Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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Our four children

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Our eight grandchildren

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This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.

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We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.

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 Nice is different than good.

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Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

> Jennifer <

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

  

Hoist The Colors

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Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

> Ralph Waldo Emerson <

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Represent:

The Black Velvet Coat

Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

> Jenny the Pirate <

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks

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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

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THE DREAMERS

In the dawn of the day of ages,
 In the youth of a wondrous race,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw the marvel,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw God's face.


On the mountains and in the valleys,
By the banks of the crystal stream,
He wandered whose eyes grew heavy
With the grandeur of his dream.

The seer whose grave none knoweth,
The leader who rent the sea,
The lover of men who, smiling,
Walked safe on Galilee --

All dreamed their dreams and whispered
To the weary and worn and sad
Of a vision that passeth knowledge.
They said to the world: "Be glad!

"Be glad for the words we utter,
Be glad for the dreams we dream;
Be glad, for the shadows fleeing
Shall let God's sunlight beam."

But the dreams and the dreamers vanish,
The world with its cares grows old;
The night, with the stars that gem it,
Is passing fair, but cold.

What light in the heavens shining
Shall the eye of the dreamer see?
Was the glory of old a phantom,
The wraith of a mockery?

Oh, man, with your soul that crieth
In gloom for a guiding gleam,
To you are the voices speaking
Of those who dream their dream.

If their vision be false and fleeting,
If its glory delude their sight --
Ah, well, 'tis a dream shall brighten
The long, dark hours of night.

> Edward Sims Van Zile <

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Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts

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Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."

And We'll Sing It All The Time
  • Elements Series: Fire
    Elements Series: Fire
    by Peter Kater
  • Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    by Danny Wright
  • Grace
    Grace
    Old World Records
  • The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    Stone Angel Music, Inc.
  • Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Real Music
  • Copia
    Copia
    Temporary Residence Ltd.
  • The Poet: Romances for Cello
    The Poet: Romances for Cello
    Spring Hill Music
  • Nightfall
    Nightfall
    Narada Productions, Inc.
  • Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    RCA
  • The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    by William Voegeli
  • The Art of Memoir
    The Art of Memoir
    by Mary Karr
  • The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    by Emily Dickinson
  • Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    by John W. Harper
  • On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    by William Zinsser
  • Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    by Steven Milloy
  • The Amateur
    The Amateur
    by Edward Klein
  • Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    by Matt Barber, Paul Hair
  • In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    by Dr. Laura Schlessinger
  • Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    by Tod Benoit
  • Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    by Candace Savage
  • Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    by John Marzluff Ph.D., Tony Angell
  • Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    by Andrew Breitbart
  • 11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    by Paul Kengor
  • Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    by Bernd Heinrich
  • Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    by Matthew Rolston
  • Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    by Todd Harra, Ken McKenzie
  • America's Steadfast Dream
    America's Steadfast Dream
    by E. Merrill Root
  • Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    by Alexandra Day
  • Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    by Lynne Truss
  • The American Way of Death Revisited
    The American Way of Death Revisited
    by Jessica Mitford
  • In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    Master Books
  • Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    by Peter Schweizer
  • Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    by Brannon Howse
  • Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    by Eleanor Alexander
Easy On The Goods
  • Waiting for
    Waiting for "Superman"
    starring Geoffrey Canada, Michelle Rhee
  • The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    starring Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Debbie Reynolds, Barry Fitzgerald, Rod Taylor
  • Bernie
    Bernie
    starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine, Matthew McConaughey
  • Remember the Night
    Remember the Night
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, Beulah Bondi, Elizabeth Patterson, Sterling Holloway
  • The Ox-Bow Incident
    The Ox-Bow Incident
    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
  • The Bad Seed
    The Bad Seed
    starring Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack, Henry Jones, Eileen Heckart, Evelyn Varden
  • Shadow of a Doubt
    Shadow of a Doubt
    starring Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Macdonald Carey, Patricia Collinge, Henry Travers
  • The More The Merrier
    The More The Merrier
    starring Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, Charles Coburn, Bruce Bennett, Ann Savage
  • Act of Valor
    Act of Valor
    starring Alex Veadov, Roselyn Sanchez, Nestor Serrano
  • Deep Water
    Deep Water
    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
  • Sunset Boulevard
    Sunset Boulevard
    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
  • Penny Serenade
    Penny Serenade
    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
  • Double Indemnity
    Double Indemnity
    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
  • Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    starring Gary Anthony Williams
  • Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Passion River
  • It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert
  • Stella Dallas
    Stella Dallas
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
  • The Iron Lady
    The Iron Lady
    starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Harry Lloyd, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach
  • Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    starring Peter Sallis, Anne Reid, Sally Lindsay, Melissa Collier, Sarah Laborde
  • The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    starring Red Balloon
  • Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    starring William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger, Robert Strauss, Harvey Lembeck
  • The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    starring Ginger Rogers, Ray Milland
  • My Dog Skip
    My Dog Skip
    starring Frankie Muniz, Diane Lane, Luke Wilson, Kevin Bacon
  • Sabrina
    Sabrina
    starring Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, Walter Hampden, John Williams
  • The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    starring Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, Shirley Temple, Rudy Vallee, Ray Collins
  • Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    starring Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Jack Davenport
  • Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    starring Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Gladys Cooper, John Loder
  • The Trip To Bountiful
    The Trip To Bountiful
  • Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
    Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999 - 2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

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~ RIP SHILOH ~

2017 - 2021

My Tar Heel Granddog

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~ RIP RAMBO ~

2008 - 2022

Andrew's Beloved Pet

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Friday
Oct312014

Boo-ful girl

#scarednotscared

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Happy Friday ~ Happy Weekend

Wednesday
Oct292014

Quid pro quo? No.

Because I did this, you must now do that.

I've always been there for you. Therefore you owe me.

Hey you! Don't you see what I did there? Your turn.

Right?

Wrong.

I had to chuckle at an article I read a week or so ago. It told the sad tale of a man who, having gone out of his way not once, not twice, but many times to contribute to the coffers of an elderly female panhandler, discovered that she had been -- ahem -- misrepresenting her financial situation.

Said female held herself out as a widow who could not afford food. I'm guessing there was hand-lettered signage involved. Apparently she occupied the same space on street or sidewalk regularly, petitioning passers-by for cash and coin.

The subject young man, moved by the old woman's plight, had over time favored her with considerable monetary support, even going out of his way to do so.

Until the day, happening by her customary begging spot, he saw her easing her aged bones behind the wheel of a late-model sports car.

Red.

And in modern-day parlance, he lost it.

As in, he flipped out on the lady, publicly. Cursing. Screaming. Calling her a dirty liar. Pointing at his own car, which he said was not as nice as hers. Reminding her over and over of the dollar amounts he'd sacrificed to her bogus cause. Claiming he'd denied himself food so that she could eat.

Naturally the whole scene was captured on the phone of another aggrieved Good Samaritan, who promptly uploaded the profane diatribe.

You guessed it: the vid went viral.

Righteous indignation is very popular these days. Outrage ensued.

But wait a minute.

If I make a bad investment, assuming I made it of my own volition, I have no one to blame but myself.

There's a Latin expression for it: Caveat emptor. Buyer beware.

Back to our benevolent indignant young man, noisily accosting the old woman as she cowered in the driver's seat of the red car, accusing her of having snookered him and placing all the blame for his present anguish squarely on her sagging shoulders.

Having willingly contributed to her prosperity, he was offended to learn that the elderly woman had an automobile at her disposal. Adding insult to injury, the car was nicer than the one he drove.

I'm sorry sir, but when adding her lack of integrity to your lack of judgment, what we have is a wash.

That zero-sum-game thing rears its ugly head.

Speaking of honesty, when it comes to giving, be up-front enough to admit it when, instead of charity, what you're really practicing is enlightened self-interest.

In other words, when you gave, you expected something in return. Meaning, it wasn't really a gift. It was a tacit bargain you hoped to strike with the fortunate recipient of your largesse.

More Latin: Quid pro quo. Something for something.

In the case at hand, it is clear to me that in return for his money, the young angry man expected the beggar to remain (or at least actually be) poor and needy.

Why? For her sake? Or because that scenario enabled him to go on congratulating himself for being the very soul of kindness (or at least not a sucker)?

(By the way, I get it. I realize the woman is wrong for what she did, if in fact she's guilty. Lying is bad; don't do it. But also don't miss my point.)

Because see, here's another fact of life, in straight English this time: In the same way that giving is voluntary, no matter how much you give, or how often, nobody owes you anything.

And nobody owes me anything.

Oh, there are things we hope to receive in return for investments we make. For good deeds, or in consideration of offices we hold, or owing to familial ties, or in light of past (or present) declarations of devotion, we hope to reap some form of reward.

We enjoy being recognized for the good we do. We like receiving presents -- or other benefits -- from those of whom we have been thoughtful. It's human and perfectly natural to crave love from those we love. And yes, we hope for honesty and forthrightness in our dealings with others, whether casual or deliberate.

But there are no guarantees. Due to the free will of every person, there's no promise, explicit or implicit, that our acts of kindness, whether random or planned, will garner us the desired result, or will rack up for us the hoped-for number of brownie points.

So if I'm going to give, I must really give. As in, give, then let go. What the recipient does with my gift is none of my business. Try as you or I might, we won't succeed in holding anyone to our arbitrary self-styled standard.

Because you may as well go outside tomorrow morning and attempt to hold back the dawn, to keep the babies from crying and the dogs from barking and the birds from singing for the space of a day, as to go about trying to make someone love you, or respect you, or admire your actions, or feel gratitude towards you.

These gifts can only be freely given. That's what makes them so precious.

And when/if we find out we've truly been taken advantage of? We can waste our time being angry with the taker, but it's best to admit we made a bad investment and move on to the next opportunity. Opportunities to give are, after all, limitless.

Either way, it's a choice we're free to make.

And that is all for now.

Friday
Oct242014

Meanwhile, back on the collective noun front

I love black stuff -- black is beautiful, don't you know -- and black birds are no exception.

Remember my grackle? From Charleston? A few years ago? You don't? Oh well then, I will re-post his video at the end of this.

Anyway, few things fascinate me more than terms for groups of things, animals -- the creature collective, as it were -- in particular.

I mean, who having heard A Murder of Crows can resist wondering what other crittergroups are called? Like, school of fish or swarm of bees or gaggle of geese or tincture of flies, but oh-so-much better?

So here are a few, with a side of commentary by moi, for your amusement and wonder on this fine day.

(Oh and I made one a few of them up! Out of thin air! Extra credit if you can guess which one(s).)

A Hover of Trout (I like mine dusted with lemon pepper and lightly grilled.)

A Herd of Wrens (Really? A herd? Of little bitty wrens? Shut the door.)

A Pitying of Turtledoves (Can't you hear them feeling sorry for themselves? I can.)

A Venue of Vultures (I'm digging the alliteration and I totes luv buzzards.)

A Wake of Buzzards (Speaking of which ...)

A Generation of Vipers (I'm digging the Biblical overtones; see Matthew 23.)

A Muster of Storks (Hold the ketchup.)

A Rout of Snails (Beware the coming snail rout. #doomsdayprepper #clarifysomebutter)

An Exaltation of Larks (I bet you've heard that one before.)

A Lounge of Lizards (Complete with beer bellies.)

A Cackle of Hyenas (Ha, they do more than cackle, but okay.)

A Charm of Hummingbirds (Awwwwww.)

A Relish of Meerkat (They are such hot dogs.)

A Zeal of Zebras (Because wearing black and white exclusively -- a la Coco Chanel -- is the very essence of sartorial enthusiasm.)

A Leash of Greyhounds (I have it on good authority that they prefer leashlessness.)

A Memory of Elephants (I forget why, but this makes perfect sense.)

A Crash of Hippopotamus (Dude. Get out of the way already.)

A Coalition of Cheetahs (Or, the Democrat party.)

A Shrewdness of Ape (Takeaway: Do not buy a used pre-owned car from a primate.)

An Obstinacy of Buffalo (However, counterintuitively but no less true, the more obstinate you are, the less likely you are to be buffaloed. Up to a certain point. Particularly useful when shopping for a used car.)

A Piteousness of Doves (Crybabies. But I do so adore the mourning variety.)

A Business of Ferret (Their tiny genuine leather briefcases are so cute.)

A Kettle of Hawk (No thanks.)

A Smack of Jellyfish (Moral: Do not talk smack to a jellyfish or you'll be toast.)

A Mischief of Mouse (Yes. No.)

A Trip of Dotterel (Not doggerel; dotterel. Look it up.)

A Fling of Dunlin (Confession: I had to look them both up.)

A Parliament of Owl (The one that hit me in the head was a disgrace to the office.)

A Company of Parrot (They are fine company but bear in mind: Loose lips sink ships.)

A Coterie of Prairie Dog (If that didn't make you smile and swallow at least one r, just imagine their little berets.)

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And now ... Folly Beach Grackle Song by Jennifer Weber *deep curtsy*

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Happy Friday ~ Happy Weekend

Tuesday
Oct212014

Circular reasoning

Hey I bet you missed me when I didn't post yesterday.

Well the reason is, I have a bad cold. But it vexes me to type that because I usually don't blog about my health, since it couldn't be of remotest interest to anyone.

I have been known to stop following really nice bloggers with cute blogs because they natter on endlessly about their aches and pains.

Give me a break. 

But see, I was driving home from Knoxville on Sunday when this threepenny-nail-like pressure began to invade my skull somewhere above my right ear.

Since I despise road trips (especially the part where you go home) and I quadruple-loathe road trips that take place on Sunday, I thought I was simply stressed out.

By the way guess what? I love to go places but hate to travel. When I do travel, I refuse to fly so it has to be by car, and I don't like that either but if it must be on wheels, I prefer to be the one behind the wheel.

Only, I really don't enjoy driving.

If you can figure all that out, call me up and tell me what it means. But bear in mind, I don't like talking on the phone.

And don't mention my meds -- or lack of same -- because I won't discuss that either.

Anyway back to Sunday when my head started hurting and traffic around Asheville was a hairy yellow-fanged beast and I became annoyed.

A few minutes later I realized I was also stuffed up -- as in, my nose felt funny -- but honestly, I put that down to the altitude. I was after all in the mountains.

What do I know? I haven't had a cold in nearly eighteen months. One tends to forget.

But by that night, I knew I was in trouble. Yesterday came the incessant sneezing. I've been sleeping a lot.

My head does not seem to want to come up off my pillow. It feels like a buzzy bowling ball.

Oh! Have you seen the Puffs softpack tissues? I love those things. LOVE THEM. The packages, I mean; a tissue is a tissue. But the soft pillowy packages! They're so so so so so so cute I can barely stand it.

But I digress.

On my trip to Knoxville I took lots of pictures. Consistent with my personality (don't ask but if you do, the word Oppressive Obsessive will come up and yes with a capital O) I'm not a very organized photographer; I tend to go by emotion rather than rely on any sort of established method or system.

Even so, I began to notice circles. Now, I LOVE circles. Don't ask me why! I just do.

That picture of Rambo up there at the top has a circle and I hope you see it because to me it simply glares. I'll give you a hint: It's on Andrew's Weber grill.

On which he fixed us hamburgers on Saturday night last. Smoky circles of beefy joy on soft round buns!

I ate mine before I could memorialize it with a burger selfie but use your imagination.

You already know that on Wednesday my son showed me around the Tennessee Air National Guard base where he works as a boom operator.

The double circles of the KC-135 Stratotanker engines made for an interesting subject.

Then there was the round graphic on the plane's nose, which circle featured a gas pump and the Rat Fink dispensing Fink-O-Lene. You've already seen it but we can't leave him out of the loop.

On Thursday, Erica and I walked the campus of one-hundred-ninety-five-year-old Maryville College, absorbing the ambience of southern academia in the sweetly cool East Tennessee autumn.

Can you spot the circles in my picture of the cupola atop postbellum Anderson Hall?

The building is one hundred forty-four years old and, as part of a comprehensive renovation that's nearly complete, has been fitted with one hundred forty-four brand-new windows.

(Although as a rule I dislike math, four is by far my favorite number and forty-four? Or one hundred forty-four? Shut the front door.)

I don't gamble because I don't believe in it but if I did? Well. You know.

And then there were the circles I found in downtown Knoxville on our wanderings, maybe even in a big circle, around one of the most charming small cities in Dixie. Delights abound everywhere you look.

There were circular windows reflecting the October sky, and round signs, and O's in names, and circles built into metal fences, and a ring-shaped parking lot marker.

There was a circle within a square embedded high in the wall of a Victorian-era brick industrial structure.

There was the exceedingly fetching Gay Street Clock, its face a circle within which nestles a circle of neon.

The next day -- Friday -- my children indulged me in a visit to Knoxville's Old Gray Cemetery, a historic marvel. We walked the lanes and again there were circles, like the tightly-wound concentric ones on tombstones furry with moss.

At least one grave figure seemed to be offering a wreath to someone, anyone, walking by who may need a circle of stone flowers.

Here: Take it, she seemed to beckon.

The wrought-iron gates of Old Gray are a profusion of curlicues and circular patterns.

Eventually I came full circle: I arrived back home in Columbia, with a cold riding shotgun.

I humbly accept your prayers and wishes that I will get well soon.

Meanwhile I hope you are not sick or hurting, but that your eyes are round with wonder.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

Friday
Oct172014

Jenny from the sim

So yes, I went into the training simulator used by the 134th Air Refueling Wing, 151st Air Refueling Squadron, at McGhee Tyson Air National Guard Base, Tennessee.

And I refueled an F-22 and a C-5. For real.

Sort of.

I'm prissy as you know so I guess it was a sight to see when I clambered on all-fours into that tiny space and wriggled on my belly onto this narrow ergonomically-correct cot-like thing and put my feet into metal braces out behind me that I could not actually see, and rested my chin on the little black padded thing provided for that purpose.

Once I got into place and had been assured by Andrew that no military-type males would be looking in there on me, judging, I was all excited.

New experiences; I'm all about that.

Sort of.

Once I'd gotten all comfy and acclimated, Andrew suggested that I scoot over to one of the similar cot-like things on either side of the boom's space.

He got all serious and businesslike so I busied myself taking pictures of my son, handsome even in low light and close quarters.

The boy made me wear earphones just like his for a while but I took them off because I was certain they were mussing my hair.

I got schooled in where the controls are and what they mean and what they do. I remember everything he told me.

Sort of.

Then it was my turn to actually refuel an aircraft while in flight.

First up was the F-22. Fighter jet, my friends. See that little fake pilot?

The monster C-5 came later.

I was still excited but I concentrated more because I wanted Andrew to be proud of me.

And he told me I made a perfect contact.

It wasn't scary at all because I remembered the whole time that we'd never left the ground.

After I'd refueled the C-5 -- another perfect contact, tank you -- we walked around the facility where Andrew goes to work every day, and he introduced me to a few of his fellow boom operators, plus several pilots.

One fine gentleman in uniform asked if I were proud of my son and of course I said Of course.

And he said, Well you should be because he's one of only twenty-five boom operators in the whole State of Tennessee.

Another uniformed gentleman standing beside the first one chimed in, And one of only nine-hundred-eighty boom operators in the world.

Oh.

I am even prouder than I thought I was, and that's a lot.

Daggy says Way to go, Uncle Andrew. She's here in Knoxville with us, as is her mother and her Aunt Erica.

That's what Dagny does every single morning as soon as she wakes up: V for victory. Curled fists, ready for action.

So then Andrew drove me out in a special bus to the flight line, where we walked around some more and then I actually got inside a KC-135 Stratotanker.

I had to climb this ladder straight up fifteen feet, a feat I accomplished deftly and with style.

Sort of.

Andrew showed me the actual boom pod where he does his job, and it wasn't nearly as nice as the one in the sim. The KC-135 Stratotankers are sixty years old, after all.

Here's the nose of the one I climbed into. They dole out Fink-O-Lene. Price per gallon: 2 Much.

The engines are big and you don't want birds getting slurped into the blades while you're airborne.

My baby hopped right on up in there. He be spry.

Here he is, showing me something.

And posing.

And posing yet again, for posterity, sweet obedient adventurous son that he is.

These photos were taken on Wednesday, when it was overcast and cool. Today there is not a cloud in the East Tennessee sky and the high is forecast for nearly eighty degrees.

Dagny is dressed for the occasion.

Decked out in pink with black polka dots, black lace, and pearls, secure in the arms of her doting Uncle Andrew, she's ready for an adventure of her own.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday ~ Happy Weekend