Time for all those holiday parties. If anything, a reminder to have some restraint in the consumption of alcohol or you might find yourself the object of desire of someone, perhaps, not so desirable to you.
Archive for December, 2009
In a twist of fate, a steam train came to the rescue of over 100 stranded commuters in England. They’ve been having a bout of severe weather and the modern electric trains were out of commission. Tornado, the first “new” steam train built in 50 years was in the area for a special “Christmas” trip for train fans. Bet these commuters were singing the praises of “old” technology.
It’s that time of year . . . when the Christmas songs have stopped, the things you bought last week go on sale for half-off, and the shop assistants have suffered a meltdown of the “little grey cells.”
I’m sure it’s a bit lonely being on the International Space Station and away from your family on Christmas but you certainly get the best view of Santa’s route around the planet. If the Artic keeps melting at it’s present rate, Santa will need to take up residence on the ISS. Might be a tight fit with all the elves and reindeer.
A very Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Kwanzaa, and Winter Solstice to you all.
I probably have enough pet stories to fill a blog of it’s own. We had a little terrier mix when my son was growing up. He named her after his favorite pizza, Mushroom. We were never quite sure what the other part of the mix was. She had wire hair around her back but only down to about her tummy. She was very protective of the family and, if something wasn’t quite right, the wire hair part would practically stand on end. I suppose she felt this made her look bigger. It did frighten the life out of more than one mailman.
I enjoy old movies. Back when they had to rely on the story more than the special effects. Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, The Big Sleep, are some of my favorite Bogart films. This fellow should be at the bar in Rick’s Café Americain. By the way, an American has opened Rick’s in Casablanca, with great attention to detail.
Snow, and lots of it! We had about a foot and a half or two feet. A real blizzard during the night. Too bad for all the kids that it arrived Saturday night and not Sunday night. Spent the day finding our cars under the drifts.
My hair’s always been pretty long. When I first moved to Long Island from Ireland in the sixties, one of my teachers was always threatening to put a bowl on my head and cut my hair. Others thought I was trying to emulate the Beatles. When “Oliver” hit the theatre’s, it was “Please, sir, I want some more.” Little did they know of my days in boarding school.
Mostly because my schedule is so unpredictable, I usually wait until I start to resemble Albert Einstein before I get it cut. I only wish it was still blonde, like this fellows. A slightly mad sailor chef.
My in-laws had an orange tabby named, “Dusty.” He was a real “cat’s cat.” He was the Ernest Hemingway of cats. When we’d visit with our cat, Pooka, no wimp himself, Dusty would purposely lose him. It cost me $20 (in 1980 dollars) to find Pooka after one of our visits. Dusty had shown him where the neighborhood sump was and left him there. Dusty walked in with a smug, “Pooka? Never heard of him!” look on his face. I had to offer the kids on the block a reward to help find our cat.
Most cats bring mice in as presents for their owners, Dusty brought a squirrel (luckily, it was still O.K. and wandered off home, if a little unsteady on his feet, when I released him).
Hemingway liked cats, too. There are still descendants of Ernest’s cat living at his home in Key West (now a museum). His cat was polydactyl (meaning it had extra toes). The in-law’s had one like that, too. But that’s another story.