Rescue Mania

   I wish there were no unwanted animals, specifically dogs, and it's good that there are rescues, but it's gotten out of hand. We know dogs are being brought in from southern states and put up for adoption here.Newspapers carry these accounts on a regular basis. It must be expensive to transport these animals, but who doesn't love a dog story, especially now when our affluent living style has led to the aggrandizement of  dogs. Celebrities and do-gooders boast of their RESCUE DOGS.
   The American Kennel Club has spoken out on a related matter. There is legislation being passed preventing the sale of registered dogs in pet stores; they are being permitted to sell only abandoned or homeless animals,  in other words, rescues. The AKC is claiming that many of these rescue dogs are being imported from other countries, capitalizing on the American hunger to be saviors of canines. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but who knows what to believe.
 
 

Transplant Time, Tiny Tomato

Time to spread your vine and fill the cage. I don't know how tiny you are meant to be, but you best supply enough for at least 1 BLT this summer.

Writing 101

   As anyone who has studied the subject of writing composition knows, the primary rule is to make your point, state your thesis, back up your premise. I'm not referring to writing fiction, of course, but expository writing. Any high school student should know, whether writing for a class, or for a college entrance or scholarship exam, that the most important element is communicating what you want to say.
   If the writing sample is clouded with inadequate support for your thesis, it will not be conducive to success. If the reason for your writing is to express your knowledge, and your readers have to struggle to wend their way through an accumulation of verbiage to figure out what you want to communicate, that does not sit well with the examiners.  The rationale of the double negative is not the optimal choice to say what you mean. Clarity is key.
   Therefore, Mr. Mueller, I would grade your report as C, bordering on C-. You may know what conclusions you have drawn. But you have, again, left your opus subject to the vagaries of individual interpretation. Or, as you might put it,"it is not without some trepidation that I have rated your writing as less than optimal." Unless you're going for a "Lady or the Tiger" ending, where the dear reader fills in the conclusion of the story, it is your responsibility as a writer to just plain say what you mean.
 

Theo

   Yesterday he almost got in trouble for breaking away from the group, running ahead down the sidewalk in Bennington. But he ran to the car, and opened the passenger door----for me. He stood there while I got in, holding the door,  and THEN he asked me if I was ready for him to close the door. The gallant little soul.

Loss of Taste

I don't cook any more, but every so often I get tired of peanut butter sandwiches and chocolate-filled Oreos,  and they do, evidently, contribute to weight gain. So I try something different.
  A few weeks ago, I tried a no-flour banana bread that Kelly Ripa cooked, on Mother's Day maybe. They salivated over it; my attempt went in the trash.
   Memory is short so today I tried another recipe, for "Peanut Butter Banana Oat Balls---The Perfect Sweet Snack." They were neither perfect nor sweet, and not a snack, not for me anyway.
   Most peculiar was my search for nutrition in the form of the new Campbell's Well Yes Soup. I tried their offering of Butternut Squash Apple Bisque. It sounded tempting. Except for the temperature of the product, one hot, one cold, I would find it difficult to distinguish it from the new Orange Vanilla Coca-Cola.

The Return of the Mower

 It left here April 16, 2019 and came back this afternoon at about 2:45.  So long ago I didn't recognize it. The guy was nice enough to put it in the shed. He's still here, in the driveway.  His truck broke down and he had to call for help. I told him he should bring it in to the shop for repair.

Channeling Aesop

I remember we couldn't stop laughing...

So lucky

I won $1 on a Lotto ticket last week. But back in the day...

Valley Falls "Idol"

Word of the Day

TREBUCHET

The Homestead

I drove by our old house today, and there were people on the porch. I see ghosts.

Taken Aback

  Earlier in the week, the dental hygienist asked how I was going to celebrate the Memorial Day weekend, if I was going to have a barbecue. I can't recall what I said, but I'm sure I deflected. She must have thought I was "one of them."

Non-believer: Family Cynic

  At last we all get to rejoice in a truly feel-good story. A hiker found in good  condition after 17 days lost in the forest. And now, I hear from someone (anonymous source) who does not believe this scenario in the slightest. What a downer. Though, in truth, I wondered why an experienced hiker would leave her water bottle, as well as her cell phone, behind when she set out. I make sure to take mine when I go to Schaghticoke.
   I just heard this morning on TV,  from some renowned scholar, that the challenge the world faces from now until forever is how to determine truths. I think he's right.

Snake in the Grass--Now Snake Up the A**

This critter holds its ground, in this case my front step. It doesn't even move when I walk by. Oh, well, at least something comes to visit.
  **I hope that thing at the end of its tail is the so-called pseudo-rattle,  a type of defense. I didn't hear it make any noise.

Brown's Beach---Last century

OMG Is it bathing suit weather yet?                                                                                               

Back in the Day...

It's a jungle out there.,

 I walked through the tall grass this afternoon, picking up the sticks and branches from last night's winds, in anticipation of the return of our Cub Cadet. Even though I'd sprayed my shoes with tick repellent, several hours later, I found this:  I suppose he could have crawled on my hands. I washed my hands, but now I'm off to the shower.

Cemetery: A few thousand more words

Anne Kelly, Dorothy's loving friend, regularly visits her grave and lays three small stones on top of the monument. For good fortune, she says.
**The brass plaque at Daddy's grave has the bottom right corner turned up, likely from the mower. It is very sharp, possibly could be hammered back into shape.

Cemetery May 24, 2019

A picture's worth a thousand words.

Walgreen's

  I see the sign is up. The other day, walking by, I asked the man standing in the open doorway why there were new RITE-AID signs. He kind of smiled and said, they were not signs, but banners. Okay.

Still Dreaming...

 He had a dream the other night that his father had called him, asking his help. Their car was stuck in the parking lot of a department store on Broadway in New York City. He wanted to go help them, but he couldn't get out of bed.

RIP Ryan Murray

   Dorothy was very pleased with The Murray Group, her insurers. And especially with the demeanor of the young son who had just entered the family business. He had evidently asked if she knew anyone who might want to avail themselves of their services, so she gave him our name. I had agreed because Dick Lohnes had retired from the insurers we'd had since I got my first car, and we'd heard his brother Bob was planning to sell the company. So we were open to change, though not really pursuing it at the time.
   So Ryan Murray came to our house to present his appraisal of our situation, and how we could improve it. He noted that our present insurers had not updated the value of our home, and thought that was an important oversight.
   So we agreed. I had the conversation with Dave later, as he wasn't home during Ryan's visit. He most likely was on the golf course. The quote produced by Ryan is dated August 23, 2005.
    The quote was financially to our advantage, to some extent. But what sold us (me) on the new policy  was the representative. Ryan was young, handsome, enthusiastic and polite. And so young. He was 26.
   I read his obituary in today's paper. He died at the age of 40 after a 19-month battle with Multiple Myeloma. He left young twin sons.

We still have our auto and home insurance with that agency, though the name changed from The Guilderland Group. I don't think we ever filed a claim.
**Adjoining Ryan's obituary is that of  Kathleen Goyette Napoli, who is most likely the wife of Grace Napoli's youngest brother, Daniel,a twin of David.

No. I didn't.

   I did not call you, Mena Budhoo, or anyone else all day long. She said she was returning my call, asked who I was, insisted I'd called, just a short time ago, she said. I had made NO calls at all, and told her so. She confirmed it was my number, but she must have read it wrong. Maybe she's dyslexic.

Proms---Then and Now

Sunday, May 19 7:30 a.m.

Forecast is warm and humid, temperature may reach 80. I say bring it on.

Caring Doctors We Have Known

   I've been thinking about Dr. Hugh Foley, and the care he extended to his patients.He was as busy as any doctor could have been. Yet he would call, unsolicited, at intervals, to check on your progress, especially if he suspected an issue of some sort. Of course he never charged any fee for his caring. He was not alone in that type of care, either.
    Pediatricians William Grattan and Martin Symansky would do the same. I remember calling Dr. Grattan's office for a sick baby. He was not in the office but on duty at the hospital, St. Mary's. He said to bring the baby into the hospital and he would meet us there. He did, we entered an examining room, and Dr. Grattan examined the baby ( I think it was David) and diagnosed and prescribed for him. He charged nothing for that visit. Dr. Grattan went above and beyond ordinary care when David was bitten by a dog and hospitalized. He took extra measures to insure that the dog was seized and immediately examined for rabies, saying that even though the dog had received its rabies shots, it had acted in an aggressive way against an infant on public property and needed its brain to undergo pathology asap. He took the necessary legal steps to insure the process was carried out.
    Danny once was knocked unconscious by a pitched baseball at practice. I drove him to the emergency room, and who showed up but Dr. Symansky, who had heard what had happened on his then car phone. He was as usual cheerful, thorough, and so reassuring. He charged no fee for that appearance.
   I read several years ago that he had remarried and had young children. I just looked him up and found he is still practicing pediatric medicine, even accepting  new patients. Dr. Symansky is one year older than I am.

Suffering from IMI ?

   Sometimes it's not so trivial or humorous to suffer from persistent Involuntary Musical Imagery (IMI).  You  may know it as an Earworm or Brainworm, the phenomenon sometimes called  Stuck Song Syndrome. You hear "Baby Shark" for example and you can't stop humming the refrain.  The musical imagery keeps repeating itself. Often it's a tune you don't even like, or more likely the lyrics, that you say drive you crazy--those catchy tunes.
   Almost everyone has been  subject to this occurrence from time to time, as have I. But never so persistently as for the last five or six days when I cannot stop hearing the lyrics of "The Gambler."  So, as is the case in searching for any information at all, I googled. I found a wealth of information and opinions about Earworms.
    There are simple suggestions as to how to rid your ears /brain of the worm:  Listen to other music, have a conversation with someone, do a crossword puzzle, read a book, chew gum, even listen to the "stuck" song over and over again. I tried all but two of these cures: (1) I can't chew gum any more, as I'm afraid my teeth, or at least my fillings, will adhere to the chewing gum and fall out. (2) I can't find anyone to have a conversation with, and certainly not about earworms. Moreover, what listening to the song over and over did resulted in my now knowing all the lyrics, not just "You gotta know when to hold them, know when to fold them."
   I searched further, and found the earworm  syndrome has caught the attention of a great many writers over the years,in  fiction and nonfiction genres.
     Science fiction writer Arthur Clarke proposed in "The Ultimate Melody" that the phenomenon is fitted in with the brain' s fundamental electric rhythms, the circadian rhythms. His protagonist attempted to apply these rhythms, but was overcome by their power,  and was left in a permanent catatonic state. Mark Twain posited in a story that the only way you can get rid of these musical repetitions is to transfer them to another person. You can imagine how that worked out. Even contemporary television shows, like The Big Bang Theory, have dealt with the subject.  There are tales of madness and other horrors relating to this topic.
   Interesting reading, but not really any help.  The most plausible explanation I came across is that the earworm, the imagery of  musical repetition, is the  psychological manifestation of attempting to block out unwanted thoughts. I think that might be true. Only I would prefer to  block out morose or melancholy thoughts with a perky little jingle. Part of what I hear is :
     "Every gambler knows that the secret to survival is knowing what to throw away, knowing what to keep.
     .For every hand's a winner, and every hand's a loser, And the best you can hope for is to die in your sleep."
 

Prom

I modestly aver that my pictures are so awesome because the subjects are not looking directly at the camera, would be even more awesome if combined with a steadier hand and a better camera.