Thursday, September 20, 2007

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

M my name is Mary

Middle name, that is. Been tagged by Granny J of Walking Prescott.

"...list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don't have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have. At the end of your blog post you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag."

Wouldn't I love to pick a different middle name? Can anyone guess what it would be? But let's use my real one: Mary.

Manly

I've often thought I should have been born a male. Growing up, I was held to many of the same standards as my five brothers. Someone asked me recently why I don't cry. That's why.

Besides, there're always antidepressants to take up the slack.

Action-oriented

Can't stand to just sit around. I have to be making things, fixing things, or planning things.

riter

Well, wRiter, anyway. May not yet be a good one, but I sure am prolific.

Yin/Yang

Yin and Yang. Somewhat of a dualist. Especially with people, I've learned to look for the flip side of just about anything. Life just seems to be like that.

Ahh, Granny J, while you're welcome to tag me, I decline to pass it on.

Readers (hope you're plural...) you are welcome to grab the baton yourself.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Nibelheim in the Mists


When the clouds rise from the Chemung River and meet the hills, it's time to haul the HuggaMutt to the strand where we can look for photos appropriate to early September.

It's cool and quiet. We find a few fishermen, human and otherwise, and some fellow dog walkers. This shot is going into my fantasy-romance when I post this weekend. Nibelheim is the town where all the action is currently based. It shouldn't be any surprise that most of my inspiration for the setting comes from the Southern Tier of Upstate New York, USA.

pb
Little Pond

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

What I remember most.

9/11/01 was further punctuated at the Star Gazette by a series of phone calls alerting us to the coincidental death of a coworker. Carolyn was returning from Atlantic City when she was overcome by asthma.

We could have used her that awful day; she would have shared the burden of the Extra Edition. The younger workers were in too much shock to work. They whined and cried, and generally were useless. Who could blame them?

For years, not a day would go by when we didn't miss Carolyn. Lately, it's more like weeks, but we still miss her terribly. New employees work even less. I don't know if it's an age thing, or something more insidious, like culture.

When you lose an Old School workchum, things are never the same. Last night, my boss raised the question of whether or not we are victims of ageism. Left to work nights, the toughest shift of all, while the younger folk pass the day (I wouldn't much call it working) carrying less than half the load. You see, it's easier to let things slide when not on deadline. It's easy to go home, leaving unsolved problems, when the central office isn't yet demanding an immediate solution.

We would find the solutions: Carolyn, GF, and me. We were once called the ATeam. I remember. But memories don't count for anything today. They are just sad.

pb
Little Pond

Friday, September 07, 2007

Note to self:

Open my blog-BIL's site first on Fridays.

I play the podcast in popup. When I can't take the time in the morning, then I open it at work, with earbuds...

My favorite was the tribute to The King.


pb
Little Poond

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

I am sick to death of the whole Iraq thing,

but that has never changed my opinion of our need to be there. Husband RJ constantly tells me that IRAQ is keeping us from being prepared for other places.

Bullcrap! I say.

So let's just pull out and prepare for the next one? The height of idiocy! There will be no next one: we are in the next one, with all others radiating from the same.

Look, we removed the stability of Saddam? Oh, I agree wholeheartedly, but his kind of stability was not better than the current slaughter. We were just able to overlook it soooo much easier. With all the sanctimonious "Tsk, tsk" we could muster over his victims.

While there are times I'm ready to let the Islamicists have all the people who refuse to fight them, there is never any doubt in my mind we will (absolutely will!) be next.

That's why I signed the petition for us to properly wage this (not THAT) war in Iraq.

Read it. You should sign it, too.

pb
Little Pond

Not an Eagle



For some weeks I have been trying to get a shot of what looked like a pair of Golden Eagles over the Chemung River, right in the city.

Not likely. This morning I saw the large wingspan, golden brown and white banded, mottled or checkered (whatever) wings of this bird.

Couldn't for the life of me identify it, so I figured that once again I've spotted some immature hawk.

Still looking for that pair of ospreys or eagles or whatever, though.

pb
Little Pond

Monday, September 03, 2007

Labor Day in Little Pond

Get some hiking boots and make sure your legs are covered. We are hunting for some of the more elusive riverfront areas on the edge of town. If you are bothered by spider webs, you should stick behind me: these trails are largely unused.

pb
Little Pond