One final shot

If you can stand the cuteness.Bubba watches in frustration as our boldest squirrel pointedly ignores him.

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Little Pond

Soggy Walk; Hunting at Home

Boy, if we don't get more sun than I've seen in the past few weeks, I'm going to experience dry rot.

Accordingly, I grabbed the HuggaMutt and stuffed her into a rain slicker, and out we went.Once we get past the initial disgust at the confining overcoat, we managed to slog around a good hour. My little buddy hunted as best she could, but we never saw much fauna until we went home.

More on that later, I hope.

Bingo! What a mess! Click here to go to RJ's Garden.

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Little Pond

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 murmered 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

My great-uncle "Harry" Lamb never came home. He was my grandfather's best friend.

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Little Pond

Here we go again.

With our stock at 1/7 of its January 2008 value, there will be layoffs, right before Christmas.

This time there's a buyout offer. We have the option of voluntarily leaving and getting the same package. Most of us don't qualify for Social Security, and with the economy tanking, we aren't likely to find work elsewhere.

Past layoffs were based on seniority: new people were selected, it was temporary, and after several weeks, they could expect to return.

This time, though, it's severance, and the selection process is a different calculation. Whatever job they deem superfluous or too costly gets the ax. "Too costly" could include old-timers who are paid more than newbies. After thirteen years, I am an old timer; real old timers got it last year.

As my daughter, the VeggieGirl, noted: I am always on notice for layoff, so what's the difference? The difference is that I have been caught in several layoffs in my life, and we never quite recover. They lay waste to our lifestyle, ruin our credit, and in general, trash my self-esteem.

On the other hand, frequent layoffs tend to leave survivors glad to be working. Even if they are tough on the nerves.

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Little Pond

Why I am still glad I didn't vote Obama.

Yeah, I know: we gotta get behind him. Okay, that is not a problem. This is the first election in a long time that was really electric. I wanted my guy, McCain to win, and still believe that he was the best man, with the much more impressive political record and life experience to back it up.

Still, Barack Obama is in, and I not devastated. He seems a good guy, a little youngish to my tastes, but the deed is done.

Let the president-elect be on notice: half of all citizen voters did not feel he was the man for the job, and were not impressed with his ideology.

Mr. Obama has a lot to prove. He'd better rest up over the next two months.

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I am dismayed by the anti-gay marriage balloting in California. How could they have voted down a law that the people essentially wanted?

Word is that the Church of LDS and other religious right groups pushed and shoved from both inside and outside the state. I can't say it's wrong, because only the Californians voted.

Andrew Sullivan, one of my blog ancestors, had this to say.

And afterwards, this.

Let's hope he's right.

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Little Pond

If you haven't voted,

...what are you doing surfing the Internet?



Get out and vote!

Two books.

As of this morning, I am writing two books. My latest Josephine book is going slowly, even though I am not agonizing over every little detail.

Something else was bothering me, impeding its progress.

I finally got some relief just before I got out of bed: the new book began spilling out.

It's too early to say much, but this one will be an historical novel. The dragon books required so much research, that I no longer have time for video games. The scouring for proper details has awakened a long-dormant aspect of my writer's self.

Research is something I do automatically on just about everything, even simple trivia questions. When I work a crossword puzzle, it seems a waste if I don't learn something new each time. It's my policy to look up words I don't recognize. Occasionally, if time allows, I will Google an answer that happened without my knowing it.

For instance, this morning I learned about Ringolevio, a street game. We played it, too, only in the snow. We called it Fox and Geese, unaware of the board games. I never heard of Ringolevio, but sure enough, there were the same rules, right down to the rescue of trapped geese.

So my new book will require a huge amount of research, and I will be happily humming along for many, many months before I can pull it together enough to talk about it.

Isn't serendipity a joy?

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Little Pond