Too Hot

I'm so glad I went photoblogging yesterday. This is the only one worth keeping.

A little story: My coworker from Troy, PA, hates Elmira. He was crowing that there was a mention of Elmira in a television program. CSI, I think. Definitely one of those investigation shows. They mention that they are going to Elmira to interview someone about a crime. When they get there, the people have a cow on their front lawn. He absolutely chortled with glee.

Well, I can tell you there are no cows in the city of Elmira. It's against the local ordinances or code or whatever. Can't even have a chicken or a kennel. The surrounding Town of Elmira may allow it in some districts.

The above photo is taken a tad down river from my usual stomps, although it is still in the city. Because of the "Great" flood of 1972, there is a lot of land that, while not pristine, cannot by law be developed for business or residence.

Already it is so hot and so dry that I was able to stand in the river bed and take this shot. I also took several small video clips. Without a tripod, they are not good enough to post. Not sure how I would include them, anyway.

That's a story for another post.

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Little Pond

God Bless the Martyrs of Our Freedom.

Armistice - And Irony

I can see them yet, as they marched away,
So debonair, so brave, so gay!
I can see them yet, as they turned to wave,
The smiles erased from their faces grave.
And as I stood there, turned to stone,
The sun's last glint from their rifles shone.

I can still see my Mother, with face so white
And my Father, standing so still,
Trying to think that all was right,
Trying to feel like it was God's will.
Yes, we all tried to be as brave as they,
As my husband and brother marched away.

After many a weary month and long
Came the news, more cheering than the happiest song.
The whistles were blowing, the bells were ringing.
Everywhere people were shouting and singing.
"The War is over at last" cried they,
And the sad old World became hysteric'ly gay.
We looked at each other through tears of joy
And Mother murmured softly, "My boy, my boy!".

Happy plans for their return we made.
I tremble even now, as these mem'ries fade.
"Killed in action", the telegram bore.
"Killed in action"; weary brain repeated o'er and o'er.
Yes, the bells were ringing,
They should have tolled!
The sound of bells will turn me faint and cold
Forevermore.
My brother had died the day before.


Josephine Abby Lamb Baker

They also serve who remain at home and suffer loss.

Happy Memorial Day Weekend

Just a quick greeting to you all, in case I don't get another chance. Worked a 13 hour shift last night and am a little incoherent. Three hours' sleep doesn't cut it anymore.

I just soaked and pampered my legs, in preparation for the bare leg season. A little blogging, and then a glass of beer and more rest, alcohol inducement intended. I have no holiday this year, since we have four people out of a 10 person department gone to have babies or take vacation.

It just fell to me this year to do the work of 2 supervisors on top of my own duties Memorial Day. That's why I worked around the clock yesterday. No telling what will await me Monday.

Say a prayer for the safety of our soldiers, and a thank you for our veterans.

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Little Pond

RiverHagging

Ellie is at her new home in Elmira Northside, so I went without her. Just me, so this isn't RiverDogging. Got a few photos, and am tweaking a post. It's up, but I am just re-learning Blogger, so the photos are coming out the size I want just yet.

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Little Pond

Tell me I'm not alone...

Am I the only housewife in the Northeast who simply cannot get the spring cleaning and storage done this year?

Mid-May and all I've done is pulled down a few jackets and stored a few coats. Forget the cleaning, forget the summer things, forget the attic entirely.

If it were not for birthday money and Mother's Day, I wouldn't have anything to wear on the warm days.

Another frost expected tonight. Looks like the spare bedroom will stay full of seedlings for another week.

Hey. Can anyone tell me about small ceiling fans, with light kit AND remote control? We have a very small dining room and our antique hanging tulip lamp is beginning to seem unrepairable.

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Little Pond

Got fooled.

Now I wish I kept the photo. But any Googling of Ridgeback will turn up similar dogs. Why would anyone want to breed for that sort of thing? Looks just like an abused dog...

Don't ever fool yourself (Hah! Learned a valuable lesson.)

The rest of the post stands.

...into thinking that pit bulls enjoy fighting. All dogs will fight to protect themselves. And to do their jobs for their masters. Cesar Millan says that pit bulls are bred as gladiators, and that's true, but they simply want to belong to their masters and will fight when properly encouraged.

We received a very terrible photo, that I will not publish, from Dennis and Shelley, who frequently share anecdotes, jokes and photos with us. The dog looked like the HuggaMutt, only larger, with a horrible burn down her back. It looked deliberate, and must have caused her excruciating pain. No doubt she will need to be euthanized. Not. Should have published the pic.

The phrase "Hang the last dog" to mean stay out to the wee hours, sounds suspiciously like it comes from the fighting pits. The losers would be hanged by their owners, if they survived, as were the winners, if they were too wounded to fight again. I remember seeing this years ago, long before the Internet. Can we get a verification or mythbuster on that?

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Little Pond

I am descendant from French Canadians, and fighting pits were something I heard about from others. Not just dogs. French fighting was kicking, with the arms crossed in front. Too much violence for a young mind.

Spring Visitors

This is our latest visitor, waiting for her new owner to claim her. It's already too late, she loves us and we love her. We don't have the privilege of naming her: that goes to the VeggieGirl. She will be the inhouse companion to Inzie, her first housecat, who was to be a companion to Kiwi, the hedgehog.

Another visitor this weekend was a baby squirrel, left by a neighbor who found it in the street. We were a little non-plussed by the assumption that our yard was the place to bring orphan animals. Still we dutifully fed the little critter, who came out to cuddle with Husband RJ while he was gardening. We will continue to watch for it, but don't want to further the damage done already by actively encouraging interspecies fraternization.

And yes, if you were wondering: the robins have returned to Little Pond. Husband RJ has been chasing away the marauding crows.

St. Francis, be with us! We could use all the help we can get.

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Little Pond