Ruins...

What happened??

I need the end of this story! 

It's a requirement!

Just ask Jules.

~~~

xoabb

expect me to read the 

end of a book...first!

Spring Peeper Count-Down: Nope, not today!

There's spring chirping (at 11:43pm) but they're not Spring Peepers!

12:29 AM update:  YES YES YES - spring peepers are peeping! 

There is NO better sound in the world!

52º - must be the magic temp!

A Forgotten Phone

Last week I took Gus to the airport to catch his flight home as GB (above atop Glassy Mountain in South Carolina enjoying the incredible view along with a stogie) had a meeting and couldn't.  Because I have an issue with my left front tire (it's bald - I don't know how that happened, and I also don't want to talk about it.), I took GB's car to LGA instead of mine to drop Gus off. On the return trip, I dropped by GB's office to exchange cars. Got home and promptly realized I'd left my phone in GB's car. Called him and asked him to step out the office door and push the remote to unlock his car so I could retrieve my phone. Of course, as is par for the course (at least my course), I got sidetracked and didn't leave to get it as soon as I thought. I finally got there, tried the car door and it was locked. Minor irritation set in. Went up the steps to the office and in to find GB. 

GB:  "Where have you been? I thought you were coming right away!"

Me:  "I was, but got sidetracked. And the car's  still locked - why didn't you unlock it?" 

GB:  "I did! I punched the button a bunch of times." 

Me:  "Well, it didn't work, the car's locked." 

GB: "Whatever, I called you several times and you didn't pick up! What's the use of a cell phone if you don't answer it???"

Me: "Uh GB...I'm here to get my phone out of your car. How could I possibly answer it if it's in your car, for God's sake???" (At this point I'm pretty sure a big old eye-roll was done by moi.) 

GB:  "Oh, well, um, yeah. You have a point there." 

Me:  "___________________!" (At this point I know a big old eye-roll was done by moi...plus a bit of muttered swearing.)

(This one's for Daryl in honor of her just fabulous ~husbandisms~.) 

~~~

xoabb

A Salute to Another Very Nice Man

And a photo that has nothing to do with anything...except I like it...

Oak Tree Fungus Beauty

As you may or may not recall, my only son, Bly, is cursed with losing his wallet. As you may or may not recall, my son, Bly is also blessed with incredible luck in having his wallet always safely returned to him every time he loses it! It's happened again...Oh dear...I must....Oh dear...

TO BE CONTINUED LATER THIS MORNING.....CAN'T FINISH NOW....MUST GO TO BED...PLEASE CHECK BACK!!!! ARRRGGGHHH! (I'll try to make it worth the revisit, really, I will!!!)

8:22 am: I'm back! Got sidetracked last night...MOS told me several weeks ago that a buddy of his from college would be coming here to stay with us for a few days, if that was ok (it was). What he didn't tell me was that friend was arriving last night. Kind of put a crimp in my blogging time. The three of us spent quite a bit of the evening talking about his across-the-country trip and looking through his incredible photography portfolio.

Back to Bly and his wallet:

First time he lost his wallet, a lovely lady found it and returned it to him. Second time he lost his wallet, and returned it to him. Third time? Another lovely man.
Phone rings. I don't recognize the number, but it's local so I answer it. Male voice: "Is George there?" Me: "Sorry, no, can I take a message?" Guy: "My name is Skip and I have his wallet. I found it in the street when I was out jogging. It has his license and bank card in it so I was able to figure out the phone number." Me: "________." Guy: "Excuse me, you still there?" Me, sputtering: "Yes, it's just that this has happened before to my son and every time some wonderful person has returned it." Guy, chuckling, "Guess he's just lucky."
Fast forward two days later. Bly had spoken to the gentleman with his wallet and told him he was working double shifts and would try to sneak out to pick up his wallet late on the second day. That day, I was sitting at my kitchen table around 6:00 pm when I noticed a lady jogging to the side door. I opened the door...and was handed Bly's wallet. After thanking her profusely, she said it was no big deal as she and her wallet saving hubby were just out for ice cream. They live all the way over on the other side of town. For the third time, not the second but the third, here is proof that there are very decent people left in this world! And that Bly is incredibly lucky. Hey there, big guy, I wouldn't be pushing it. That wallet luck of yours is bound to run out!

Maybe this'll help you keep track of it. Just don't lose your pants!

See that nice convenient loop he can attach to his pants' belt loop?
Think it'll help? Nah, me neither.

~~~

xoabb

Every Picture Tells a Story...

But sometimes it's impossible to figure out what that story is...

As I was driving down the Post Road, I first noticed this man pushing his cart down the sidewalk. He was far behind the two carts pictured above.  When I stopped at the red light, the man walked around the carts, not once glancing at them, and crossed the street. 

There were no humans visible that might have claim to these other ones. How bizarre to have that particular man pass two other carts that looked exactly like his.  There's a story behind this that I'll never know. And I'd really like to.  

~~~

 xoabb

A Salute to a Very Nice Man

Yep, you read that right (sigh). This is another tale of a miracle happening in the life of my son, Bly, and his poor beleaguered wallet. As you might recall, in the very recent past, Bly lost his wallet and it was returned to him by a very nice and honest woman with everything intact. Read on, dear friends, read on - the saga's only getting better!

About a week ago, as GB was driving Bly to the train, he asked his dad for some money.

"Why do you need money?"

"For train fare to the city." MOS replied.

"Why do you need that when you have a monthly pass?"

"I, uh, well I must have left my wallet on my desk at work."

Of course, the two of them then had that very special father-son exchange I'm sure many of you are familiar with. I won't go into detail here other than to say I'm quite sure sarcasm and swearing was involved.

Fast forward several hours later when GB returned home. Well, looky there! Just look at what was waiting to be discovered!! Why, it was a brand new, just sent, never been read, fax. Imagine that, it was a fax from some unknown person asking that he be contacted as HE was in possession of a wallet which belonged to a GB, and he would like to return it. (I just knew this had to have been the exact moment GB began to mutter under his breath: "Dammit, and with this kid's unbelievable luck, his damn wallet will ONCE AGAIN be returned with every damn thing in it!" GB later confirmed to me that this, in fact, was quite true.)
Since both husband and son share the same name, GB quickly checked just to reassure himself HIS wallet was in his pant pocket - and of course, it was. (Considering the fact GB hasn't been commuting to the city by train for many many years, don't you think he should have just known this and not had to check? I'm just sayin'!) GB then jumped to the brilliant conclusion that Bly, aka GB the Younger, had once again lost his beleaguered wallet.

GB the elder then put in a phone call to Bly, aka GB the Younger, to tell him that once again he was the luckiest luckiest human on earth. Of course, once again, the two of them had that very special father-son exchange (sigh). Again, I won't go into detail here other than to say this time I know sarcasm and swearing were most definitely involved.
Bly called Mr. P. and they arranged to meet at the gentleman's office in the city the next day. Of course, the wallet was given back to him............of course with everything in it.
I'm thinking we're going to start calling it The Miraculous Boomerang Wallet, no more beleaguered wallet, because it's obviously not!

As was written before:

Nice, decent folk still exist! That's so lovely, don't you think? Thank you Mr. P. for being good to my very very lucky boy. You're the best!

~~~
xoabb

Palm Trees in all the Wrong Places

I stopped by Lynn's Somewhat Invented Life (a very well written blog in my humble opinion) the other day and she had a tale of her tanning youth gone awry. It instantly brought back memories of when my tanning youth went awry. Ahhh those youthful memories. Grand, tho some are totally embarassing, aren't they?

I had come home from college one summer and gotten a job as a lifeguard for our city's Parks & Rec. Department. All the lifeguards were required to wear the same regulation Speedo swim suit, and that year they were simply charming navy blue Speedos with big white palm trees all over them. Some of the palms were right-side-up, some were up-side-down, some were sideways. They were not pretty by any stretch of the imagination.

During our guard shifts, we all had to sit in regulation guard chairs and, of course, we never used the regulation umbrellas.

Several weeks after I had been working, on one of my days off, I was getting ready to go somewhere that involved my wearing a bikini (which I could do then...easily.....now? Don't ask!). I had on shorts over the bottoms but just the bikini top on top. I turned around to get something and my boyfriend at the time burst out laughing. He dragged me to the mirror and just pointed at my back as he couldn't speak. I had palm trees all over my back. Tan-colored palm trees. Not just one, but many. It was simply spectacular. I can laugh now...but then? Nope!

~~~

xoabb

P.S. - We're off to see my seeester and favorite B-I-L in DC for the weekend. Fun! Maybe I'll see you over the weekend, if not, then for sure on Monday. Bye!

A Salute to a Very Nice Lady

Our middle and only son, Bly, went out to dinner with the family (minus me - other plans, YAHOO, thank you) last night. He had been out with a friend of his, who dropped him off at the restaurant. When Bly returned home, he grabbed his car and re-met up with his buddy and a bunch of other friends. Upon returning home around 8 that evening, (it was a very early dinner, pardon me, not very posh), it slowly dawned on him that he was no longer in possession of his wallet. "O what a shock!!", I cried, "you lost your wallet???" He looked at me with what can only be described as great irritation. Fortunately he refrained from verbally expressing his irritation. It most certainly wasn't the first time something important has been "misplaced" by Bly and most likely not the last, (sigh). Given the circumstances, I thought the sarcasm was well justified on my part, thank you!

Parents everywhere will empathize with the next part of this tale: Bly had been given cash or gas cards from various relatives for Christmas, along with a $300.00 monthly train pass from Santa. Both his dad, (GB), and his mom, (that would be me), suggested to him MORE THAN ONCE that it might be a very good idea to keep his non-replaceable train pass in his room during the weekend along with excess amounts of cash. Did he listen??? Hmmmmmm............what do you think?

He spent the next hour frantically looking through his friend's and his own car, then went back to the parking lot and looked all over the asphalt - basically retraced his steps everywhere.

While I was sitting at the kitchen table I had a brilliant and was hoping also a fruitful thought. (It's not often I have a brilliant thought that could be fruitful; they're usually just contemplative and not very fruitful...) "Hmmmmm......", thought I, "I think I'll check our voice mail.....maybe, just maybe someone has found his wallet and has left a message." BINGO!! There was a message from a lady who said she had indeed found his wallet and would he please call her. Bly did, and after a 20 minute conversation, he took off in his car to get his wallet. I, of course, was listening to his end of their conversation and it was obvious they were talking about more than just directions to her house. Of course, being ever the romantic mama, I had the two of them instantly falling in love, living happily ever after, and, of course, giving me grandkids to love, etc., etc. Motherly pipe dreams!

Bly returned home with wallet - and it's entire contents - intact. "How did that go?", I asked coyly, as mothers are wont to do when they want more information than they're willing to let on. "Fine.", he replied. "Tomorrow I'd like to get her a gift certificate to a restaurant or send her some flowers." After picking myself up off the floor, because in his near recent past, (you know, those ~less mature~ years), that kind of thinking would have never made it through his cranium, let alone out of his mouth, I said, a crazy mother thing: "Oh, maybe this is the start of something good." Bly looked at me as if I'd grown pink horns out my forehead. "Mother, she's at least 50 years old!." I slithered out of the room hoping he would forget our entire exchange. I'm sure he won't.

Nice, decent folk still exist! That's so lovely, don't you think? Thank you Ms. B. for being good to my little boy. You're the best!

~~~

The Iceman goeth
The ducks should be winging back
Where the Hell are they???

~~~

xoabb

The Pet Chronicles

As GB said to me: "How is it that every time one of the kids heads off to college, we gain another animal???"

We used to obtain pets the normal way - well, only if you call my getting a puppy on the eve of our wedding, at our rehearsal dinner, from my groom normal........ Actually, come to think of it, we've NEVER gotten a new pet in the "normal" way.

Sheba was our first. She was an adorable black lab puppy that became a part of our family before we even were a family (see above). She was a dear who was with us for just short of 16 years. When Sheba was six months we moved from Chicago to New England and into an old old house. It immediately became apparent we were in desperate need of a cat. The mouse problem, scratch that, infestation was terrible. Off to the Humane Society we went and came home with a wonderful all black cat we called Spooker. Hmmmm...looking back, I now realize I should never have told GB, (or our kiddos for that matter), where the Humane Society was.

When Sheba was two and I was pregnant with our first kiddo, GB called to me from the front yard of our house: "Ann, come out here! There's a surprise for you!" I'm thinking "yipee, new car!!" Nope, it's "yipee, new dog!!" If there ever was a Disney dog, it was this big half Irish wolfhound half old English sheepdog GB was standing next to. Of course, Waldo had a terrible past and was a rescue from the Humane Society so what was I going to do, send him back??? (This is a question I've been forced to ask myself often over the years.) I'll tell you about The Waldo Chronicles another day.














Hmmm....next came our cat Tinkerbelle, a lovely lady who replaced Spooker. We were in a new house and though we didn't have an infestation of mice it was obvious having a cat in residence was a very good idea. Next came our beloved and still sorely missed Doofus, a German shepherd muttley mix. GB found him on the 18th green of the golf course. Every time someone hit their ball on the green, Goofy Doofy would pick it up and drop it in the sand bunker. Then he would hide when the golfers came up to the green. GB was watching all this from the 19th Hole. When he got ready to come home, GB went out and called to the puppy. He immediately came over and home they both came. Doofy was with us just over 16 years. And yes there are The Goofy Doofy Chronicles.

Next came Jordan. Off to the Humane Society the kids went because they just knew Doofy needed a companion. Home they came with the tinest puppy I've ever seen. Off to the vet we went to have said puppy checked out. Turns out, she was way too young to be separated from her mom, and because of this, she was the most neurotic dog we'd ever seen! Who has a dog that has to rock back and forth to store up courage before scrambling up stairs? And coming down them? Amazing she didn't break all her legs doing so!


Our eldest daughter, Remy, went off to college petless. She came back at Christmas break with, you guessed it, another pet. Tally HOO-Hoo, The Crooked Kitty (because of a congenital ear issue, his head was always cocked to the side) was the most wonderful cat that ever graced the earth, 'tho he did have a habit of getting stuck in trees (don't worry, all will be revealed some day in The Crooked Kitty Chronicles). We still miss him!

When Tally had been with us for about a year our two girls, Remy and Brynn (youngest daughter), decided to go to the Humane Society "just to look, mom". They came home with a cat. The folks at the Humane Society told them Good Girl was a year old cat who had just had a litter of three kittens. The next day, our veterinarian told us she was at least 12 to 14 years old and had obviously been a kitten-producing stray her entire life. She only had three teeth and as it turned out, breast cancer. Our dear vet. never charged us for a penny of his time because he felt we were giving her the only good time in her life. She was only with us for about a year. One day she just disappeared. I was upset, obviously, but when I called our vet. he told me that this is typical of cats and dogs when they are about to die.















Our next acquisition happened when Brynnly came home from her first year of college with, yep, another kitten. Trey-you (second picture down) never did go back to college and we have him to this day.

The top photo is of our Pippen (also pictured with Stella in the third photo), again gotten when Remy and our son, Bly, went to the Humane Society "just to look mom!" Of course there was this adorable, most likely abused and most definitely malnourished puppy that had just been transferred to our Humane Society from New York. Of course, she came home with the kiddos. Of course, GB and I couldn't say no. Well, we could have, but we didn't. Pippen is a dear doggy. However, in the three years we've had her she still can be skittish, and she still looks very anorexic tho the vet. says her weight is just fine (I wish I had that problem: "Oh yes, Ann, your weight is simply perfect!!).

Finally, Bly came home for the summer in June of '06 after his junior year of college. He brought a dog with him. A very big dog. He said he was walking his friend's dog one day when this big puppy came barreling out from under a bush at the two of them. The dog scared the hell out of him (and his friend's dog) at first, but then he saw that her tail was wagging and she was whimpering pathetically. She was just desperate for someone to take her home. From what we and the vet can tell, Stella (second and third picture) is a purebred German shepherd. Bly (he's so responsible!) phoned all the local vets to see if anyone had called about a missing dog and, of course, he also phoned the dog pound, Humane Society and newspapers. Miss Stella has been with us for two years. No one ever claimed her. I take that back. GB and I have claimed her!

Bly is not getting her back............ever.

And yes, as I write this The Stella with a bit of Pippen Chronicles are being lived.

However, I have informed all family members that if anyone brings another animal into this house, I'm leaving! I'm hoping they all view this as a threat and not an invitation.

~~~

Our pond, still frozen
Our ducks, winging their way south
Come back here soon. Please?

~~~
xoabb