We're Gonna Party Like its 1999!

I'd like to wish all the Ethiopians out there a Happy New Year and a prosperous new millennium. That's right. It's the year 2000 for them. We've had our new milennium for seven years now, and look what we've done to it!

The Coptic calendar is about seven years behind our Gregorian calendar which means for those people on the ball, like my pal Mad Cabbie, bringing in the new century can be done twice!

That First Car

My first car was a high school graduation present from my mother and her friend Deb. It was a white 1967 Plymouth Fury.

It looked exactly like the photo above. When I was given the car, it was 1981 and there wasn't a mark on the car and there was no rust.

The first week that I had it, one of the radiator hoses split, making it emit an impressive amount of steam. The cool thing was that I went to the local petrol (gas) station and bought the new hose and they put it on for me for nothing.

I've just realized something. Remember when when you went to the petrol station, not only was there somebody there who fixed cars, they would fill your car with fuel and check the oil? Later on, there were two prices of fuel, the self-service price and the full service price. Now it is all self-service. The folks behind the candy counter/cashier's desk wouldn't dream of helping you to fill your car. Don't even think about getting them to check the oil. You used to be able to get new wiper blades for the windscreen wipers, new tires and all sorts of other regular maintenance things. Now, its just fuel and junk food.

I watched a man in a petrol station a few years ago. He had checked his own oil levels and discovered that he was a bit low. He purchased the oil and proceeded to put it into his car, right there on the forecourt. There was somebody behind him waiting to fill up, and he pipped his horn at Mr. Low-on-oil. Sheesh! I know I feel like I'm holding things up if I fill up the windscreen wiper fluid at the petrol station, but I've got to do it. It seems as though these places are for refueling only. If you have to do things like top up engine oil or refill the windscreen wiper squishers, then I get the feeling that these things should be done in the privacy of ones own driveway.

That big Plymouth engine wasn't just for show, it was built to consume fuel. I think it got about eight miles to the gallon. What a beast! I am sure that I am not alone in wishing that I still had my first car. Having said that, if I still had the car, I don't know if I could afford the fuel to run it. Actually, I don't know where I would find the fuel for that car. It ran on regular gas. None of that unleaded stuff for that old tank. I don't know if there are any petrol stations in Scotland that sell the old style, lead-filled fuel for cars.

The Plymouth Fury had one of the biggest engines that Detroit ever produced. It was so solid. I remember being astounded by the boot (trunk) space. I swear one could have put a family of five in there quite comfortably. The body of the car was made of proper metal as well. One could lean on the car or even stand on it and it wouldn't dent. Imagine anybody being brave enough to stand on a modern car.

There is one feature of my first car that I wish would come back into fashion. It had bench style seats and they were so comfortable! I don't remember anybody ever complaining about seat position and sore backs. These seats were built for comfort alone and they came into their own when pulled over to the side of a lonely dirt road in the moonlit Iowa countryside.

Is it a coincidence that the baby boom ended with the demise of the bench seats in cars?

Bon Voyage George!

The Man of the Place and myself waved good bye to our youngest boy, George yesterday at about seven. He was off in a coachload of fellow students to the town of Figeac in the Midi Pyrenees for a bit to play the part of an exchange student. I gave him a kiss just as he was getting on the coach. I had just put on some lipstick and left a big plum coloured mark on his face that I didn't wipe off, I just left it. It is behaviour such as this that causes him to not trust kissing his mother.

George's school has one of the longest running student exchange programs in the UK. Sean, our middle son took part in this exchange program when he was a student. We have hosted a couple of students from Figeac over the years and I hope they had a good time. I also hope that this will improve George's spoken French as it is even rougher than mine.

Now that we've got some child-free time, I can cook with mushrooms and fish again without anybody taking personal offense. If I try to cook anything with mushrooms, spinach or any form of fish, George acts like I'm doing it on purpose, like I'm cooking AT him.

It is so odd to feel as though we have run out of children. If we had a pool, I think that we'd go skinny dipping. What on earth are we going to do with this big house in five years time when George goes off to university? Rent out rooms?

Happy 39th Tom!

It's that time of year again! My brother's birthday is today. He is ONLY 39!This is his third birthday - I don't think he is wearing trousers. Tom used to be infamous for taking off his clothes back then, so much so that we called him Nature Boy. Sally is probably helping Tom to blow out the candles.

When I spoke to Tom earlier this week he tried unsuccessfully to complain about becoming 39. I'm afraid his complaints fell on deaf ears. A milestone in any kid's life, the first fish. I've showed this photo before, but I just love it so you can see it again. He is wearing his favourite Smokey Bear trousers. He had obviously grown out of the take-all-clothes-off stage by this point.

He was always such a sweet kid growing up. I miss him quite a bit and today I miss him terribly.
Tom and Sophie the cat. Sophie produced four kittens one year (I think she looks pregnant in that photo) The kittens were named Fred, Wilma, Band-aid and George. It was after the arrival of the kittens that my mother developed an allergy to cats. We said goodbye to Sophie and her children. She was the last pet cat that we had. I didn't get cats until I moved to another country.
If anybody is in Mt Vernon today, stop by Gary's Supermarket and wish Tom a happy birthday. He's got to work today and I'm sure he'd be grateful for the warm wishes.

Today's News

I turned on the old bedside clock radio just before seven this morning before I had to roll out to go down the hall, wake up George and get our day started. The first thing that we heard was that a new study has been published in The Lancet or some other medical comic stating that artificial additives such as artificial colours, flavours and preservatives make children hyperactive. What? Has the clock gone back to 1976? I think we knew this. Why is this information getting air time? I have always known that if my boys eat junk food with loads of artificial colours, flavours and packed with preservatives, they'll go into orbit.

I learned pretty early on that if my children ate processed or convenience foods their behaviour was much harder to control than if I made a bit of effort and cooked something proper for our meals. My kids are normal kids. Well, sort of normal. I can't imagine what it would be like for children with big behaviour problems. We also found out that during car journeys the atmosphere inside the car was just fine until we added candy. Candy makes children go nuts. The more colourful the candy, the crazier the kids got. The worst offender in our family was Skittles. The boys' eyes would glaze over like they were on something illegal.

It always gives me a chuckle in church if a visiting family has a small child and they try to get the child to be quiet by giving it candy. It tells me two things when I see this. One, they don't go to church very often and the children don't know how to act in church. Two, they're kidding themselves if they thing refined sugar is going to keep a tot quiet for any longer than it takes to actually eat the candy. Later on the whole experience frightens me as I realize that I am not only becoming my mother but my grandmother as well in the way that I cross my arms and think all sorts of disapproving things about giving candy to the teenies in church.

Perhaps somebody is trying to get the Food Standards Agency to take some action on food additives. If the Food Standards Agency gets rid of all the nasty food additives, then people who let their children eat junk (myself included) will be absolved of just a bit more responsibility of what goes into children's mouths.


The other bit of news was the death of Luciano Pavarotti. I'm sorry that he's gone. The radio hasn't stopped playing Nessun Dorma all day. I don't mind that, I love Puccini. He was one of the worlds greatest singers and I don't think I'll ever hear his equal again in my lifetime.

The big man in Paris 1998.

Grazie Luciano per la tua bellissima voce! Thank you Luciano for your beautiful voice. Rest in peace maestro.

Brigadoon!

I was out early this morning. I had an appointment up in Glenluce, near Stranraer at 8:30. It takes two hours to get there, so I left at six, giving myself the two hours needed to get there plus an extra thirty minutes for accidents, road works, cattle movements and asshole drivers.

I always like the drive up the west coast of Scotland. I know the west coast gets prettier once you get passed the River Clyde (Glasgow and environs) but that's out of my territory.

It was partly sunny and pleasant when I left. Actually, it was dark, but I could see that it would be partly sunny and pleasant once the sun came up. By the time I got to Glenluce the weather had gone back to low cloud and drizzle. It stayed that way until I got near the house at the end of the day. It is now back to blue skies.

If I started carrying the camera around with me everywhere I go, I run the risk of losing it or causing people to wonder why I take a camera to work but I really wanted the camera with me again today. I also wished for the binoculars.

After my appointment in Glenluce, I drove north to Girvan in Ayrshire. There were a lot of grey seals on rocks along the coast. There were also loads and loads, I mean hundreds of shore birds. There were cormorants, shags, curlews, oyster catchers, swans, eider ducks and many different flavours of gulls to name a few. Incidentally none of the swans were this year's cygnets, they were all adult swans. Perhaps they are last year's babies and haven't mated up yet.

After stopping in Girvan to see some more doctors, I had to go further north and meet up with some colleagues before driving home. North of Girvan on the A75 you pass over the River Doon. Across the river is the new modern bridge. The new bridge is the perfect viewing platform to see the Auld Brig o' Doon. Brig being the Scots word for bridge. I thought I could here the pipes calling . . . .

Walking the Dog

The last two evenings, I've walked Polly for much further than I normally walk her. I am doing this for two reasons. 1. She needs the exercise. 2. I need the exercise.

We've gone two miles on the other side of the village. This makes it a walk that is about five miles in total. I don't know how long I can keep this up or how long the weather will hold. The weather has been fairly decent this past week.

There are a few blackberries ripe enough to pick in the hedges along the road, but the berries aren't very sweet this year. In our family, when things are a bit sour, we call them "blinky". The berries are a bit blinky this year.

The sun has been setting while Polly and I are on the way back to the house. We watch the bats come out and hear the day birds saying good night. I always keep an eye out for the big white barn owl that has been hanging around our place this summer. He can be seen perched on top of the house or in the big beech trees nearby. I love to watch him hunt in the fields next to the house.

There are a lot of owls around here, not just barn owls. We have lots of tawny owls and a smattering of short eared owls.

Forgot the Camera

The Man of the Place, George and I went to Eyemouth yesterday. TMotP had a couple of dives with his dive club. George and I came across as diving support.

I put the camera in the car because I knew that there would be lots of beautiful things to photograph once we got to the east coast of Scotland. I wasn't wrong. It was beautiful. The coast there is rocky and full of waterfowl. There were some shore birds out on some rocks that I couldn't i.d. straight away. I found me cursing myself for not bringing the binoculars. I went to go get the camera out of the car, only to discover that I couldn't find it. I could have sworn I put the camera in the car before we left. BUMMER! No binoculars and no camera. I was just going to have to enjoy the day without the benefit of looking through some sort of lens.
Eyemouth Harbor is home to one of the few remaining inland fishing fleets so the harbor is a working harbor. There are stacks of fish boxes, piles of lobstser pots and loads of gulls. There is the sound of bells on the ships, ringing as the surf rocks the boats gently from side to side. There is the sound of boats as the motor in and out of the harbor and the slap of ropes and chains as they hit against the masts of the few sail boats that make it into this working man's arena.

Some day when one or all of us are planning a dive in Eyemouth, we'll rent a caravan the night before so we can get down to the Eyemouth fish market to see what goes on. By the time we got there at 10 am, everybody who works at the fish market had gone and the fish sold were on their way to the rest of the UK and indeed Europe. The only evidence that the market had been open that day, were the freshly rinsed fish boxes, still dripping in mountainous stacks and the occasional broken bit of crab claw on the ground.

There is a small group of grey seals that live in Eyemouth Harbor. A local vendor has taken advantage of the seal's regularity and has opened a stall selling fresh mackrel for visitors to throw to the seals down in the water. The seals are a good size having had the benefit of regular meals for some time. One of the seals is particularly huge.As for the diving, it was reported to be very good. The water temperature was about 13 C and the visibility was good at 12 meters. The returning divers reported and showed me pictures of loads of squat lobsters, shrimp and crabs. There was a report of minke whales being seen by other divers on the day, but not by anybody in our group.

While TMotP was in the water, George and I went across to a fish and chip shop that is directly across the road from the Fish Market. I defy anybody to get fresher fish from a fish shop than that! I could just imagine that the fish had been flopping on the deck of a boat earlier in the day. I knew I wasn't going to be able to finish a whole plate of fish and chips so I ordered a child's portion. Even then I couldn't finish that. I saved the left overs for the gulls.

The eggs just before they hatched.

Back at the house, the latest batch of fish eggs hatched. I'm sorry that I can't get a photo of the newly hatched fry. They remind me of paramecium. They wiggle so fast and they are so small. They are about the size of this exclamation point when they hatch > ! <

A mushroom has appeared at the base of my bonsai. The bonsai is another rescue and I'm trying to see if I can do anything with it. The bonsai tree has been living outside and has only recently been brought in. This little mushroom appeared. It was a very small mushroom so as to not upset the scale of the whole bonsai effect.

New Babies in the Aquarium

For those readers who have been around for a while know that I keep a couple of fish tanks.

In the large (116 gallon) aquarium, I have some Bronze Corydoras that are very regular about spawning. The first time they spawned, I was able to save the eggs in the hope that they would hatch. Sadly, that first batch of eggs wasn't fertile. Subsequent batches of eggs were eaten by the other fish in the aquarium before I could save them.
photo of the first batch of fish eggs


Last week the fish spawned again. I was home and alert to the spawning and was able to save about a dozen eggs. I was able to move the eggs to the recently vacated fish tank in the kitchen. I watched as the eggs got darker. The night before they hatched, I could see the little guys wiggling around in their egg cases. The next day, the eggs had hatched but wouldn't you know it, it was also the day that the filter pump selected to die. I thought that that was it for the little guys. I squirted some food for freshly hatched fish in there anyway and went off to buy a new pump.


Today, there were more eggs laid on the glass in the big aquarium and I was able to collect about 30 eggs. They were being placed in the kitchen aquarium when I saw them, the babies from the previous batch. I have seen about three teeny tiny little fish wiggling around.


I can't get a photo of the newly hatched fry for two reasons; 1. They're too wiggly and won't stay still. 2. I am still not good at getting the macro function to work on our camera.

I am thrilled that I have been home to save more fish eggs and to discover that saving these eggs actually works! I get baby fish!

Grandma's Cookbooks

Not long ago, I was given my late grandmother's cookbooks by my mother.

I just love them. They are proper working kitchen cookbooks with good solid recipes in them.

The first one is the Grace Lutheran Church, Fargo, North Dakota circa 1939.

The cover is off this one but I love it just the same.

This book's recipes are the shortest of all the books, coming from North Dakota kitchens in the Fargo/Moorhead area. The recipes are merely lists of ingredients. The assumption is that only other industrious housewives will be using this book and they'll know how to cook.

The next cook book is The Cook's Book of favorite recipes. It is another locally produced cook book from Fargo. All the recipes in this book, as in all the others have credited the housewife who submitted the recipe. This book was obviously well used. There are lots of grease spots on the pages. In addition, there are notes written in the margins and recipes added in on the end paper in my grandmother's tidy handwriting.

The last of the old books is the Cook Book - Edition III created by The First Lutheran Ladies Aid, Fargo, North Dakota. I think this last one is my all time favourite. It is my favourite for a few reasons;

1. It has the most recipes written on the pages and margins.

2. It had the greatest number of old articles and recipes clipped from newspapers and magazines tucked in between the pages.

3. It has a section on Norwegian Delicacies.

Going through the pages of these books is like peeping into the kitchens of 1930's through to the 1950's. The women stayed at home and did all the cooking. As there were no prepared foods available, only ingredients, they made everything. Ketchup, pie crusts, dinner rolls, pickles and cookies. No buying a box of cookies, you made them. As everything was made all the time, these recipes are very short on instructions and are mostly just lists of ingredients. The cook books assume you have the experience and common sense just to make these things.

I laughed at one recipe for Parker House Rolls. it gave the list of ingredients with the instructions to dissolve the cake of Fleishman's yeast (I don't think yeast is still available in cake form, it's all activated dried yeast now) in warm water, then it lists the other ingredients with the instruction Make rolls. Let raise 3 hours. No oven temperature was listed either, not even "moderate oven".

Going through the recipe books, I discovered a recipe that I remembered from my childhood. Orange Delights, a delicate and light orange cookie topped with orange flavoured icing. I made a batch of these cookies up a few weeks ago, just before we went hill walking. The Orange Delights were just as comforting as I had remembered them to be.

One of the articles that is tucked into one of the cookbooks is gleaned from Better Homes and Gardens magazine, April 1932. The article is about how to remove marks from wooden floors and repair scratches on furniture. If anybody was to follow these instructions, I would recommend doing it in the summer with all the doors and windows open as it requires the use of high-test gasoline, naphtha or benzine to remove the old varnish.

I would like to thank the women of the First Lutheran Ladies Aid for producing this book, more specifically, the Cook Book Committee from somewhere back in the 1930's.

Mrs Stella Krageland, Chairman

Mrs O O Jacobson

Mrs M G Bean

Mrs C B Paulson

Mrs L M Braaten

Mrs E K Onstad

Mrs Sanborn Olson

Mrs Norris Larson

Good Scandinavian names.

There must have been moments of awkwardness for Catholic families, including my own, the Dwyer family out there in a sea of Norwegian Lutherans on the North Dakota plains but one can find a real sense of friendship in these old community produced cookbooks.

Thanks again, Mom for giving me these wonderful cook books and thank you for the recipe contributions you have added.

Who Has More Fun Than Us? - Part II

We sure do like shooting things around here.

The Man of the Place came home with two huge cartons of records. The records and 45 singles were given to him by a friend of his. The records were going to go to a charity shop, but this friend thought H would like to go through them first. If you know the size of my husband's record collection, you would understand why my heart sank a bit when I saw the boxes.

He dutifully went through the albums and singles, gleaning out the things he thought were worth keeping. The rest were to go to a charity shop.

Then, a better idea came to mind. . . . .

I'd like to make it perfectly clear that we only ever shoot inanimate objects.

There are too many Leo Sayer and Billy Joel singles in the world anyway.

I'd Like to Thank The Academy . . .

If I see a new award and I see that I haven't received it, I am every so slightly put out. I know that is childish, but hey, I can be childish sometimes. Just ask anybody. There are some awards that have been floating around amongst the blogs that I read.

You see that over to the side of the blog there is the coveted Golden Spork award given annually by Tink over at her blog Pickled Beef. This award is not one of those awards that when one receives it, you then go on to nominate more people for the award. This one is finite. For that reason, I pasted it to the side of my blog. Well, now that award is not going to sit all by itself like a lone trophy in a over sized trophy case. Over the past few months, a few of my fellow bloggers have forwarded even more glory my way.

Over the past few months more awards have been given to me. Each and every time I am given one of these awards, I feel flattered. I have been quite slow in passing some of these awards on. I'd like to fix the situation now.

Before I go on, I'd like to say that I hope that those I nominate haven't already got one of these.
On April 27th, 2007 Susan at Slice of Life has awarded me the Rockin' Girl Blogger Award. Susan has a great blog with a host of regular readers/friends who are also very good bloggers. She's got two beautiful daughters and she shares the funny bits of what goes on in her Seattle home through the blog. I was so flattered to be singled out amongst the crowd for this award. Not only was I was chosen but the award itself makes me happy because I like to think that I can still Rock!
In turn I pass this award on to:
Xtreme English - She's taking a break at the moment but go and read her blog anyway. Find out all about her cochlear implant and how she was able to start hearing again this year.
Doctor Pistachio - A dear Iowa Gal who now lives in Seattle. She's just about the sweetest person with a Phd that you'd ever want to meet.
A few short days later on April 30th, 2007 Betty over at Old Dog New Trick passed on the Thinking Blogger Award. I hope that my delay in thanking you doesn't diminish the message of gratitude. Betty is a true Southern Belle. Though I've never spoken to this Arkansas resident, I just know that listening to her will be like drinking sweet tea on a hot day. Her blog is a blog that I check every single day. In addition to stories of her life, Betty will write the occasional book review. I'd like to pass this award on to two of my oldest friends:
Tom - Nicest banjo player I know and father of Dr Pistachio.
Joe - Iowa's Premier Tax Blogger. If you even THINK about adding a penny to the taxes in Des Moines, you'll have to deal with my mate Joe.
Last but certainly not least Tink has given me an additional chunk of love with the Nice Matters Award. I really like reading Ms Erbelle's work. She is very very funny and just vulnerable enough for me to forgive her for being so young, beautiful and creative.
This one is passed along to:
Chameleon - Who writes beautifully and takes very excellent photos (aside from the photo of me).
Blogging in Paris - I had the pleasure of meeting dear Claude in December. We started talking the moment we met and there wasn't a gap in the conversation until we had to say goodbye. When I get to Paris again, I will be planning my stay around another visit with her!

The Beauty of The Fells

A peak that is over 2,000 feet is called a mountain. Haystacks is only 1,700 feet but it is a mountain to me. Can you see the lamb? How did he get there? More importantly, how is he going to get down?

Here is a quotation from A W Wainwright's pages on Haystacks about these very rocks.

It is a test of iron discipline to pass without halting several large comfortable boulders athwart the path.

Mr Wainwright, they were very comfortable indeed! That one looked just like a chair. I had to sit on it for just a few minutes.
Mom, I wore the new jacket you gave me. It was perfect for the sort of day we get here.

For the fans of heather, here are two more photos.

I thought I would share the bit of video I shot of the marvelous view from early on in walk.

Haystacks

For those of you who are familiar with the national treasure that was A.W. Wainwright, you will know all about his favourite walks, Haystacks. Well, we walked up there today.

The weather wasn't what it should be in August. We had low cloud and a good wind blowing. The forecast for The Lake District said that it was to clear from the west as the day went on, so we decided that it was "game on"! We wouldn't be put off by a bit of low cloud and drizzle.

Naturally, I took loads of photos so that I could share the walk with you.

Here is Haystacks as seen from the farm, just as we start our ascent. You can see the clouds are blanketing the top of the hill (this place is not quite tall enough to be called a mountain).

Henry and Pam looking up to Haystacks from the very beginning of the walk.

Yours truly plodding up the first part of the walk. You can see Lake Buttermere below. It was all very pretty. I have my head down because I am already out of puff and we've just started!

The heather is in bloom just now. It made our walk all the more delightful. It's a shame that it doesn't have a better perfume. Does heather have a perfume? I've never sniffed it.

We climbed up this place when George was all of 10 months old and in a baby backpack. As he is going to be 14 next month, you know how long its been since I did a major walk like this one. I decided that I was going to go at my own pace and not be intimidated by the fast walking fit people in our little group. By the way our group included me, The Man of the Place, George and our dear friends Kevin and Pam. Kevin and Pam live in Cierencester (down south) near where we used to live in Wiltshire. Kevin and Henry used to work together at a children's home and have always been very close friends.

Henry and Kevin

Pam

The first part of the walk is very uphill. I found myself having to stop quite often to let my heart rate come back down and allow my breathing to calm. The path up to the summit was pretty steep, but the footing was easy. Then got to a portion of the walk where we had to do a bit of scrambling over some daunting rocks.

See? The rocks are full of daunts!

It was very cloudy once we got past a certain height. The clouds rolled past us. Some were heavier than others. One cloud had a bit of sleet in it! That wasn't pleasant, but at least that cloud didn't stay for long. George, whose nickname for the day was Goat Boy was always above us, waiting for the old creaky adults to catch up. I don't think gravity works on him in the same way. When the clouds parted we were all awestruck with the glorious views.

During the ascent, it was George who had Polly's lead (leash) for the bulk of the time. Polly was wonderful and perfectly behaved the entire time. She hopped up and down those rocks like she has always lived on hills. Coming back down out of the clouds, the views were spectacular. It made all the red faced gasping of the ascent completely worth the effort. Look at that!

During hill walking and mountain climbing, more injuries occur during the descent. I completely understand why. The descent SUCKED! The path was covered in loose stone. Where the stone was not loose but fixed, it was greasy with the day's rain. I took a photo of the path going down so you could see just why I had to have a hot bath and take two paracetamol with codeine. I feel pretty stiff and leaden.

Would I do it again? You bet! It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The changing light from the cloud moving across made the vistas all the more dramatic. I bet if I did walks like this more often, it would get a lot easier.

Harebell

In fact, this walk up Haystacks was much easier (knee stiffness aside) than the first time I went up. I have no blisters on my feet this time AND I wasn't pissed off with my family for not waiting for me.

There is something very demoralising about being the slowest person on a walk. Just when you reach the pack, they who have had a jolly nice rest are ready to go just as you make it to them. This time, everybody was really good about walking with me, the slowest person. If they walked ahead, they stopped after a bit and were merciful about waiting for me even more time for me to catch my breath.

On the way home, we had lovely fish and chips with loads of salt and vinegar for dinner. We ate them on our laps in the car. It was DEE-lish!

You can down load the walk details here.

Summer at Grandma's

My friend Deb has a lot of our old family photos. The reason she has them is a long drawn out story that I won't bore anybody with. She's not, by her own admission, very technically minded, but she did sit down one afternoon and started scanning the photos into the computer. For my birthday last month, I received a card and a disk with a lot of photos on it. I thought I'd share two of my favourites. This is me and my two sisters. From left to right: Katie, Peggy, Sally. We are obviously just getting ready to go to Sunday Mass because we're all so freshly scrubbed and have clean clothes on. I loved that dress!

There was sometimes a time gap in our family between the time that a picture was taken and the date the film made it in to get developed. This means that June 1973 might not be the correct date. I'm sure my mother will pipe in with the correct information. If the date is correct then I will be almost 11 years old. Please notice that I am not wearing my glasses. There was a point in my life where I was notorious for losing my glasses.

This is one of my favourite photos of my brother Tom. The picture was taken during the same summer that the above photo was taken. Tom is proudly displaying the first fish he ever caught. It could be a trout but it is more likely that the obviously undersized fish is a perch or sunfish.

Both photos were taken at my grandparents home in Elcho, Wisconsin. I loved it there. The summers seemed endless and there was always something to do or trouble to get into. It would be so nice to go back there now to catch a few fireflies.

Fish TV

There was another big delivered at the house for work on Saturday.

I haven't found a spot to store this big box just yet and it is still on the floor in front of the aquarium.

Jack found that this box is the best spot for keeping an eye on the tropical fish.

I don't blame him. I like watching the fish too, but I'm sure it is for different reasons. I find it is a comfort to watch my fish. Jack and Julio just want to eat them. We find that the cats have become very good hunters. The hallway, at the end of which we have a cat flap installed, has become the hallway of death and gore. There are always feathers in the vacuum or headless shrew in the garbage from my having to clean up the latest murder.

I've put collars on the young cats that have very jingly bells. I was hoping that this would give the local small mammals and young birds a better chance. The cats seem to be particularly lucky at catching shrews and young blackbirds.

I am pleased that the pets are doing photogenic things as it seems to be a slow week for actual news.

Busted!

Polly our dog is not allowed on furniture.

We know that when we're not at home, she sneaks up there. I find stray dog hairs and sometimes there is a tell-tale warm spot. Lately she's been getting bolder as she'll wait until we're almost in the room before she jumps down. Today, she didn't even bother to get off the furniture when our house guest, Kyle (one of George's friends from the village) was in the room. I think she realized that Kyle wasn't a family member and therefore wouldn't tell her to get off the sofa (no authority in this house).

Kyle came and asked me if the dog was allowed on the furniture. I said that she most certainly wasn't allowed. He then said that Polly was sleeping on the sofa with one of the cats. Aww!

I knew that if I went into the room, Polly would jump off the sofa before I got in there to take a picture, so I set up the camera and had Kyle take the photo of the two pets.

This is what he got:

She was totally busted! I must admit, they do look cute sleeping together.

It is so nice to have pets that get along. It makes life SO much easier. Our other cats HATED dogs and didn't approve of their existence. These cats don't mind at all. Polly, a Staffordshire Bull Terrier isn't supposed to like cats, but she actually likes these cats. When they first arrived, she could be found washing them and trying to carry them around.

I had to do it though. I went into the front room and ordered Polly OFF the furniture and sent her to her crate. Man! She can do a very good pathetic look when she wants to. The look she gave me made me feel like the biggest dog hater in the world.

Houseplant Rescue

When my friend Fran moved back to New Zealand, I got custody of her houseplants.


Now, I love my friend dearly, but she never took care of her houseplants. She'd spend a fortune on gorgeous plants and then ignore them. The plants would slowly loose condition until, when visiting her house, you'd just not see them. The plants that were in her house when she left were given to me instead of going the way of all the past houseplants.

When she left, Fran gave me a ficus benjamina or weeping fig, two umbrella plants and a tri-coloured begonia that was near death. The begonia had two leaves and those two didn't look very clever.
Look at the begonia now! You can see its original leaf in the centre near the bottom. All the other leaves are new.


These are the two umbrella plants. When I lived in Florida, back in the mid 80's, I actually had an umbrella TREE in the front of my apartment building, so I know what potential lives inside these smaller specimens.

You can see the new growth that has sprouted from the bases of these plants.
The chicken wire has had to be placed around the bases of my larger plants because the kittens decided that they'd just as soon use the handy soil as a toilet instead of having to go all the way outside. The chicken wire has been a success. The cats go outside now.
"Hmmpf! As if I would do a thing like that!"
The biggest success is this little tree. It has 50% new leaves on it. It's just exploding with vigor.

All of these plants needed to be re-potted, fed and watered. Really that's all I've done. They now get regular watering and are on a schedule of regular doses of plant food.

I'm grateful to Fran for giving me these plants. They are really adding life and beauty to this new section of our house.
In closing, I've got to say that if you have a pet dog. One really can't leave a plate with a big piece of pie on the floor and then leave the room.