September 22, 2017. Yesterday the CBC meteorologist said we should take today off. So I did, and went cycling between Plantagenet and Vankleek Hill, on the Russell Trail. This is Caledonia Springs, about half way along, once the site of one of the best hotels on the CPR. People would come from Montreal or Ottawa to enjoy the country and take the natural spring waters. The last hotel in the town closed in 1955. Nothing left now but a bike trail and a sign. #smallstories https://mastodon.social/media/-pUdrGfSjA-Nmgn41nc
@theartguy Every morning there are a couple of dragonflies, a katydid or two, some cave crickets, sometimes a leopard frog dead on the kitchen floor. Added to the mix today was the torn up spoor from a few stray pink packing peanuts. It made the dead bug tableau even more horrific than usual. Seeming pink bug blood strewn about. Cats will be cats and cats will be cruel. I'm just glad it wasn't a well eviscerated mouse. #smallstories.
Overheard shopping in Costco yesterday from a man asking one of the the demo folks:"Can you tell me if you know what happened to one of the older ladies here?She did demos like you. A couple of months ago I was here and someone was giving her bloody hell about some nonesense. I've been worried about her since." I nearly cried when I heard the note of concern in his voice. I feel hope for the species because of folks like him, but now I worry about her, too. Search party? #smallstories
This day. My eldest graduated from her tough, capable, under resourced, resilient high school. The ceremony was heart felt, low key, bad PowerPoint, good thoughts, pictures from the whole of their school lives.
I've known these kids since they were 5 years old. Tonight they'll be out drinking. They'll stagger home in the small hours and get on with their lives.
In the garden, the first sweet pea of the summer, a handful of ripe kumquat, and jasmine: sharp and sweet.
The man on the Post Office bench with the bag of dog treats seemed familiar. 'How's the band?' he asked, giving Duke a treat (he asked me first if it was ok). I looked at him closely now. He used to work with my wife. Retired now. He came to some early gigs many years ago now. Three or four bands ago, in fact. 'We need a singer and bass player but the rest of us are still rocking,' I answered. 'Thanks for asking.' We waved farewell and the dog and I headed off on our way. #smallstories
Somehow a wasp managed to get into the house through an opening somewhere in the wasp. I wanted to kill it, because wasps are dangerous (and Andrea *really* doesn't like them). I whacked it with my NDP membership card, but did more damage to the card than to the wasp. And I felt badly about trying to kill it. So finally, I left it alone, and the last I saw of it the wasp was climbing up the screen again. #smallstories
Last night a winged insect got into the apartment.
My cat jumped all around, trying to get close to it and chirping.
By "all around," I mostly mean "over me, repeatedly." I was sitting next to the only light source in the room, and you know how bugs are.
He has no idea what to do with prey once he catches it, though. For him, it's the thrill of the chase.
Or the thrill of standing on my head and shoulder for the height advantage.
Off to The Arts Cafe today where I have been teaching occasional Yoga Nidra classes.
It's a fairly local venue, but we don't have a car, so the 'local' part is a bit relative.
We support them and visit when we can, but I had started to feel guilty that we don't visit enough.
Guilt (and fear) are the worst kind of motivators.
I was really "filling in" for Yoga Teachers who were on holiday.
Most of the people who attended my classes said they enjoyed them and would come again.
Only one did.
This isn't a "poor me" story, but I have lost the inclination to teach any more classes at the moment.
On lots of levels, I'm feeling that it's time to move on.
#auspol #smallstories #ourbestselves Show more
So, to give birdsite its due, this thing is happening.
An Australian politician uses large toxic politics hashtag to rage against a primary school for having a "gender morphing" wear a dress day.
Everyone points out it's a well known national fundraiser for girls' education in Africa. And we're just so done with this fearmongering talk.
Donations pour in.
Primary school kids with target of $900 now have nearly $20K.
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Early '90s and a hot summer day in Seattle. I'm a self-sustaining college student and doing another double shift at the Pink Door, a once-popular Italian restaurant and cabaret in the infamous Pike Market, back when Seattle still had soul.
I was between shifts, out on the rooftop with my feet up, looking over the Puget Sound and reading.
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"What are you reading?" I turned to see Joey Arias sauntering up flamboyantly, in attire barely restaurant presentable. He was in town for some shows and he loved the Pink Door, naturally.
"Moby Dick," I said. His face lit up. "Oh... The big, white, willy! How interesting," he replied salaciously, letting the last word trail a while. "Yeah," I said, guardedly, half chuckling. He laughed and cackled and saddled up closer for a chat.
He'd never remember. I barely do.
Leaves are falling. No reason to be surprised. It's Autumn in New England (or nearly enough to say it is). Leaves fall. I've noticed a regular sequence in our neighborhood over the years. One tree just around the corner ... it's the Harbinger Tree. It goes bare before all the rest. A bush nearly hidden by brambles is always next. An old tree in back corner of fenceline is the first of ours to fall into Fall. I just now watched a leaf drop as I wrote this. Slow. Then, sudden. #smallstories
Do you have boxes of slides from pre 1980s? I do. I've been trying to figure way to convert them to digital w/o high costs. Bought cheap converter 5-7 yrs ago, which did not work well. Purchased ion FILM 2SD Plus this week based on reviews.
Instructions not clear. But I found YouTube video that helped and spent 3 hrs last night scanning about 400 slides. They look pretty good, but could use editing.
I've not looked at these in 50 yrs. Nice to see old memories. #smallstories
#smallstories Pre-dawn, a storm rolls in from the southwest, a wet clipper tacking north.The rising sun fills its sails with a suffuse orange light.I'm making hot lemon water for my wife. As it nears a boil, I feel a lightning-thunder call & response from the deep distance.The kitchen windows frame the sheep in the lower pasture.Orangey wool.I pour the water, breathing as it flows, a curled stream onto the lemons.I look up. Here.Now.Done.One. https://mastodon.social/media/JzR_jVIdmbs3r07o3fw
The phone rang. "Is Sibyl there?" Sedately I replied, "Sibyl is not. Who is this?" Then began the rapid-fire spiel: support Trump blah blah. "Excuse me," I interjected. Not a pause. Louder and louder then I begged him to excuse me until I was raging at the top of my lungs. Finally he listened. Softly, "Sibyl is deceased. Please don't call again." Hung up and burst into tears—first in months.
The need for courtesy is always legitimate. We never know what one may be holding.
@Algot has me thinking about retirement. No immediate plans to do so, but I told my students the other day that I can be forced into it. If Kentucky, like Georgia, allows for conceal carry on campuses, then I will retire. They asked me why and I said, "Would you trust other students to have guns around you?" I waited for a response. I heard one of my students mutter. "Speak up, " I said, looking at him. He cleared his throat and spoke with some feeling, "Hell, no!" #smallstories
I oscillate between farm work and school work on Sundays. I just moved our sheep fence. As I was passing time, I came across the creature in the image below. Sometimes I forget that Kentucky is a semi-tropical rainforest for nearly 8 months of the year. My eyes miss much that is magical. Not this time. I have never seen its like, nor has Google Image. I could find magic like this every day if I chose to. No hyperbole. Why don't I? #smallstories https://mastodon.social/media/LL3nAaYVs3gv8sfyGqk https://mastodon.social/media/_7ot_Ky77ISBJnQi1gY
Coffee cooling in my mug still slides nicely down my throat as I write this Sunday morning.
There's no rush to the process of either taking the next sip or writing another paragraph.
Later, maybe some light yard work. Some leaves have dropped early, and there's no rush to clear the lawn before snow covers it.
Fall is richly peaceful, especially now that I'm retired and not pressing forward with lessons for another batch of students.