperHsjwjqqVC3DIIzxAWpqznPQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Wet! Wet! Wet! We have had soooo much rain! Our stream became a crazy intractable torrent an dthreatened to dislodge our bridges. It's subsided now but the wet summer into fall as caused our maples leaves to drop without even changing color.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's a still shot of our typically tractable stream in full explosion mode:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZkugl3omrtDvvfN_VLnRb9ecleFA9_OjkP5tLTF4805zJGr8TfxcdzSBbehGzGahxM6ymPcpnksEl4Mrpv0nCOd9fmIANrIQVqVjup_k1IF65Rl0LQ4OowuzVrqQKpyJ77fD1fosIxzeuVHQ-depks3QCUlPr3kKnpYJpz40hXcuml3GSZC8dXK_Tj0/s1248/stream2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="1248" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZkugl3omrtDvvfN_VLnRb9ecleFA9_OjkP5tLTF4805zJGr8TfxcdzSBbehGzGahxM6ymPcpnksEl4Mrpv0nCOd9fmIANrIQVqVjup_k1IF65Rl0LQ4OowuzVrqQKpyJ77fD1fosIxzeuVHQ-depks3QCUlPr3kKnpYJpz40hXcuml3GSZC8dXK_Tj0/s320/stream2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pretty impressive! Too bad we don't have hydroelectric capability; we could certainly generate power to the house with this voulume of water.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here are two lawn chairs that I think we sat in... once? twice? Not often. I just put the cushions away. It was either too hot or it was rainy. We chose to sit on the terrace in our other chairs and attempt to hide from the bugs, which loved the wet weather and came calling with atypical frequency.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTEPHY3u8akoZIY4hxtN-xOuE1WwqnBB4EM4w0ZX1qgEzbA49zh-BzbaElouUQvn8bysVzHfcWlK32zwsOCnErLcRC8tq7nkH13K2xTQ0lh_3WiO_INYAi7qNlk6dO9tT2NqKFhXMnXefxNgMCYDbZNafg3t-2fo0wl0fMvfplBEf2Nx_m10DDJGCWU4/s936/lawnchairs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTEPHY3u8akoZIY4hxtN-xOuE1WwqnBB4EM4w0ZX1qgEzbA49zh-BzbaElouUQvn8bysVzHfcWlK32zwsOCnErLcRC8tq7nkH13K2xTQ0lh_3WiO_INYAi7qNlk6dO9tT2NqKFhXMnXefxNgMCYDbZNafg3t-2fo0wl0fMvfplBEf2Nx_m10DDJGCWU4/s320/lawnchairs.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>See our big maple past the wood pile? Not many leaves left and they never turned golden like they usually do. This is true all around us and up through Massachusetts, where we recently took a field trip. Not much foliage to gawk, even further north.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULqwwGptKtu-KJdnw2PpUcIKJKXKI5CxTn2tL3orHg8Z3lsvQdWfa2RP_rYUGVg3Y7ZwMZp4gHsJVlff1Uy47QOnUCtjHuNgxX4IlFCdDNmFkb9d8hmx3lK5EY2K52q9YOUYAlVpQMexIOVyIAg9ICUwdWgYoNFyE0zTEwuTMSd1X8geKpZqnsoXaG3g/s943/fairyring1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="943" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULqwwGptKtu-KJdnw2PpUcIKJKXKI5CxTn2tL3orHg8Z3lsvQdWfa2RP_rYUGVg3Y7ZwMZp4gHsJVlff1Uy47QOnUCtjHuNgxX4IlFCdDNmFkb9d8hmx3lK5EY2K52q9YOUYAlVpQMexIOVyIAg9ICUwdWgYoNFyE0zTEwuTMSd1X8geKpZqnsoXaG3g/s320/fairyring1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Some impressive fairy rings appeared on the lawn as the dew has been very heavy. That's cool but I just don't feel ready for fall into winter quite yet. Yes, our "non-anniversay" will happen (35 years!!!!) but that signals frost and then ice and snow and sleet and horrors! Cold weather!</div><div>I think the world being in such a terrible mess (*1) that the approach of shortened days and winter seems even gloomier. Maybe I'll hibernate this year. Just remember to wake me up in spring!</div><div><br /></div><div>(*1) Don't get me started... really. Just stop now while we're ahead.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></blockquote><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-47966985540284883032023-09-25T05:33:00.036-07:002023-09-25T07:09:30.774-07:00From Art Fair to Animal Fair<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNC-M3yG2TcEq5JbMmuPKqis4aaverU_rOn86-rYFI3RDa4YYC02KrE6Z7udreOI7wsL5aiIftOwG_-JcAGs9uZW5BT8PeiO0jpIJFFXUls2EZ7C7w7JBks_2BMbm16tuU1pvaSaiu7BaEJcRLGH6Dc7a5mWM43T6zlJFCPFQPb-b6Q8OkkQ5o-W0Bkdo/s1056/wtfroom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="792" data-original-width="1056" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNC-M3yG2TcEq5JbMmuPKqis4aaverU_rOn86-rYFI3RDa4YYC02KrE6Z7udreOI7wsL5aiIftOwG_-JcAGs9uZW5BT8PeiO0jpIJFFXUls2EZ7C7w7JBks_2BMbm16tuU1pvaSaiu7BaEJcRLGH6Dc7a5mWM43T6zlJFCPFQPb-b6Q8OkkQ5o-W0Bkdo/s320/wtfroom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Here I am, chillin' in my WTF Studio after a crazy time participating in Spring/Break Art Show. Hoo Boy! Tiring? Yes! I spent one day after visiting Spring/Break simply laying in bed recovering. I must have talked to a million and three artists and curators and gallerists and randos and friends... and everybody is looking for something (to quote The Eurythmics). Artists want shows and sales. Curators want shows and sales. Collectors (the few there are!) want bargains... But it was good clean, exhausting fun! Maybe do it all over again next year?</p><div>And here's a few things I saw- and really liked!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaMWliC5Zk7ngFnQtJFnmBogj8-k1_YDuvwIkphz2WJJShqfkJ7U3sXolPV-sbYqz8-J7PGzoEPhBhsGz0dGKjRjt31pGrFYVwWXEXFmcBEWXvJPkBLJbDa3ch8ff5Xn_2EbD4aLcQKcle8CDAZSbc9mwpcDVi7CdFyYsLeeHwvqdMG41VREB92BOW2A4/s864/artfair3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaMWliC5Zk7ngFnQtJFnmBogj8-k1_YDuvwIkphz2WJJShqfkJ7U3sXolPV-sbYqz8-J7PGzoEPhBhsGz0dGKjRjt31pGrFYVwWXEXFmcBEWXvJPkBLJbDa3ch8ff5Xn_2EbD4aLcQKcle8CDAZSbc9mwpcDVi7CdFyYsLeeHwvqdMG41VREB92BOW2A4/s320/artfair3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>And...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGb4WVDohgiTnruPVTx2kw2iBNyVSKVb0U3MKNq18uBL0_WuVagewRLh1CJNAVLJ2MHj__7LwrkB6QhnQGay4ijO5rx7ICeQMpdt_WVxe-vagmbD1zjxSfk4CI6svE09R0xUKOewaktgWyv-EkA5DXV9f8qVtyBlxMk1dUD_8o3FnCh5lU_TE7n4Jw0o/s864/artfari2..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGb4WVDohgiTnruPVTx2kw2iBNyVSKVb0U3MKNq18uBL0_WuVagewRLh1CJNAVLJ2MHj__7LwrkB6QhnQGay4ijO5rx7ICeQMpdt_WVxe-vagmbD1zjxSfk4CI6svE09R0xUKOewaktgWyv-EkA5DXV9f8qVtyBlxMk1dUD_8o3FnCh5lU_TE7n4Jw0o/s320/artfari2..jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>And...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9AT5EiCitdKxc3c00EWakc9b0i-nul9Ic6k24p2OLQwAvOy4DyVMMkEMF2HgMSw9rbHTBiOQOl_RXvqr942LIqa2d0OM1u50OB4kecGFPSQTK8uRgsJQnLVjeHueYPwtvkXjXh51831taV8f2RtPWm46zxCL5OeWeB3ROfkN9m3K7T9FDLZ1BeyogEA/s864/artfair1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9AT5EiCitdKxc3c00EWakc9b0i-nul9Ic6k24p2OLQwAvOy4DyVMMkEMF2HgMSw9rbHTBiOQOl_RXvqr942LIqa2d0OM1u50OB4kecGFPSQTK8uRgsJQnLVjeHueYPwtvkXjXh51831taV8f2RtPWm46zxCL5OeWeB3ROfkN9m3K7T9FDLZ1BeyogEA/s320/artfair1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Hey! Those look familiar! Yep, that's my addition to the art fair. And they had a fabulous view out the window, up East 58th Street...</div><div>And we transition-<br /><div><br /><p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBpfyQihDAHjV-BPSlXiPUBTpL_0p65EqhsANRnfEPSUMPs4SKFFE2ugOeIOmSnoQpqO4ZgwiWln0gy8KJJOCHKBIdSKxiZOdUiOwRvXlkWc2eOqxU24L7jtdBVxcFHt53t8TVH8u7pqyaicltncwpaFHABYjJkvtEocNeWRkL-603O2twQfCw2oSUTnQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="526" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBpfyQihDAHjV-BPSlXiPUBTpL_0p65EqhsANRnfEPSUMPs4SKFFE2ugOeIOmSnoQpqO4ZgwiWln0gy8KJJOCHKBIdSKxiZOdUiOwRvXlkWc2eOqxU24L7jtdBVxcFHt53t8TVH8u7pqyaicltncwpaFHABYjJkvtEocNeWRkL-603O2twQfCw2oSUTnQ" width="180" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Here's me and Bob at the Durham Fair, picture taken by my sister Cathy. We had loads of fun. We ate, we saw odd chickens with fluffy heads, that scary Egyptian pharoah ride, lots of emus and alpacas! I still didn't get my fried dough- probably a good thing as it's not exactly health food! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBdFdj4IyVHfE89UxfV40ni0nmCZBaW_d448sM8zJoz-BvkGq__DUe1Tgidex0RlMYEnPWjWZjD0v0ynA-cuMXhRFguPo_G-EYFwEg3mQPXvHLGW9XulzUET-n1aZD7wS4XG_PoYSM0mNV8qATY_L4xfemxzqjbeeMGie7QdPDxb3UeizcIFH8LyJFf0/s864/fair2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBdFdj4IyVHfE89UxfV40ni0nmCZBaW_d448sM8zJoz-BvkGq__DUe1Tgidex0RlMYEnPWjWZjD0v0ynA-cuMXhRFguPo_G-EYFwEg3mQPXvHLGW9XulzUET-n1aZD7wS4XG_PoYSM0mNV8qATY_L4xfemxzqjbeeMGie7QdPDxb3UeizcIFH8LyJFf0/s320/fair2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>That's sister Cathy chowing down on a gyro at the fair. She begged me to take this picture as it was a sloppy (but delicious) mess and she entertained us with her table manners. We had pulled pork, rather sedate as opposed to her saucy sandwich roll!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2Hp08D4b97USNOaEzgqGlf2sxUuU-mIpvduWYcjZoI4bFiitJXtX5AW_2wzQ6lrw6ZBkA3s5FWdwVY4fBTA3vkBFYHtGq6Ag2b3q1aRoYHZnwnODdNKsXzuATVNFxB8FypENJU5gyrjSYTuDmMVnazJ9odpMoFK58iydw2wE2bncfAbnVChXHvyvb4Y/s864/fair3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2Hp08D4b97USNOaEzgqGlf2sxUuU-mIpvduWYcjZoI4bFiitJXtX5AW_2wzQ6lrw6ZBkA3s5FWdwVY4fBTA3vkBFYHtGq6Ag2b3q1aRoYHZnwnODdNKsXzuATVNFxB8FypENJU5gyrjSYTuDmMVnazJ9odpMoFK58iydw2wE2bncfAbnVChXHvyvb4Y/s320/fair3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>As promised- and alpaca! Quite the charming personality on this one. Although I fell for a tall brown alpaca who made serious eye contact with me. He wouldn't let me photgraph him but he was quite the looker.</div><div>And emus? Did I promise emus:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiwjkP0_Pv9lcM_VHVx815GH9Fr1mIZCHhSRFI1xJ1TI2FBKXWVyPLjQGk3htT387C_ymeJXBhIFH8IfOTBSDU6RQ7tU3alvBmy-r6jaNatweENIZzVpogkQlJYTL1w0ZZ8mMUgsUQVhCciB7frSIc5kuEu6gQEwh_gr_N7fhFDUwzG1EO-Ent6IG85I/s864/fair5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiwjkP0_Pv9lcM_VHVx815GH9Fr1mIZCHhSRFI1xJ1TI2FBKXWVyPLjQGk3htT387C_ymeJXBhIFH8IfOTBSDU6RQ7tU3alvBmy-r6jaNatweENIZzVpogkQlJYTL1w0ZZ8mMUgsUQVhCciB7frSIc5kuEu6gQEwh_gr_N7fhFDUwzG1EO-Ent6IG85I/s320/fair5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>These ones look two-headed from here! As we were enjoying the emu antics, a gentleman standing next to us remarked that emus are often raised for their meat; red meat in his words. We were happy when he moved off, as I'm sure the emus were. No one wants to be discussed as a potential meal while on display at the fair!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGr59GdeDryRnmD_mmtz7QtnKWnkIxdHZa40K7R4OUUY8fp3Chas4e6iZRr-FpSoD-hE0XKZGfDRSJd-E1YqcQrMqFu52WodDihe_Wr48w63VewiIx53mmCpbbTAOI4CbMujGaNYMHmRTt-YIiyHMfM_jKaXSyfNLppmKqzzXlIv9o9IaEjlNtGCyAN_0/s864/fair4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGr59GdeDryRnmD_mmtz7QtnKWnkIxdHZa40K7R4OUUY8fp3Chas4e6iZRr-FpSoD-hE0XKZGfDRSJd-E1YqcQrMqFu52WodDihe_Wr48w63VewiIx53mmCpbbTAOI4CbMujGaNYMHmRTt-YIiyHMfM_jKaXSyfNLppmKqzzXlIv9o9IaEjlNtGCyAN_0/s320/fair4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><div><div><br /></div><div>And, of course, a mandatory shot of the midway. (Not sure why it came out so dark as it was a pleasantly sunny day, with a light breeze and puffy clouds.) Also not sure why it doesn't look as packed as it was: REALLY crowded with so many willing victims. Willing to lose money on silly games with cheasy prizes and willing to throw up all that great fair food on terrifying rides that hurl you upside down and backwards. No thank you!</div><div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /></div></div></div></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-31800943203709595762023-08-31T06:46:00.001-07:002023-09-03T10:10:02.272-07:00Yes! Fence Me In!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0eKOf4Wk_yDevG3FQogyJ5sMCuC3j2o9qDj3v3k_2OV4TZ8w65QbczgnvCIONqUbQhpnCUazTCkEnyaB8R-K1-bme60raB42Esh5C3X0gikg26MRZo68rb-t_V5R_hvNp08ni03DDPBvn3N8gK7DsQz_5nQ_wAoCrasRIfN3HdMkcrXuRfjUuw_kYHs/s960/fence1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0eKOf4Wk_yDevG3FQogyJ5sMCuC3j2o9qDj3v3k_2OV4TZ8w65QbczgnvCIONqUbQhpnCUazTCkEnyaB8R-K1-bme60raB42Esh5C3X0gikg26MRZo68rb-t_V5R_hvNp08ni03DDPBvn3N8gK7DsQz_5nQ_wAoCrasRIfN3HdMkcrXuRfjUuw_kYHs/s320/fence1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Those of you have have visited us know that parts of the horse fence were in truly bad shape. The above section is (obviously) near the barn and shows the sad state of affairs. I had attempted to "fix" the fence by weaving together bits of chicken wire and metal poles... throw in some baling twine and you get a messy less than secure fence. A close up:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6L27pYo6VAooDAT5A8pv5IWAbh5F-J2YAF4_xGp9PpXI1e0cAG2DliaQl4oa27hokPmcieVuI6S4B-1i0qGE3SfHw6y0zauKXrUSDyo11elESbAPSWQXy6Al2wDNslIaqhsnxsWy2aP6RDhh6rxWuDDnU_a74mrcBTAG-lXXvcaITJxjjzNFH3X4X_R8/s960/fence2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6L27pYo6VAooDAT5A8pv5IWAbh5F-J2YAF4_xGp9PpXI1e0cAG2DliaQl4oa27hokPmcieVuI6S4B-1i0qGE3SfHw6y0zauKXrUSDyo11elESbAPSWQXy6Al2wDNslIaqhsnxsWy2aP6RDhh6rxWuDDnU_a74mrcBTAG-lXXvcaITJxjjzNFH3X4X_R8/s320/fence2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Somehow, it worked and kept Neko in. Or at least her body, as the fence is bent, spindled and mutilated because Neko was sticking her big fat neck and head over the fence to get the grass. Which we all know is greener on the other side. Anyway, this section was actually better (!!!) than other sections.<div><br /></div><div>We had bought the new fencing and the posts, but Bob had been busy so we kept waiting until one unusually quiet day, Bob said, "Let's do the fence." I quickly agreed and set to work removing all that old, nasty fencing. Oh course, Robin the Good had to remain in the house while this was going on, which made her very unhappy. She spent the next few hours howling in pathetic canine accompaniment, certain she was missing all the fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bob weed whacked the exposed fence line and set to work erecting new posts. I tamped the soil down after he dug the holes. Then we rolled out the new fencing.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6n0dWVB7gvZzcSY3QMSt2pdttMrnuG2BEttP_elPqNzkudma_2-wBmyl9WHl6JHzCELlbMgw8sK2puVQujNLAxUhcV_oiZXBxW9yub-MLDq_Ry2qVsolsjUXKVIPwL7g4yzW66PJwRnSpmeE7__ss8-3TdLOSIn542ltQafAOR5tfJe-TsYiypcaW5SQ/s960/fence3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6n0dWVB7gvZzcSY3QMSt2pdttMrnuG2BEttP_elPqNzkudma_2-wBmyl9WHl6JHzCELlbMgw8sK2puVQujNLAxUhcV_oiZXBxW9yub-MLDq_Ry2qVsolsjUXKVIPwL7g4yzW66PJwRnSpmeE7__ss8-3TdLOSIn542ltQafAOR5tfJe-TsYiypcaW5SQ/s320/fence3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>It all looks straight and shiny and new and effortless, but it did take us the better part of the day. There's Neko in the background, wondering why she can't get her head over any more. Hahahaha! Part of the reason is that I ran a second line and a third line of electric fence along the top on fiberglass poles so that it looks like San Quentin Prison, but she can't stick her head through. And it works!! Horse foiled again!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN57YOoEGQI9_R7PrS_zVyEgojTqscq5eq9rYTBc6xCWX8uyUPLy_lAylKu2KY_fa6BQe4Wd14WerYVMFfo29s3StgJ87vktrr8pXJIm6aCfmaDdeuauD1JGzHUyPQxrDfCWoB_NPCCMFeUOveIDPyzPgQrEqLCqsQmh2vqkIogDxywGcCWWWSgG6Ftok/s936/fence4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN57YOoEGQI9_R7PrS_zVyEgojTqscq5eq9rYTBc6xCWX8uyUPLy_lAylKu2KY_fa6BQe4Wd14WerYVMFfo29s3StgJ87vktrr8pXJIm6aCfmaDdeuauD1JGzHUyPQxrDfCWoB_NPCCMFeUOveIDPyzPgQrEqLCqsQmh2vqkIogDxywGcCWWWSgG6Ftok/s320/fence4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Better view by the large upper gate. So at least temporarily (until Neko figures out some other method to destroy the fence) everything is bright, shiny and new and secure. And thank goodness, our solar electric fence charger keeps blinking away.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Emsc4QXf8k-SpzYqdmNVJpL9X9_eFCwQuNUGAbcncSnREWnXEkHoAQDaM6MIS8DP-njOjVhcX97RMMT67vMZoHpmvT1o0QCRnyhReOIj_Yof9NAMvpPPIcMT_AOewiFxEIAiKn5HTffBpaP90n2fiUrDCyGYmGvbAtMq4HuzcHJ5zSq5SDm4lO47dQw/s936/fence5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Emsc4QXf8k-SpzYqdmNVJpL9X9_eFCwQuNUGAbcncSnREWnXEkHoAQDaM6MIS8DP-njOjVhcX97RMMT67vMZoHpmvT1o0QCRnyhReOIj_Yof9NAMvpPPIcMT_AOewiFxEIAiKn5HTffBpaP90n2fiUrDCyGYmGvbAtMq4HuzcHJ5zSq5SDm4lO47dQw/s320/fence5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>I know because I touched the hot wire twice recently. Works like a charm!<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><p><br /></p><p></p></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-39595749296811567952023-08-18T07:02:00.002-07:002023-08-18T07:06:32.591-07:00They're Gonna make A Big Star Outta Me!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-boaJnsgqxfmRHIaHUmLtx1hRLPxbpP1hET7JUvWflqtYvmIk7bcWaH5RVIVzdQwASE7OmSc0sZWsNDJHbnXZc9DztMR2r8I0nm8s0sbCZ4zzF897YpIuFb9mrqnBuDrMIRxo6sVqjBDZrghU2rVR3wY9f7pSPoNPDp-QnWFknNkG9UxKIlFaLeAeX3k/s1081/springbreak.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1081" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-boaJnsgqxfmRHIaHUmLtx1hRLPxbpP1hET7JUvWflqtYvmIk7bcWaH5RVIVzdQwASE7OmSc0sZWsNDJHbnXZc9DztMR2r8I0nm8s0sbCZ4zzF897YpIuFb9mrqnBuDrMIRxo6sVqjBDZrghU2rVR3wY9f7pSPoNPDp-QnWFknNkG9UxKIlFaLeAeX3k/s320/springbreak.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Hahahahhahhaha! Wouldn't that be nice? Well whether I become a big star or not, some of my artwork is going to The Spring/Break Art Show... and I'm going to go, too! This is the second time I've been selected to have my work presented so I'm doubly excited!!<div><br /></div><div>I have actually had several things to blog about, but this is the most exciting(*1) thing to happen directly to me. The fair is six days of non-stop art world thrills and fun. I was exhausted after the previous trip to Spring/Break; I have no idea how many people attended but believe me it was LOTS and I was hoarse for days after, having talked to what felt like each and every attendee.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am deeply indebted to The CAMP Galley (*2) for being soooo supportive and especially to Melanie for listening to me intone how she really should take some of her artists (ie; ME!!) to Spring/Break this year. I was like the proverbially squeaky wheel. But it worked!</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a link to check out some images from a previous year:</div><div><a href="https://www.springbreakartshow.com/">Spring/Break Art Show</a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I'm still reeling form the upcoming excitement. Be still my heart!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>(*1) Really?!?!? More exciting than the orange menace being indicted for the millionth time?!??! Well, that was a close second...<br /><p></p><p>(*2) The CAMP Gallery, or The Contemporary Art Modern Project.</p></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-39350294659166532112023-08-01T08:25:00.004-07:002023-08-01T08:29:47.166-07:00Adventures in the Shade Garden<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbmyAf-d8Usv5n7iDDoKLH4I1S50NkTJMCEc6T2K0qptRfAfTOnZkhVZKJZMF_-OQrJNdkepj6XgauXG8f1nr1HqxYIZbvLXz01wGBpYgzQBoXAetpeQDHxPMqljxfTFfughRzdIUGMZeFWNVOozP6Hzw_GPLKSmvALEhCHeYF5CsokYIT5iLFhzQtJc/s960/shade3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbmyAf-d8Usv5n7iDDoKLH4I1S50NkTJMCEc6T2K0qptRfAfTOnZkhVZKJZMF_-OQrJNdkepj6XgauXG8f1nr1HqxYIZbvLXz01wGBpYgzQBoXAetpeQDHxPMqljxfTFfughRzdIUGMZeFWNVOozP6Hzw_GPLKSmvALEhCHeYF5CsokYIT5iLFhzQtJc/s320/shade3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> Drat! I forgot to take a "before" picture! This area- while still looking kind of barren- was covered in poison ivy and woodland asters. Hey! I like woodland asters as much as the next native plant gardener but they were the only thing in this section of the shade border and were threatening to swamp the few little Hostas that lived there. Originally, I was going to re-do this are last summer but thanks to really hot, dry conditions (and a low well), I had to wait until this year.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvADFEcym80fX5WO5b6DVNZMaLjg7E_RysqyIEMTLR3_PreeNIkBwBJ5iqdlJzxCIXJQ_oBFF4nwPnRRuIQSBK19NKUqsid98k-h-EpeZG4WkYpAqlZCnE6tTieX6BBU9ycVG9-fHS0NbVc3Ddk7yde2CcF3b4Q1Ovi7CZIPKtRLjSqbcKSx3oc-HmgY/s960/shade7.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvADFEcym80fX5WO5b6DVNZMaLjg7E_RysqyIEMTLR3_PreeNIkBwBJ5iqdlJzxCIXJQ_oBFF4nwPnRRuIQSBK19NKUqsid98k-h-EpeZG4WkYpAqlZCnE6tTieX6BBU9ycVG9-fHS0NbVc3Ddk7yde2CcF3b4Q1Ovi7CZIPKtRLjSqbcKSx3oc-HmgY/s320/shade7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Fortunately, I actually had a selection of plant material (mostly Hostas *1) from previous birthday requests and plants that were scattered throughout the other areas of my garden so after I weeded and removed rocks, I was ready to transplant.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIKAUE_WPsoYHdXZwMwI99dzifdewq15FNA3xJqdCgIzsbs7o2xeCcal6m_iZMm29xP_5E7kh1ZwY86fKHMSK_2bap3Yp-ujcfEvzniDAL3ZuK03gVvRs_OpvrfY4nF3MsdvFFGoZRLBT_som6bFaX5safcnWIyl5idGtofjsEF6XJbjDb2RdeWq6JXI/s960/shade6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIKAUE_WPsoYHdXZwMwI99dzifdewq15FNA3xJqdCgIzsbs7o2xeCcal6m_iZMm29xP_5E7kh1ZwY86fKHMSK_2bap3Yp-ujcfEvzniDAL3ZuK03gVvRs_OpvrfY4nF3MsdvFFGoZRLBT_som6bFaX5safcnWIyl5idGtofjsEF6XJbjDb2RdeWq6JXI/s320/shade6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Yup! That's one of the more sizable individuals I wrestled from the ground! I dug up various lonely Hostas, divided others and started planting. I also moved several into the newly dubbed "Hosta-pital" behind the barn. These specimens need a bit of TLC!<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CYJq4NZEUemYN-IVSf_Dh8agmUqs-8kjwNsxiEFkC255iiMJ0a2TtBnPbLqULuv5WvKydwykvXHsNIWHW1hlqcRo_Osyo08yAHs6vC3ewwbZy6lYbBXivcM0960-3LO-qXllhx9V6YAuZ6ekIjGXg2Xajv_Dgv5bnrjgeyuTsLuD76CufB1scIpV_uc/s960/shade2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CYJq4NZEUemYN-IVSf_Dh8agmUqs-8kjwNsxiEFkC255iiMJ0a2TtBnPbLqULuv5WvKydwykvXHsNIWHW1hlqcRo_Osyo08yAHs6vC3ewwbZy6lYbBXivcM0960-3LO-qXllhx9V6YAuZ6ekIjGXg2Xajv_Dgv5bnrjgeyuTsLuD76CufB1scIpV_uc/s320/shade2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>I had a "Little Mouse Ears" that I easily divided into three, but they're going to the far end of the shade garden, which I'm also replanting. Little Mouse Ears had resided under the Sand Cherry that half-way died this spring. Suddenly, it was full sun and the Ears needed moving. Anyway they will all have a place in the Shade Border after recovering.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyB751hHqH1V6nEKZfooK2W2cxkbc6ot3mUMcR463w8CEqwR1y-rs3FNfsG_Xv2JJB0kXiQAITF2N3AZP1UxseiRc28BKlwjBFIKk0F4OVREB6HESu1-J7ZGUVS5BhF94rmvrGKRMSBlp2agdImV2lu_0y6a-_t3GUMC-W-0TccVGIAkAKS-AUf2wa-_s/s941/shade4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="941" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyB751hHqH1V6nEKZfooK2W2cxkbc6ot3mUMcR463w8CEqwR1y-rs3FNfsG_Xv2JJB0kXiQAITF2N3AZP1UxseiRc28BKlwjBFIKk0F4OVREB6HESu1-J7ZGUVS5BhF94rmvrGKRMSBlp2agdImV2lu_0y6a-_t3GUMC-W-0TccVGIAkAKS-AUf2wa-_s/s320/shade4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Further along, I planted Caladium to distract from all the weeds and mess in an area I haven't tackled yet. I will be the first to acknowledge that shade gardening doesn't come as naturally to me as full sun gardening. Shady gardens may be cooler to work in, but I sometimes get the willies as they tend to be moister and slimier and you can't always see what you're putting your hand into. Yick. But they also tend to take care of themselves more after they're installed so less time is spent fondling slime.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJmpuWMn0xtbUuxzhD8rfxt21570ROe2Remzwkl_i96NsCraJqHUKVs-1lLhX_SBS7wS0Ey_-FcZeWuuJtSPrrEms7mzVcJcUZ_-O9rWB2QLa3lT8e-ovTw5NK3RF175oVbVHmWcd4zP9pzjluYvjLjMARzG8cgxqjOxv4KVC8qkgreo8xsvhy8Y15VCs/s936/shade5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJmpuWMn0xtbUuxzhD8rfxt21570ROe2Remzwkl_i96NsCraJqHUKVs-1lLhX_SBS7wS0Ey_-FcZeWuuJtSPrrEms7mzVcJcUZ_-O9rWB2QLa3lT8e-ovTw5NK3RF175oVbVHmWcd4zP9pzjluYvjLjMARzG8cgxqjOxv4KVC8qkgreo8xsvhy8Y15VCs/s320/shade5.jpg" width="283" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Here's the terminus of the Shade Garden. The lovely gate that Bob made me for my birthday several years ago is such a nice transition to the wilder world beyond. And the giant pale green Colocasia makes a terrific statement (*2).<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibW4Je2dOvIoBLoWxWFHwEPwz80adWE4FsOhUGnxfcCPOvSG43BABPycSuIWtqPeD_azbPmHnxBmRx_rgGO-IwHmW2_Z7i58OpgSBM6YWLXLmkS3BgJuOs7iMc2Jrniig-LD9uGW9g_g2x9UXxHkId-BVLEO1kEjC0DTyx0EU4nKgV6SUECiB45NErd4Q/s960/shade1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibW4Je2dOvIoBLoWxWFHwEPwz80adWE4FsOhUGnxfcCPOvSG43BABPycSuIWtqPeD_azbPmHnxBmRx_rgGO-IwHmW2_Z7i58OpgSBM6YWLXLmkS3BgJuOs7iMc2Jrniig-LD9uGW9g_g2x9UXxHkId-BVLEO1kEjC0DTyx0EU4nKgV6SUECiB45NErd4Q/s320/shade1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>And you know me! Can't resist a bargain and can't have too many plants! While shopping at our local supermarket, how could I resist rescuing two Hostas (on two separate occasions) that had been reduced to 1/2 price! Ditto at the big box store where I was purchasing contact lens solution. They look so happy now. More residents for my expanding and improving Shade Garden: Yay!!<br /><div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(*1) Named varieties of Hosta that I have collected were "Island Breeze", "Guacamole", "little Mouse Ears", and recently added "Minuteman", "Rain Forest Sunrise" and "Blue Angel". I already had "Sum and Substance" and "Empress Wu" and "Sagae"-(these last 3 are huge varieties!), along with any number of delightful by unidentified cultivars.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>(*2) Thank you to our friend Roberta who has a real knack for raising an astonishing assortment of Elephant Ears!</div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-60763647176910236522023-07-15T06:25:00.002-07:002023-07-15T06:25:22.882-07:00Department of Stupid<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TOszDn7h5qjpwRStaLwgo2ybXlm4Hbf0gWPTIJ-A1ZiXMds6AVj5NFEcW6WYk8ZJnTuMuDDfrzuZkm8G5rhv_0iEOcKOjOnREbqAd1awm8aGztz-AVn_y_wxQ4RwugG73O3D6v63jp2DGiTRQdFCyjXo6YGfhsZrHtRd5rgg1phTxRWPblIeOGrU9AA/s600/105764562_658948632440443_4317899777100990722_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TOszDn7h5qjpwRStaLwgo2ybXlm4Hbf0gWPTIJ-A1ZiXMds6AVj5NFEcW6WYk8ZJnTuMuDDfrzuZkm8G5rhv_0iEOcKOjOnREbqAd1awm8aGztz-AVn_y_wxQ4RwugG73O3D6v63jp2DGiTRQdFCyjXo6YGfhsZrHtRd5rgg1phTxRWPblIeOGrU9AA/s320/105764562_658948632440443_4317899777100990722_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Look what I want for my birthday!! Yay! Someone somewhere got my algorithm right! Bright red and waterproof!! I can't wait...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The above picture is simply to get your attention while I relate a truly stupid tale. A couple of weeks ago, I received an email from the State of Connecticut's Department of the Treasury. They were delighted to inform me that I was going to be reunited with property that was mine. They expressed such joy in being able to tell me this! The email was positively bubbling over with a peculiar tone of self-congratulatory pride in the State's ability to locate me. There was a website listed- as I was skeptical that this was even real- and I checked it out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yup! Property that was mine was on its way... they didn't say how much or what it was, but I was being urged to watch the mail for this big delivery! At this point I was convinced it would probably be something like six dollars or an equally unimpressive sum... I</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Pcy_ROrVIKnxOJFbvUPjQGcwCHNxhnyfRkh94mebGoCmy0CmwMFsP1V74YC-iU7jd8U84sbCP1FIBONsT3Xw4jz0bjmw8DO_b0AqXtxwp0WxaxQ4lXBAAhaa1pjN06w-YWyigy0HuhInmtvxLFCjqikOEjkNpEFg3W9-BpazqSCihKHtceKonw257Ns/s1374/check.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1374" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Pcy_ROrVIKnxOJFbvUPjQGcwCHNxhnyfRkh94mebGoCmy0CmwMFsP1V74YC-iU7jd8U84sbCP1FIBONsT3Xw4jz0bjmw8DO_b0AqXtxwp0WxaxQ4lXBAAhaa1pjN06w-YWyigy0HuhInmtvxLFCjqikOEjkNpEFg3W9-BpazqSCihKHtceKonw257Ns/s320/check.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, there it is! A check for 6 cents. My first thought was (obviously), "You have to be fucking kidding me!" Needless to say, the State should have kept it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Think of the ridiculous amount of work that went into the "reuniting me" with my "personal property": someone had to research my records. Someone had to set up a data base website. Someone had to send me an email. Someone else had to print and cut the check. And then they had to mail it... which cost the State 53 cents. And I'm sure I'm not alone. How many people in the State were given checks for absurdly tiny bits of pocket change? Surely anything under, I dunno, maybe ten dollars? Could have been pooled into a rainy day fund or simply forfeited to the State of Connecticut. Stupidity in Action!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-67040462522615630042023-07-04T19:06:00.001-07:002023-07-04T19:06:01.863-07:00Party With the Professionals<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTbogVI5EAx8egc5x8sGEpTQCOEhEL2hxc72EU3aqAYslk82MNbZ4vWsNBAVfBDIHVlZ3OKu9vCQpUhNubF9NseN2JHHvdsp8uiyBUrOUJh6jrV5mFlvw77fhGHrt66zxn1EbB-rWNqG9GvuEIlo5OmZlXNYWD4zbJGgduJvCqn2jn8Vjm_E9FuYfxE8/s720/gardenparty3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTbogVI5EAx8egc5x8sGEpTQCOEhEL2hxc72EU3aqAYslk82MNbZ4vWsNBAVfBDIHVlZ3OKu9vCQpUhNubF9NseN2JHHvdsp8uiyBUrOUJh6jrV5mFlvw77fhGHrt66zxn1EbB-rWNqG9GvuEIlo5OmZlXNYWD4zbJGgduJvCqn2jn8Vjm_E9FuYfxE8/s320/gardenparty3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>For those of you unfortunate enough to have missed our fabulous garden party- due to illness, weather fears, previous engagements, etc- I offer an overview, in words and images. It really was a stunning success, due to all attendees being vigorously in the mood for a good time. COVID had (obviously) put the kibosh on anything other than small gatherings... and even those were approached with trepidation!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyokTzvbCgC1rgec_VlC9TReBDt3TybhhZjxjChcaM1zHrzCkxfRSNcDNPXtcug67MTsg9WNoAtxaRGDSxdihd26y0azlN9RuKWeZSUutcB7LWuwvlDAeEJML70L3Tgo4s7jKBBTAvmkNH5gzEWnXo5_j33QsjcPl3y6QE4M1DjJIvlV446ZNEvFquSQA/s720/gardenparty4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyokTzvbCgC1rgec_VlC9TReBDt3TybhhZjxjChcaM1zHrzCkxfRSNcDNPXtcug67MTsg9WNoAtxaRGDSxdihd26y0azlN9RuKWeZSUutcB7LWuwvlDAeEJML70L3Tgo4s7jKBBTAvmkNH5gzEWnXo5_j33QsjcPl3y6QE4M1DjJIvlV446ZNEvFquSQA/s320/gardenparty4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Great shot of Bob's sculpture (*1), a true highlight of the afternoon, along with the gardens, which looked incredible, if I do say so myself. The reason for the party, apart for the wish to see many friends drifting about, enjoying the chance to get out and blow the proverbial stink off, was to celebrate our gardens. Of course, the day dawned cloudy and rainy. We had a small tent, generously lent by friends (thank you Lydia and Vincent!!) but I was vexed, anticipating crowding all attendees beneath one small tent or having to rush them inside the house... this was supposed to be a garden party, after all! The weather gods chose to cooperate and stop raining about twenty minutes before the first guest arrived.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBkK1pMSiZLYxF01BR7dwzerFAN1G0EVPKt_l78STueWlGCBnky2JkkrSPyUdC6sL2EBJuedFySchE8BKAMD0FGYHST1KnOPflIvMtOYBwDa_1z4hZBJrXLs5O3tkta-Z5PXizgTkkWG6SpqysqJnMbX3XZ2er5Tq1a_KoBd3FzcWg-qzF1hyx1Kfsr9U/s720/gardenparty2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBkK1pMSiZLYxF01BR7dwzerFAN1G0EVPKt_l78STueWlGCBnky2JkkrSPyUdC6sL2EBJuedFySchE8BKAMD0FGYHST1KnOPflIvMtOYBwDa_1z4hZBJrXLs5O3tkta-Z5PXizgTkkWG6SpqysqJnMbX3XZ2er5Tq1a_KoBd3FzcWg-qzF1hyx1Kfsr9U/s320/gardenparty2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I was delighted to see our friends taking advantage of the day to walk around and see the garden in all of its glory, while eating and drinking and smoking and enjoying each other's company. Terrific food, congenial company, decent weather: it all was a delightful afternoon. I attempted to talk to everyone- if even briefly- but I was so busy playing "hostess with the mostess" (as was Bob). It was a busy afternoon, locating plastic forks and spoons and napkins for all gathered. But fun! We had fun!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTZEgas4MWHeZv5ePuwzwTXMN-v3PIpu2SoZCZry_ODBAwuKNOHK-ffvIaOwuBsTLEoA9senPU8u94y2oSVIUkHOw3nyD1MyXIjGfWkkOgmNqQc-lzJsgFLeW0LZSjMQ_yEFovIZEJ2QsTxyIMmGZeZLAuNvs-D_9mNZ8iWH1F5dd1TVyQFCD5fq2GYk/s768/gardenparty5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="576" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTZEgas4MWHeZv5ePuwzwTXMN-v3PIpu2SoZCZry_ODBAwuKNOHK-ffvIaOwuBsTLEoA9senPU8u94y2oSVIUkHOw3nyD1MyXIjGfWkkOgmNqQc-lzJsgFLeW0LZSjMQ_yEFovIZEJ2QsTxyIMmGZeZLAuNvs-D_9mNZ8iWH1F5dd1TVyQFCD5fq2GYk/s320/gardenparty5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Here I am, explaining the finer points of gardening (in The Blue Garden) to anyone who will listen. I was kept on my proverbial gardening toes by the many inquiries by inquiring minds needing to know. I reeled off Latin- and common names and hope everyone went home the wiser.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZGzORz_5feX1r2XBi5KQKhxSBGBbA4wrjSc414gTQWXIC5qCjYMl46gzs6utwSKvdax1mmSaK9RzT6KoPIRYPXl1bytx6wHcCPrH1mSYJzPeIX0H8ObR0Uc3JL5L2OXC9MnT2MfTXLNio1pdd7QF8GEjVPyyiDxk8X7s1raz4aK6XnA2c0A_Zf4m11I/s720/gardenparty1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZGzORz_5feX1r2XBi5KQKhxSBGBbA4wrjSc414gTQWXIC5qCjYMl46gzs6utwSKvdax1mmSaK9RzT6KoPIRYPXl1bytx6wHcCPrH1mSYJzPeIX0H8ObR0Uc3JL5L2OXC9MnT2MfTXLNio1pdd7QF8GEjVPyyiDxk8X7s1raz4aK6XnA2c0A_Zf4m11I/s320/gardenparty1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>This picture is after poor Robin the Good was liberated from the (air-conditioned, soft ambient music playing, food/water/toys provided) maximum security jail that is our bedroom. We had even had her sedated (didn't work!) thinking that she'd be stressed and crazy if allowed to freely roam the party. WRONG! Worst thing I ever did was try an prevent our pathetic Robin from joining in with the festivities! Never again. She was fine and well-behaved after her parole. In this picture, I am explaining some sort of wonkish garden lore to my fellow horticultural nerd friend Bob S. Thank goodness for people as crazy and plant addicted as myself!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_iZA7XuHUuTHv-XKZUZcy017nA-fPlqMRoCYv7oJDuhUFMdsouEBzpi27ZzhEB8vGzZuD4_XTXHMQfCh0uk_leKaOks-AaJBmfvPMACHM5LghoQTL0pe-5XCek0zViSN53cdiL_Ax41y8zRwIBkoU5HqKo9miFYkHl_VOqgjwpQ4cMuBMahUZ44LC2Ng/s720/gardenparty6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_iZA7XuHUuTHv-XKZUZcy017nA-fPlqMRoCYv7oJDuhUFMdsouEBzpi27ZzhEB8vGzZuD4_XTXHMQfCh0uk_leKaOks-AaJBmfvPMACHM5LghoQTL0pe-5XCek0zViSN53cdiL_Ax41y8zRwIBkoU5HqKo9miFYkHl_VOqgjwpQ4cMuBMahUZ44LC2Ng/s320/gardenparty6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>There's Neko in the background. I think she was curious about all the people wandering around the yard. I took several groups of friends in to meet her. Neko seemed to enjoy the odd variety of visitors. Some brought treats; others just marveled at life with large barnyard animals. Something for everyone! Novelties and oddities. Roots and tubers. Vegetables and flowers. Friends and strangers. A splendid gathering! And we don't have to do this again for at least a year! (*2)<div><br /></div><div>*1) All photographs were taken by Mickie Sistrand who graciously allowed me to post them. I was way too busy to think of documenting the party...</div><div><br /></div><div>(*2) Bob and I were exhausted. After limited human contact for the last three years, it was a lot to entertain so many people. Fun, yes but tiring. And I had to go speak at an artist's talk the next day... we were quite finished by the week's end. Typically, we used to have a big party every year- either a summer garden party or a New Year's Party. Maybe the tradition returns this year...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-65648012040572627962023-06-22T07:08:00.001-07:002023-06-23T17:15:44.870-07:00So Much Excitement<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8T6QH9J3gdgi9giJQp4z4rr3IuTuNuJVl76rOi5e0kQLTZXVfq0tbk-nFlgTyv3V0KBEnteaeq29DD8i5TwHo_SJ1XMPMTR2kwYGrfvTAcaXyIRDikB1qtRwCTZs91kPWM0dTOqVuYT60XYqZwC6Jspl5pAkEPuVRsBlEkXGPNGenwcg8dM57ieDndso" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="449" data-original-width="504" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8T6QH9J3gdgi9giJQp4z4rr3IuTuNuJVl76rOi5e0kQLTZXVfq0tbk-nFlgTyv3V0KBEnteaeq29DD8i5TwHo_SJ1XMPMTR2kwYGrfvTAcaXyIRDikB1qtRwCTZs91kPWM0dTOqVuYT60XYqZwC6Jspl5pAkEPuVRsBlEkXGPNGenwcg8dM57ieDndso" width="269" /></a></div>I went to New York yesterday with two artist friends to enjoy a lovely afternoon of gallery hopping and dishing on various art scandals plaguing our local non-profit scene. We had a splendid time! As we were sitting on the train to go back home, I thought to text Bob to tell him I was on my way.<p></p><div>I sent my message and prepared to receive a brief text back from Bob, saying something innocuous like, "See you in a while!" or "Hope you had fun!". Instead I got a message that read- alarmingly- "Where's Neko's (the horse) halter? She's in our backyard freaking out and running around. There was a bear in her pasture. She jumped the fence." Uh... not exactly reassuring or calming as so many questions came to mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was another text: "Got Neko back in her field; lured her with food". Well good for Bob for perfecting his horse wrangling skills and good for Neko for not killing herself or Bob or Robin the Good. Of course that led me to wonder nervously, where was Robin in all the excitement?</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6a3BvWcXe8jY1rEoL5bGe_aZ1B3bvwZsa69TNmVUiDW3kJDVR9gAT8GzZDw78JZlm5NEUoHtHFqZ1dL22tmwm-EajVzZk63GlVEm8gTFgXd4bUdVkRKv6xbXZk9QVSBm1sRgeooTcqaPn8h_FQ1glZz2zZCYmk9oAAskytpqxiRvhisS-CpcpmwzsJBg/s320/bear2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="289" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6a3BvWcXe8jY1rEoL5bGe_aZ1B3bvwZsa69TNmVUiDW3kJDVR9gAT8GzZDw78JZlm5NEUoHtHFqZ1dL22tmwm-EajVzZk63GlVEm8gTFgXd4bUdVkRKv6xbXZk9QVSBm1sRgeooTcqaPn8h_FQ1glZz2zZCYmk9oAAskytpqxiRvhisS-CpcpmwzsJBg/s1600/bear2.jpg" width="289" /></a></div><div><br /></div>(Recycled bear pictures from last year's almost encounter as Bob was way to busy to run in the house and grab his phone or camera.) I dashed off several quick texts to Bob, asking "Is everyone okay?!??!!" There was an tense period where I'm checking my phone every three seconds, hoping for a bear disaster update and... nothing.<div><br /></div><div>Until half an hour later, Bob says everyone is fine, although Bob related that Neko is still pretty disturbed, looking over her shoulder towards the woods, wondering where Mr. Bear is going to appear next. From Bob's description later on, the bear was simply ambling through the field looking pretty nonchalant. Bob's voice was hoarse from screaming at it and clapping his hands in an effort to scare it away.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19cAIdXmlK-OJh5QpREMMhJflodORilky9D3ZgUNNNhoEWd__PrxaJ_tMMvWBv0V-H9PcGo4hg6D__FAWQh96mehqmurZot-oztxvumV3vYVIO4VsXIIfqBCbSnim22QrfSgkILNxcrb3V4-GpGdHyKSZq7RbufNb0u-su9C7iiFYmKgX20dnC4kyUHU/s393/bear1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="393" data-original-width="290" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19cAIdXmlK-OJh5QpREMMhJflodORilky9D3ZgUNNNhoEWd__PrxaJ_tMMvWBv0V-H9PcGo4hg6D__FAWQh96mehqmurZot-oztxvumV3vYVIO4VsXIIfqBCbSnim22QrfSgkILNxcrb3V4-GpGdHyKSZq7RbufNb0u-su9C7iiFYmKgX20dnC4kyUHU/s320/bear1.jpg" width="236" /></a></div><br /><div>When I arrived home, Bob filled in all the exciting details of his heroic defense of our homeland. He described Neko's galloping around our entire backyard, miraculously not damaging herself or our gardens (which of course, we're preparing for this Saturday's party!) She did stop to graze selectively from our lawn, probably thinking the terror of the bear was outweighed by her all-consuming love of eating. Bob had had the foresight to put Robin in the house when he spied Neko frantically running around. Ironically, Bob said that Robin was apparently so stunned by the bear she didn't even bark. (This is a dog who barks at the suggestion of anything even slightly out of the ordinary.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it is time to have a serious discussion of how we live together with large unruly animals. Despite several friend's opinions to the contrary, I have very little desire to encounter more bears. Yes, this week, we had a few really nice wildlife sightings: two turtles canoodling by the peach tree, two foxes cavorting across the lawn, several turkeys looking for delicious horse poop, and lots of blue birds... but bears? Nope! Not interested! But what can we do: the bears are increasingly acclimated to living among us, stealing our cupcakes (on several occasions!), carrying small dogs and cats off , destroying bird feeders and breaking into houses through screen doors. Am I the only one thinking that soon enough, a small child or hiker is going to be attacked? (*1)</div><div><br /></div><div>(*1) Yes, I keep hearing the argument that "they're more afraid of us than we are of them", but there have been a few very close calls. I would love to go trail riding but seriously do not want to be on Neko when we encounter a bear! </div><div><div><br /></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-21443077818700190742023-06-12T07:39:00.000-07:002023-06-12T07:39:01.482-07:00The Inherent Dangers of Art Openings<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCcLXBwojPBVQzjX6NvpBovw1yrG2xYVqJ7jiO5ti9gfk1bbJgDXMus8NZ3T6oKBOoxUvl9GxuuZW5_Cmd3sAfbbh4ihoni0AS-iVVFe6MY6dMwZX_Ho_qGLj6u-ZMNrOfenYFue0zMc1EgJ12-9WuwNLbat0Rz4HHgAW5htxOEyjTomMV99FksxOI/s936/garden4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="739" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCcLXBwojPBVQzjX6NvpBovw1yrG2xYVqJ7jiO5ti9gfk1bbJgDXMus8NZ3T6oKBOoxUvl9GxuuZW5_Cmd3sAfbbh4ihoni0AS-iVVFe6MY6dMwZX_Ho_qGLj6u-ZMNrOfenYFue0zMc1EgJ12-9WuwNLbat0Rz4HHgAW5htxOEyjTomMV99FksxOI/s320/garden4.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><br />First up, must be noted that illustrations have nothing to do with the content of this post... they're just snaps of various interesting details around the farm.<p></p><p>So I went to an art opening the other day, nothing unusual there, but Bob declined to accompany me as he just wasn't in the mood so I flew solo. It was an opening at a new gallery venue near where I used to work, and ironically it was a house we had casually considered when we were house hunting. Additionally, I knew several of the artist showing, so what could possibly go wrong?</p><p>I arrived and they had suggested that parking was an issue so I was ushered into a field, proximate to the driveway. I was then informed I could walk up the road or hike it country-style through a field where a narrow roadway strip had been mowed. Being an adventurous gal, I voted to traverse the field... despite wearing rather chunky high platform shoes. That was fine until I either missed a side trail or the path simply terminated and I had to scramble over a stone wall. Good thing I'm nimble!</p><p>I then walked up the front path to (of course) the wrong door and simply entered into what looked like someone's private living room but fortunately spied one of the artist/friends so was able to smooth my abrupt appearance. That is until the woman with whom my friend was speaking rose up to greet me and I mistook her for an acquaintance I hadn't seen in a long time so I embraced her. Awkward as it turned out she was the daughter of the woman who's gallery I was visiting whom I had never met; I'm certain she now thinks I'm very odd.</p><p>But things were lovely after that. The show looked very nice: much very abstract and painterly stuff, hung in a pleasant space. The director of the gallery (who I fortunately didn't hug impetuously) was conversational and enthusiastic about her new venue. I then did what one does at such events- I circulated and met up with artists and friends that I hadn't seen in some time, COVID having interrupted the gallery scene quite a bit.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFpcEe1CQ77xYAie4h6g2CJjzYD1ZNzxLe5pdjhOBSDLVZU3Mu1UdLDDa2UlUravFhQzbrUIRcsrhTmr8iBRGJHGrIuDur6PtnNtkHiBD_Z7EdRD6kWLR9DOn7g-72V48fy5_BRwgqMu3L5J_CbTt2p-IdeuhSZpCWWZ4zlmRPFGP0YYlIM0g340Sm/s936/garden7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="728" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFpcEe1CQ77xYAie4h6g2CJjzYD1ZNzxLe5pdjhOBSDLVZU3Mu1UdLDDa2UlUravFhQzbrUIRcsrhTmr8iBRGJHGrIuDur6PtnNtkHiBD_Z7EdRD6kWLR9DOn7g-72V48fy5_BRwgqMu3L5J_CbTt2p-IdeuhSZpCWWZ4zlmRPFGP0YYlIM0g340Sm/s320/garden7.jpg" width="249" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All this chatting and yakking and embracing and schmoosing had made me vaguely hungry and curious about the food offerings as many openings have nicely catered edibles. I surveyed the table and selected the tidbit that I thought had the least danger of sticking between my teeth, skipping what looked like delicious pastry-wrapped spinach puff in favor of what I took to be a meat ball. Looked chicken by the color and seeing as how I have developed an affinity for meatballs recently, I popped it into my mouth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn4NXeVJOuEtSES5kO_FUVB70qNZBGrFFEvqBiZFZfGJ_GsYxKz2POaAlIIEvj77w9ZykwpvxsIeAehhtMPzGVNJMNurQ2_-lzb-RnCCIrnemrbuJAf5nR6weHGnyievB7EN8cnY0-nrHqPExGrj_ujVQdJJaYC0vsqJ6t41ltY1S_yYw43sFl2h_M/s936/garden3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn4NXeVJOuEtSES5kO_FUVB70qNZBGrFFEvqBiZFZfGJ_GsYxKz2POaAlIIEvj77w9ZykwpvxsIeAehhtMPzGVNJMNurQ2_-lzb-RnCCIrnemrbuJAf5nR6weHGnyievB7EN8cnY0-nrHqPExGrj_ujVQdJJaYC0vsqJ6t41ltY1S_yYw43sFl2h_M/s320/garden3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">As I chewed and swallowed it dawned on me that I might have made a very bad mistake. Uh... just what was in that small, beige lump I had just ingested? My official food-taster (Bob) wasn't there to warn me off suspicious- and dangerous!- items that I shouldn't eat as I will remind you, I am allergic to shellfish (*1)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So I hunted down the gallery owner, who was deep in conversation with two potential clients and I hated to do it but I interrupted their art talk and said, "Excuse me... what exactly was in that meatball thing I just ate?" She started explaining what was in the OTHER innocent pastry lump (the one I should have eaten) and I said, "Not that one... the little beige balls". Of curse she replied, "Oh that's a crab cake". Not the words I wanted to hear! I started panicking, thinking, "Oh great! I'm going to have a severe reaction at an art opening and possibly die!" Fortunately, someone overheard this and said, "Give her Benadryl". So despite struggling to remove the tablets from the child-proof foil packaging (all the while getting more and more stressed), I was able to down the tablets and hie it out the door to the nearest pharmacy. (*2)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtNSXQHkcvx38-8q7KDSEydpBfQKg5lYTXlOxveeAAV9M_bX3AjSgbrDJpuxIdjVVbVRvawrElvxns0tlfeyEpGq2t69WqwZfyUTUjo81Xbmbm6wdtz2f-dFQU2K54I9E9wGQ7Jz_mWkcahK8l6YjHsU2eu9j6oijuei1-VNKYe5NFMU6CRV4IYbz/s936/garden1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtNSXQHkcvx38-8q7KDSEydpBfQKg5lYTXlOxveeAAV9M_bX3AjSgbrDJpuxIdjVVbVRvawrElvxns0tlfeyEpGq2t69WqwZfyUTUjo81Xbmbm6wdtz2f-dFQU2K54I9E9wGQ7Jz_mWkcahK8l6YjHsU2eu9j6oijuei1-VNKYe5NFMU6CRV4IYbz/s320/garden1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I opted for the road route back to my car all the while contemplating my imminent demise at the side of a country lane, my heart pounding and my blood no doubt circulating all that lovely crab-based poison throughout my system. I knew where the CVS was and got there quickly.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Fortunately, there was a really nice young pharmacist on duty who took excellent care of me. She had an Epi-pen at the ready and observed me for a half hour. My lips were feeling funny and I advised the pharmacist that my throat felt sort of tight, but my reaction was mild and she assured me that the Benadryl most definitely helped and I had done the right thing. I was still alive after 30 minutes so I was free to go, although now I was a bit dopey from the two Benadryl... but I was still among the living!! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I texted my artist friend to say I was okay and I related to Bob my above adventure. All I can say is: please label dishes at openings and parties... or better yet, avoid things that trigger common food allergies. A significant portion of the population suffers from some form of allergy. But better yet, my comment to me is: Don't put anything in your mouth that you're not sure of!! (*3)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">(*1) The specific family of crustaceans, that is lobster/crab/shrimp. I can do clams and oysters and mussels as they are in a different family but don't really see the charm as they all strike me as being kinda jumpy and slippery.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>(*2) I went to the pharmacy as they would be able to administer an Epi-pen which prevents anaphylaxis which can kill you... and rather quickly. I am allergic enough that Bob once ate a shrimp appetizer of some sort at a reception and when he kissed me, my lips swelled up and I felt itchy. Another time, a friend brought a plate of some sort of shrimp platter and later that night I washed the dishes. My throat felt tight and "funny" and it dawned on me that just touching the shrimpy residue dish was enough to trigger a reaction through my hands.<div><br /><div>(*3) And what do I always say to Robin the Good, as she skulks about the yard, devouring squirrel poop and the assorted bird droppings? "What have you got in your mouth? Don't eat that!" Or the horse! Neko had hives a couple of weeks back and I had to give her a huge dose of Benadryl. Do they ever listen? Do I ever learn?!?!?<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p></div></div>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-5027292291168692682023-05-30T05:44:00.000-07:002023-05-30T05:44:12.254-07:00What Next?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBCXwNIsufkVHoTLJDBwFM2aQEdIQTREgSFjFcL45mvOef05M27JrWGGxsCFZ1vCTeuxxiYo9wTzasK75d7C3AfN83CyLKe8b6gib2uA5ZaI5nMQrbBb9vdeBxkCfOD2vD1dcFK226pCBDsTDgAx98zii0TtvkPMt3puPco_zQlSTewF3K1xzSI0X/s960/robin9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBCXwNIsufkVHoTLJDBwFM2aQEdIQTREgSFjFcL45mvOef05M27JrWGGxsCFZ1vCTeuxxiYo9wTzasK75d7C3AfN83CyLKe8b6gib2uA5ZaI5nMQrbBb9vdeBxkCfOD2vD1dcFK226pCBDsTDgAx98zii0TtvkPMt3puPco_zQlSTewF3K1xzSI0X/s320/robin9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />Poor Robin the Good was found to be positive for anaplasmosis, one of the many lovely tick-borne diseases plaguing our outdoor adventures. Both Bob and I had noticed that our usually chipper Robin was a bit depressed and seemed under the weather; the blood test confirmed our suspicions. Robin was perscribed a two week course of antibioics (twice a day), which she willingly accepted for about a day and a half.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjKstfIKf0LGFtUW-NAP3edID63sfLKFts3kmVZ5XPSQBiyhdV1fzrgK1d3wFT4NmgnPq8FyIdSfah7vUDJN37Ul2EG9XbpumjQ-aRP2jcis04HBpcP-mys1I34RPTaQ4mVPWpvpSu5GcIjNPNTnWTcBJFHaSWOjVT4veFhuENUI2bD-EvLU-wv4c/s960/robin8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjKstfIKf0LGFtUW-NAP3edID63sfLKFts3kmVZ5XPSQBiyhdV1fzrgK1d3wFT4NmgnPq8FyIdSfah7vUDJN37Ul2EG9XbpumjQ-aRP2jcis04HBpcP-mys1I34RPTaQ4mVPWpvpSu5GcIjNPNTnWTcBJFHaSWOjVT4veFhuENUI2bD-EvLU-wv4c/s320/robin8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>My first line of administration was tuck it into a blob of peanut butter (*1). Another day of two doses sucessfully taken... until Robin caught on and decided peanut butter was now to be avoided at all costs. I then purchased some extra smelly meat-like dog treats which proved effective for another day or so and then those treats were also found out to contain the dreaded pills. I wrapped the pills in a chunk of chicken skin... but ditto, as this too was found out and Robin then decided that I was trying to poison her. She began refusing food and even her beloved Kong (*2). I confess to resorting to cornering poor Robin and wedging the pills into her mouth (between all those lovely, pointy, sharp canine teeth). I then had to hold her mouth shut and message her throat until she swallowed. No one was happier than I when Robin finished her course of antibiotics; two weeks felt like two bloody years!</p><p>Imediately after completing her course of medication, Robin seemed her normal bumptious self. The first time I saw her skipping blithely across the lawn I was over joyed. She had recovered and all of my careful doctoring was rewarded. No one wants to see their beloved beast sick! But Robin then began presenting a weird new behavior...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyGe5c5F1PoBtXKHRlXrIbQ9gO9GBLNjguOs6_8525w6DWTE0VceT6LpTidyqFMpkm4hFF9wMECSbs7ZeFTP3qnoOUbKK-tGslieJtPCI7HzqpsDVsfrMLqKsQI7g2DLlglU7kzBNVDGwv6yVCTwQ0AoLmiAySycXKa98paI1iUAvpFTn6mpSRNrT/s960/robin7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyGe5c5F1PoBtXKHRlXrIbQ9gO9GBLNjguOs6_8525w6DWTE0VceT6LpTidyqFMpkm4hFF9wMECSbs7ZeFTP3qnoOUbKK-tGslieJtPCI7HzqpsDVsfrMLqKsQI7g2DLlglU7kzBNVDGwv6yVCTwQ0AoLmiAySycXKa98paI1iUAvpFTn6mpSRNrT/s320/robin7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>We will never know if Robin's next manifestation of doggy quirk was somehow brought on by the illness or the pills or if it was simply a bizarre coincidence, but Robin began expressing what is called a "pseudo-pregnancy". (*3) She would pick up one of her stuffed toys- interstingly, only the two green vaguely "dog-ropromorfic" ones- and carry it around while squeaking and whinning in the most heart-breaking manner possible. She's retreat to the cave under our computer table and just look miserable. I began thinking, "Great! Now she's lost her marbles!"</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9ukbkfyHXMCFe6tXfuHethoR-yVBKv3lLE_aYpIshYV-iUDHCfmVj13cUg40zhcvZgUOM8dw9_29sBvU7mPhi9qzEuVkLdZLp_ieRGsxPCGtQc_bfvcva17_JdoBjbVURszFmG9I_vyZNwLPiFkNLgCiIcg7kQR4P0QnjAmEsuGPxKqoOUHo1YlL/s960/robin10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9ukbkfyHXMCFe6tXfuHethoR-yVBKv3lLE_aYpIshYV-iUDHCfmVj13cUg40zhcvZgUOM8dw9_29sBvU7mPhi9qzEuVkLdZLp_ieRGsxPCGtQc_bfvcva17_JdoBjbVURszFmG9I_vyZNwLPiFkNLgCiIcg7kQR4P0QnjAmEsuGPxKqoOUHo1YlL/s320/robin10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>(One of two of Robin's "puppies".) Fortunately, this stage has only lasted four days or so and Robin seems as normal as she ever does (*4). She has been eating, I seem to have been forgiven for attempting to poison her and she's walked past her two green puppies without a thought. It's good to have her back!<br /><p>(*1) It does mystify me as to why dogs love peanut butter as much as they (rather universally) do. It resembles nothing else they eat and requires preparation in the form of grinding and putting it in a jar and labeling it. Weird.</p><p>(*2) A Kong, for those of you who are (unfortunatley) dog-less, is this molded rubber object (looks like some sort of sex toy) who's cavity is filled with dog treats, usually bound togther in a mortar of peanut butter; keeps them busy for a few minutes. Robin adores hers and will not start the day without one!</p><p>(*3) Believe it or not, this is a fairly common behavior in female dogs and cats- whether spayed or not. When we were growing up, we had a cat (I think it was Mazille) that took to meowing pitifully while carrying a mitten around in her mouth. I still remember her going up the cellar stairs with her mitten kitten, apparently looking for a safe spot.</p><p>(*4) Normal being relative. Robin the Good is a truly superior dog with a mind to match but she is a bit odd. She doesn't like car rides, she doesn't like walks, and she doesn't particularly care for other dogs. </p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803197252911757867.post-83779897056916294692023-05-20T08:29:00.000-07:002023-05-20T08:29:43.707-07:00Lots to Do!!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1nijgb39G4RyGwTrkzheyJy_o-Ablf0v9LozvUAB-lgi9nE4pznmRor-NEdT4HinimXVGaD8-Z4k-OM9cI-WIH5a-X0-H9EISbcoyZk6KRQZtekITgMYS_Phn2Kd7GatOFleXNh3K6KV7ROaSmrnNZnN58gQY8XtDzP6Yc6t3dcAshNiTK2Kc9FeH/s960/studiocorner1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1nijgb39G4RyGwTrkzheyJy_o-Ablf0v9LozvUAB-lgi9nE4pznmRor-NEdT4HinimXVGaD8-Z4k-OM9cI-WIH5a-X0-H9EISbcoyZk6KRQZtekITgMYS_Phn2Kd7GatOFleXNh3K6KV7ROaSmrnNZnN58gQY8XtDzP6Yc6t3dcAshNiTK2Kc9FeH/s320/studiocorner1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Well this is a partial explanantion as to why I haven't had a minute to post a new blog. The siren song of gardening is calling with all its attendant demands on my time. You have to go to nurseries and garden centers (and local plant sales) to buy the plants with which to fill borders and containers. Then you have to keep them happy until you plant them. And you have to shuffle them from outdoors to indoors when there's danger of freeze. Which there was! In May! And not early May! Lots of things I would have considered hardy got zapped: young leaves on a Tiger's Eye Sumac, many of the young shoots on the garpe vines, Casa Blanca lily stalks... pretty depressing! So every day, I lugged all those tender plants pictured above in and out of my studio... </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghNGEXEiffZkkXDc1Xpss5MoUDAGdcPC3_dtxxEve8XJcbEOKwpTjnbLiDOkJyXnbVtg4tLqBznvlr_XEa_-7aq2X5eVDL6ngK-Qw7xzCWE2_S3VSwnKt50vqdoxNrT0tNiAQZwkDP00Ls2JpMaD1TZbk8smCJ1fsQl4Ky7asm3_Aw5IaLs4Uo9ojV/s960/studiocorner2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghNGEXEiffZkkXDc1Xpss5MoUDAGdcPC3_dtxxEve8XJcbEOKwpTjnbLiDOkJyXnbVtg4tLqBznvlr_XEa_-7aq2X5eVDL6ngK-Qw7xzCWE2_S3VSwnKt50vqdoxNrT0tNiAQZwkDP00Ls2JpMaD1TZbk8smCJ1fsQl4Ky7asm3_Aw5IaLs4Uo9ojV/s320/studiocorner2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>And as if that weren't enough to keep an actively gardening artist busy I also had two shows to prepare for. One show, "The NO Show" I actually helped plan/organize and "curate" against all my best instincts. I've always vowed to never avail myself to the other side of the artistic process as producing art shows can be a thankless and punishing process. But NO!! It's been great! Artist chosen were well-behaved and actually got their work to us and set up of the show went swimmingly. A pleasant surprise!! Thank you Jim (*1) and Megan!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxxxNsS67GdQVNFmvy6sgR2wjOc_nbQmpOWt_gSl3KvcaOZvHHx-hxOoQKIAEslPDgEN9mbNE4Wom-rZw2lUlpfep776pltVJoXfSucMmUAL3xx2DP4GIsKrZYEgcsPZBCFcXxe82IWFqXQgFVUZ9HVvhXlnVErWuDjpKZIqhcHRBy9l9SKmfhpiUx/s960/studiocorner3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxxxNsS67GdQVNFmvy6sgR2wjOc_nbQmpOWt_gSl3KvcaOZvHHx-hxOoQKIAEslPDgEN9mbNE4Wom-rZw2lUlpfep776pltVJoXfSucMmUAL3xx2DP4GIsKrZYEgcsPZBCFcXxe82IWFqXQgFVUZ9HVvhXlnVErWuDjpKZIqhcHRBy9l9SKmfhpiUx/s320/studiocorner3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Oh no! There's plants everywhere!! Even hiding under my studio table! Aaaaaauuughhh!!! Anyway, I was also asked to show at another space at the end of June so I had to clean up the studio to accomodate the curator- move over plant life!</p><p>(*1) The concept for The NO Show came about because our friend Jim was frequently bemoaning his inability to say NO to people who came to his shop with requests for repairs and the like. I kiddingly gave him the assignment to create a large NO out of metal and put it on the lawn in front of his studio. A few years passed with me periodically reminding him to make the damned NO. One day while visiting him, we started riffing on how saying NO was a good thing and how many of us artists say "YES" to donations and things we really didn't want to do... which led to The NO Show. It's a good way to liberate yourself from always saying yes.</p> <p></p><p></p>BobnRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11095215494916222775noreply@blogger.com0