But I do write! Just not that often. What about? Well, whatever crosses the synapses, mostly. But hardly any poetry, 'cos no one goes for that.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
I hadn't thought about it like that
When I was growing up, churches didn't have message signs; Huber's Rent-All did. My favorite dates back to when Burt Reynolds appeared as the centerfold in Playgirl magazine: "Burt Needs Reynolds Wrap."
We like to imagine that there's a newsletter for pastors that feeds them clever bits they can put on their signs. Then again, maybe pastors are wittier than when I was a kid, too.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Fun Monday - Trivial Fact
Hauling out the keyboard to participate in Fun Monday today. :^)
Asks Mama Drama: What funny trivial fact do you remember that you probably should have forgotten a long time ago?
Well, that's a hard choice; there seem to be so many the older I get!
For a long time, I cherished the knowledge that the original name of short-lived Pope John Paul I was Albino Luciani.
But now that you mentioned President Garfield, I'm thinking of my favorite president story. William Henry Harrison, the only Hoosier to be elected President of the United States, caught cold and died after only a month in office, setting the tone for many future flawed Indiana celebrities. And all because he refused to wear an overcoat during his longest-ever inauguration speech. (According to Wikipedia, the real circumstances of his fatal illness were unrelated, but hey, that spoils the story a bit.)
Looking forward to being enriched by what everyone else turns up. Thanks, Mama Drama!
Asks Mama Drama: What funny trivial fact do you remember that you probably should have forgotten a long time ago?
Well, that's a hard choice; there seem to be so many the older I get!
For a long time, I cherished the knowledge that the original name of short-lived Pope John Paul I was Albino Luciani.
But now that you mentioned President Garfield, I'm thinking of my favorite president story. William Henry Harrison, the only Hoosier to be elected President of the United States, caught cold and died after only a month in office, setting the tone for many future flawed Indiana celebrities. And all because he refused to wear an overcoat during his longest-ever inauguration speech. (According to Wikipedia, the real circumstances of his fatal illness were unrelated, but hey, that spoils the story a bit.)
Looking forward to being enriched by what everyone else turns up. Thanks, Mama Drama!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
A farewell to elms
Okay, not elms, actually. A variety of "trash trees" that have been growing at the back of our neighbor's property, along our shared back fence. Ailanthus, buckthorn, and white poplar.
I came home yesterday and noticed with glee that the huge mulberry tree that's been slowly destroying our garage roof was completely gone. I appreciated the new clearing on the horizon, and the greater light it let in. I thought how little I would miss having to wash purple stains off my feet when I walk barefoot in our yard. I did reflect that the squirrels and birds who perform their morning theater in the solid wall of 20-foot tall trees would have to find a new venue.
But this morning, things keep on changing. A crew of workers are back, with a big chipper and a couple other yellow machines, and they seem to be removing nearly everything along the fence. A lot of it's falling into our yard, so they hop the fence and remove it.
I wonder what the owner has in mind. An airline pilot lives there, and I sometimes glimpse him on his screened-in back porch having a smoke. We've never chatted, so I figure he must like his privacy. I've already figured out he doesn't like winged company (see the sorrowful birdie condemned tenement at right).
Is this a prelude to landscaping? Will he put up a tall wooden fence instead? Is he getting the house ready to sell?
I wonder if we'll be tempted to plant some sort of screen ourselves, such as a row of hedge or arbor vitae. Good fences make good neighbors, and a thick wall of vegetation along the fences doesn't hurt either, methinks.
I came home yesterday and noticed with glee that the huge mulberry tree that's been slowly destroying our garage roof was completely gone. I appreciated the new clearing on the horizon, and the greater light it let in. I thought how little I would miss having to wash purple stains off my feet when I walk barefoot in our yard. I did reflect that the squirrels and birds who perform their morning theater in the solid wall of 20-foot tall trees would have to find a new venue.
But this morning, things keep on changing. A crew of workers are back, with a big chipper and a couple other yellow machines, and they seem to be removing nearly everything along the fence. A lot of it's falling into our yard, so they hop the fence and remove it.
I wonder what the owner has in mind. An airline pilot lives there, and I sometimes glimpse him on his screened-in back porch having a smoke. We've never chatted, so I figure he must like his privacy. I've already figured out he doesn't like winged company (see the sorrowful birdie condemned tenement at right).
Is this a prelude to landscaping? Will he put up a tall wooden fence instead? Is he getting the house ready to sell?
I wonder if we'll be tempted to plant some sort of screen ourselves, such as a row of hedge or arbor vitae. Good fences make good neighbors, and a thick wall of vegetation along the fences doesn't hurt either, methinks.
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