Unexpected bonus

...of being willing to walk the frosty wet river bank after the snow. Naturally I bundled Ellie in a sweater and scarf, while I wore my winter walking coat and heavy headband.

Freezing temps prevented me from taking many shots, but when I saw this beauty, I forgot the cold and zoomed in for a photo. A pileated woodpecker.

This bird is half the size of Ellie. About two feet tall. Completely untouched photo. Double click to blow it up. We never got closer then about the full length of a football field.

Very gratifying.

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Fall back this weekend.

Ellie and I enjoyed our visit to the river today.

Enjoy

I also did a little alone stuff, while she hunted on Foster Island.

Tonight we will set back the clocks to gain an extra few weeks of sunlight in the morning. Sounds good to me; I am tired of waking up to the bleak blackness.

Good news! We expect to be completely laid off this summer. I am more than ready; the commute is killing me. Gannett will move us to our temporary quarters in November.

Frankly, I don't care where we work. Just let's get it over with. It's been a miserable half year. We have adjusted, but don't like it any better than before.

I want out, and I'm getting out in another ten months.

Enough said.

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Little Pond

I miss my blogs.

We are just about seven months into my new lifestyle. I am chronically tired, because now, for the first time since MS entered my consciousness, I cannot rest at midday.

My car went the way of my naps, and I now own a Malibu. Definitely not the end of the world, but not my style. Between the car payments and the huge gasoline consumption, we have no cash for anything, and no longer pay down our debts incurred from raising teenagers. The banks raised the apr's on anything and everything they could. We barely make minimums, and we buy only food.

We are now unable to maintain our home as we should. The paint never went on the outside, and the roof will not see new shingles anytime in the foreseeable future, whether I do the work myself or not. Our walkways are literally crumbling into rubble.

Yes, I looked into early retirement, but the 401K was ravaged by the crash on Wall Street, and is only now beginning to make its excruciatingly slow recovery. And of course, there is the debt. I had figured two to three years to clean it up. Now it is anybody's guess. Certainly not two to three years.

In eighteen months my job will have flown to Michigan. Is it Michigan? I don't remember, and it is irrelevant. Too far to commute from Upstate New York.

I had planned to write my books and my blogs when I retired from the paper. Now retirement from the paper will be a ticket to a parttime job somewhere closer to home. If work is actually available, then even that will be a blessing. Right now, there is no work, no advertisements, nothing but a very slow increase in the highly specialized jobs that disappeared in the crash.

Yes, I am lucky to have a job. I reach into the attic for old clothes to alter when anything I wear is totally worn out or just ruined. The laugh's on me. I was skinnier in the waist until I turned fifty. Now middle-aged spread makes most old clothes unsuitable for me. Ironically, my hips are thinner than before, so everything fits everywhere except at the waistline.

No time to walk the river on weekdays; I spend at least eleven hours of every work day in Binghamton or on the road commuting. This too, will increase; our offices will move just before Thanksgiving, and will add 15-20 minutes onto my commute. If I hear one more person tell me that "that's not bad, just a few minutes more," I will slap whomever it is. One minute more than my hour and a half commute is just too much to contemplate.

I've already had an exacerbation. Very short, just a day or so, but terrifying. My sight went completely out of whack, enough so that I wondered if I were having a mini-stroke, like my Dad had a few years back. Just once, thank the powers that govern the universe. Again, one too many.

I want to blog, I want to write, and I want to walk the river. But after each work day, I am too tired, and the weekends are only two days.

Photo of the week

Daddy Darrell can always make Violet smile. Real smiles of recognition. Best milestone yet.

Sorry if you're disappointed

But the Riverhag has been busy visiting with the GrandKid on weekends. These are our holiday shots of the Chemung. Go to the RiverDogging link on the side for more low river shots.

As for those who want more baby photos: maybe tomorrow.

Off to Binghamgton.

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Little Pond

Stereotypes will out, sometimes.

Yeah, the only time I post now is to put up yet another batch of baby pics.

Lucky I have time for that, these days. Back to work tomorrow.

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Little Pond.

Sunny Saturday

Spotted a huge tiger-striped bass or muskie, while birding. Brought home a very poor shot, because the river wouldn't cooperate. I gave it up after about six tries.

I tried to catch a heron doing his thing near the spillover, when I spotted a very unusual heron. I snapped away until I ran out of batteries.

This is not the first one I've seen. It can't be an egret, because there is no fancy plumage. Looks like a white heron, pure and simple.

Almost makes up for the miserable, rainy Sunday. So wet that even the waterfowl wouldn't come out to pose.

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Little Pond

One more thing on the road to the looney bin.

Cool summer in Upstate

I know everyone doesn't agree with me, but the cool summer has been a blessing. MS'ers can enjoy the beautiful green world.

With only weekends to enjoy the outside world, I am personally glad that we are not having a hot, dry summer.

I take Ellie to the River every chance we get.

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Little Pond

Pup-sitting.

My last outing with Jake and Ellie. Jake went back to learn to live with little Violet. Ellie stayed with us. She and Jake love to mix it up with puppy-wrassling. It's a lovely, noisy, scrappy affair, and it's all in fun, but too much racket for the baby's first week.

Ellie's been to the river a lot this week, and there will be new photos soon, but for now:

Bout a week now.

6 pounds, 7 ounces 2:09PM EST

Welcome, Little Violet Meadow Johns.

What I miss the most

Now that I commute 1 1/2 hours each way, each day, to work, it's a no brainer. I miss the River and I miss my Riverdog and my naps.

It is beginning to look like it all is temporary.

Both of my riders/drivers are looking actively for local work. Supposedly so am I. For me, it's all online; there is nothing in the newspaper for two days per week. Literally nothing, no want ads. Wednesday and Thursday are negligible, because the real deal is 3 days Friday to Sunday. Those days the ads are looking for young professionals, mostly schools, government or charity. Some are worth considering.

Naturally there is no newspaper work. After all, the upcoming demise of print publishing is what got my whole mess started. I will wind up grabbing anything, anything, local when push gets to shove. Then I will find something to do from the computer. Even two part time jobs will allow me to regroup locally.

One thing is certain: I will not be able to afford commuting on my own. Right now a weeks worth of gas would be 50-60 bucks. That's what it costs me the times I drive. Add the recently purchased car at $150 per month, and the privilege of working in Binghamton would cost me $350 commuter costs alone. Then subtract out a day's pay every two weeks for the recession-related furlough.

Something local that pays significantly less would still pay.

Recessions are complicated messes, aren't they?

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Little Pond

From Kiddy Sling

To Kitty Sling!

Not what the manufacturer's had in mind. My SIL with the grandkitty, getting in practice for the real deal. Baby Violet Meadow Johns due in three weeks.

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Little Pond

Getting closer...

BabyMama, alias MamaDog, showing off her healthy pregnancy. Our little Violet Meadow is due in about three weeks. This is at a baby shower hosted by her InLaws. Nice people.

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LittlePond

The meeting of the mutts.

There's a new mutt in town. Frank seems to be pure dachshund, and he's still a pup.

Immediate tussling! The pup rolls over and gives Ellie his belly whenever it gets too rough. He's a rescue from the SPCA, where MammaDog is the Volunteer Coordinator.

Frankie's mom is VeggieGirl, who's been wanting a dog for some time. Frankie is a bit of a handful, but he will settle in. Little jerk dumped on my living room carpet, just to show us who's boss. Ellie was non-plussed.

What is it about dachshunds and pooping in new situations? Ellie grew out of it, thank heavens.

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Little Pond