3:00 a.m.: I hear something. I open my eyes and the Voice, that lives in my head, is looking at me, eyebrows arched high above its eyes. "Say it ain't so.", I mumble.
The Voice is smiling. No, it is more of a smirk. "You wanted a dog." it whispered.
3:15 a.m. I come to the conclusion Runtly isn't dreaming. He needs to go out. This is not the norm, only once before has he had to go out in the middle of the night...aka very early morning. I roll out of bed, grab my robe and slide my feet into a pair of flip flops.
As with all animals, except humans, Runtly has no sense of time. He is just as happy to see me at 3:15 a.m. as he is at 3:15 p.m. We head down the hallway to the front steps. Half way down, he stops. Through the dim light of the upstairs hallway, I can see the reason why. He had left me another prize by the front door last night. Houdini pooper strikes again. I don't know how he does it. We watch him like a hawk soaring over a freshly mowed field looking for a mouse, and he still manages to elude us.
I'm not happy and Runtly knows it. I turn to give him my exasperated tone of voice and mad face. In return, he begins to pee....on the stairs......down the stairs.....like he had not peed for several days. I am thankful there is no carpet on the steps.
3:25 a.m. Runtly and I are marching back and forth in front of the house. Again, I come to another conclusion.....I am up for the day. The moon is orange, like a pumpkin. Supposedly it is because of the forest fires in Alaska and the smoke has been traveling in the jet stream. I ponder about this.
3:45 a.m. I'm fully dressed, with my hair fixed, cleaning up above mentioned mess. Runtly wants to help.
4:00 a.m. We are sitting on the front porch, listening to the birds wake. Runtly wants to bark.
4:44 a.m. Referred to as "angel time". I do not see any, perhaps they are sleeping in. I've checked my email and answered a few correspondences. I've listened to Runtly gnawing and wallowing a deer antler all over the hardwood floor.
5:00 a.m. Runtly goes back to bed.
5:30 a.m. I'm on the front porch again. I hear a happy "Good Morning!" My oldest daughter is out for her morning walk, with Runtly's mother. I return the greeting and add that I have been up since 3. I tell her why I have been up since 3. I tell her I wanted a dog. She throws her head back, laughs, wishes me a good day and disappears around the corner.
5:34 a.m. The weather app on my phone says the sun will rise in three minutes. It says the sky is clear and the visibility is 100 miles. They must be standing somewhere other than here to make those calculations, but what the heck, I've got three minutes till sun rise, might as well watch it.
5:37 a.m. I'm standing on the back deck. No clear skies, no sunrise, just a whiter shade of pale. Now I have a song stuck in my head.
5:45 a.m. Tigger, the cat, is thrilled to see me. He does not get much lap time since the dog has arrived and makes himself comfy. I pet him, listening to his snorty purr. He begins to slobber on my shirt.
6:00 a.m. I make a mental note to buy stock in the company that makes lint rollers.
Probably going to be a two pot o' tea day.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Monday, June 29, 2015
What's Going On?
When the mighty media in this country, and maybe everywhere else, gets on a roll, they sure know how to stir up the masses. Most times, the subject matter is really not all that important. But it is over inflated, blown way out of proportion and the majority of the people jump right on the band wagon.
The news media has been filled with items of fluff. I really do not care if someone decided to change their gender. I really do not care who marries who. I really do not care what some celebrity has to say, from their lofty mansions, about the rightness or wrongness of this country. I really do not care to hear about crooked politicians, as that seems to be the norm. And I really do not care what team picked what person to whack a ball, kick a ball, throw a ball or chase a ball in order to have the best season ever, not to mention make a crazy amount of money for doing so....but then, I'm not too sportsy. It's all fluff stuff.
For those striving to be Christ like, a lifelong journey, I have always felt that if He were silent on the subject, so should we be. "Judge not, lest you be judged", seems like pretty good advice.
What concerns me the most when the nonsensical news is whirling around like seed pods off a maple tree is, what is going on behind the scenes? What is it we are being distracted from that really makes a difference in our lives? When the masses are marching around like a herd of sheep, where are they being led?
Pay attention and be watchful.
The news media has been filled with items of fluff. I really do not care if someone decided to change their gender. I really do not care who marries who. I really do not care what some celebrity has to say, from their lofty mansions, about the rightness or wrongness of this country. I really do not care to hear about crooked politicians, as that seems to be the norm. And I really do not care what team picked what person to whack a ball, kick a ball, throw a ball or chase a ball in order to have the best season ever, not to mention make a crazy amount of money for doing so....but then, I'm not too sportsy. It's all fluff stuff.
For those striving to be Christ like, a lifelong journey, I have always felt that if He were silent on the subject, so should we be. "Judge not, lest you be judged", seems like pretty good advice.
What concerns me the most when the nonsensical news is whirling around like seed pods off a maple tree is, what is going on behind the scenes? What is it we are being distracted from that really makes a difference in our lives? When the masses are marching around like a herd of sheep, where are they being led?
Pay attention and be watchful.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Instant Life
On this day in 1812, Britain, unaware that America had declared war against it five days earlier, rescinded its policy on neutral shipping, a major issue of contention between the two countries. (Today's Highlights in History, JJC newspaper)
This is not a history lesson of what eventually led to the War of 1812, but perhaps a lesson in communication.
It took nearly six weeks to cross the Atlantic Ocean. The ships were still sailing by wind power. The telegraph had yet to be invented so the only means of communicating with each other was either by actual word of mouth, or a letter.
Maybe the ships tag-teamed across the ocean, tossing their bags of mail from one ship to the other. I really have no idea, but I would certainly have had to write down whatever the message was because in six weeks, I would have forgotten what I was supposed to tell the recipient.
From the end of that war until the present, astronomical progress has been made in means of communication. Instant communication is at our fingertips. We can talk, text, twit and Snapchat with anyone we please, at anytime we please and the message is delivered instantly.
Growing up, the first instant thing I knew about was tea. Back then, I thought the stuff was great. No longer was it necessary to brew real tea leaves to make a glass of ice tea. Now, I much prefer the real thing. The next instant item was mashed potatoes....and, well......with enough salt, pepper and butter.....anything will taste better.
It is a wonderful thing to be able to see a new baby or some other good news instantly. Families can keep in touch even if there are thousands of miles between them. But, when anger raises its ugly head, it is too bad there isn't an instant off function that would override the message. This would give people a cooling off period, a time to reflect, before they put a hateful, hurtful message out for all to see. It takes a lot of energy to stay mad and a time out session would maybe let them realize being mean just isn't worth it. If anger could only be communicated face to face, there would be a lot more "happy" floating around. Hopefully, some technological communication wizard is working on a bliss button.
Yes, we live an instant life. I'm still waiting for the instant weight loss though, because the only way I'm going to lose 20 pounds overnight is if my leg falls off in my sleep.
This is not a history lesson of what eventually led to the War of 1812, but perhaps a lesson in communication.
It took nearly six weeks to cross the Atlantic Ocean. The ships were still sailing by wind power. The telegraph had yet to be invented so the only means of communicating with each other was either by actual word of mouth, or a letter.
Maybe the ships tag-teamed across the ocean, tossing their bags of mail from one ship to the other. I really have no idea, but I would certainly have had to write down whatever the message was because in six weeks, I would have forgotten what I was supposed to tell the recipient.
From the end of that war until the present, astronomical progress has been made in means of communication. Instant communication is at our fingertips. We can talk, text, twit and Snapchat with anyone we please, at anytime we please and the message is delivered instantly.
Growing up, the first instant thing I knew about was tea. Back then, I thought the stuff was great. No longer was it necessary to brew real tea leaves to make a glass of ice tea. Now, I much prefer the real thing. The next instant item was mashed potatoes....and, well......with enough salt, pepper and butter.....anything will taste better.
It is a wonderful thing to be able to see a new baby or some other good news instantly. Families can keep in touch even if there are thousands of miles between them. But, when anger raises its ugly head, it is too bad there isn't an instant off function that would override the message. This would give people a cooling off period, a time to reflect, before they put a hateful, hurtful message out for all to see. It takes a lot of energy to stay mad and a time out session would maybe let them realize being mean just isn't worth it. If anger could only be communicated face to face, there would be a lot more "happy" floating around. Hopefully, some technological communication wizard is working on a bliss button.
Yes, we live an instant life. I'm still waiting for the instant weight loss though, because the only way I'm going to lose 20 pounds overnight is if my leg falls off in my sleep.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Yes, It Is
One thing about living in the Great Mid West is the fact that if the weather doesn't suit you, stick around, it will change. Usually, daily.
The weather here recently has been rainy. Not just rainy, but more like a monsoon season. When it rains, it does not rain in measurements of tenths, but in inches. The creeks are overflowing and the rivers are wreaking havoc on the people who live close to them. Lots of folks have been considering building arks.
All this rain tends to make people grumpy. Many years ago, when the girls were little and I ran a day care out of my home, I remember it rained or was cloudy for 26 days in a row. I don't care who you are, 26 grey raining days with a house full of kids would test the patience of Mother Teresa. It was depressing.
The neighbors' sump pump has been running for days and shoots a long stream of water down the sidewalk. Every time Runtly and I walk by, there is a line of toads and tree frogs, with little surf boards under their arms, waiting to ride the next torrent of water. It's quite a sight.
Along with the rain, comes the humidity. The air is thick and heavy with moisture. It's so humid that if you stand outside in one place for too long, moss will grow on your north side. Why, just the other day I opened a bag of ramen noodles, put them on a plate and set it out on the deck. They were ready to eat in about two minutes. The goldfish have been swimming in the air above the pond and this morning I saw a buffalo gnat wearing goggles with tiny windshield wipers on the lenses.
Yep, it's that humid.
The weather here recently has been rainy. Not just rainy, but more like a monsoon season. When it rains, it does not rain in measurements of tenths, but in inches. The creeks are overflowing and the rivers are wreaking havoc on the people who live close to them. Lots of folks have been considering building arks.
All this rain tends to make people grumpy. Many years ago, when the girls were little and I ran a day care out of my home, I remember it rained or was cloudy for 26 days in a row. I don't care who you are, 26 grey raining days with a house full of kids would test the patience of Mother Teresa. It was depressing.
The neighbors' sump pump has been running for days and shoots a long stream of water down the sidewalk. Every time Runtly and I walk by, there is a line of toads and tree frogs, with little surf boards under their arms, waiting to ride the next torrent of water. It's quite a sight.
Along with the rain, comes the humidity. The air is thick and heavy with moisture. It's so humid that if you stand outside in one place for too long, moss will grow on your north side. Why, just the other day I opened a bag of ramen noodles, put them on a plate and set it out on the deck. They were ready to eat in about two minutes. The goldfish have been swimming in the air above the pond and this morning I saw a buffalo gnat wearing goggles with tiny windshield wipers on the lenses.
Yep, it's that humid.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Lost Faith
The first time I saw him, I didn't think too much of it. Since I'm becoming the nosy little old lady in the big house, I don't miss much in the neighborhood and I figured he was just passing through. The second time I saw him, I thought he might be lost.
I put a post on the social media giant FB to see if someone knew who he belonged to. The response I received nearly broke my heart.
This neighborhood wanderer is a dog. He's a large breed dog, a collie mix and he has been on the lam for over a year. It seems he has been abandoned, but no one knew to whom he had belonged. After reviewing all the comments, I realized what I had been seeing on my daily walks with the ever so entertaining Runtly, made sense.
We pass by an unoccupied house everyday. At the back of this property is a bush that has a large hollowed out cavity at the base. Every time I have looked at it, I've always had the thought that some animal had to have made it. Several of the comments supported this theory, along with the time frame, and I was amazed that I had not seen the dog before.
A couple of weeks ago, Sister Lela came for a visit and she accompanied the ever so entertaining Runtly and myself on one of our many jaunts around the block. As we approached the above mentioned property, we were chatting about the previous owner and looking around the house when we came across this dog. He was backed into a small enclosed area with only one way out. Having already told Lela about the dog, she stood in front of the only way out and began talking gently to him. The dog had no use for gentle words and uttered a low warning growl. I'm standing there, telling her to get out of the way. I reminded her that she was already down in the hip and if he bolted and knocked her down, it was going to be ugly. She finally stepped back far enough and the dog made his get away. I took Lela and Runtly home and told her she could not go on any more walks.
The dog has since found another unoccupied place to live but he needs to be caught. That is from where my next brilliant idea has hatched. I'm going to try to capture this dog if I can find a live trap big enough to hold him. Then I will need to find someone willing to rehabilitate him and to provide a good home. Perhaps I should do the second part of my plan first, because I can not keep this dog.
This dog has lost his faith in humanity, sometimes I think I understand why.
I put a post on the social media giant FB to see if someone knew who he belonged to. The response I received nearly broke my heart.
This neighborhood wanderer is a dog. He's a large breed dog, a collie mix and he has been on the lam for over a year. It seems he has been abandoned, but no one knew to whom he had belonged. After reviewing all the comments, I realized what I had been seeing on my daily walks with the ever so entertaining Runtly, made sense.
We pass by an unoccupied house everyday. At the back of this property is a bush that has a large hollowed out cavity at the base. Every time I have looked at it, I've always had the thought that some animal had to have made it. Several of the comments supported this theory, along with the time frame, and I was amazed that I had not seen the dog before.
A couple of weeks ago, Sister Lela came for a visit and she accompanied the ever so entertaining Runtly and myself on one of our many jaunts around the block. As we approached the above mentioned property, we were chatting about the previous owner and looking around the house when we came across this dog. He was backed into a small enclosed area with only one way out. Having already told Lela about the dog, she stood in front of the only way out and began talking gently to him. The dog had no use for gentle words and uttered a low warning growl. I'm standing there, telling her to get out of the way. I reminded her that she was already down in the hip and if he bolted and knocked her down, it was going to be ugly. She finally stepped back far enough and the dog made his get away. I took Lela and Runtly home and told her she could not go on any more walks.
The dog has since found another unoccupied place to live but he needs to be caught. That is from where my next brilliant idea has hatched. I'm going to try to capture this dog if I can find a live trap big enough to hold him. Then I will need to find someone willing to rehabilitate him and to provide a good home. Perhaps I should do the second part of my plan first, because I can not keep this dog.
This dog has lost his faith in humanity, sometimes I think I understand why.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Dog Doos & Don'ts
If I could throw a rock really well, I could land it in a corn or soybean field. Living on the edge of a small rural community, there is never a lack of local wildlife. We have opossums, raccoon and lots of red squirrels but, on occasion, there have been white tail deer in front of the house. A couple of years ago, we had a fox that raised her litter of eight in the culvert at the end of the block.
If you have followed along with tRuth As I See It, you know we have a dog, Runtly, the Jack Russel Terrier. Potty training this dog has been something of a learning curve experience. Right now we seem to be on the downhill side.....which was the first uphill side. The guide book for above mentioned breed of dog states it can take up to eight months for them to "get it". It is my deepest hope that on June 29th something magical happens. He has become a master at the disappearing and pooing act. I thought I was on top of this game until I had walked him for over 30 minutes only to return to find he had already left me a prize by the front door......inside the front door.
Runtly is a lot of things, but brave isn't one of them. Oh, he sounds brave when he is on the enclosed back deck, but when it comes to fight or flight, he always chooses flight. He does not like sirens, either in real life or on the television, or honking horns.
As I was standing outside the other morning, I could hear a flock of geese approaching. I thought Runtly would enjoy this new nature experience and called for him. The geese were getting closer and I picked him up so he could watch them. There must have been at least twenty or more and they flew right over at tree top level, in a perfect V formation........honking. That was enough for Runtly, all he wanted to do was get back in the house as fast as possible.
Another recent addition to the wildlife scenario has been a flock of five turkey buzzards. I see them almost everyday, lazily riding the warm air thermals circling round and round. Yesterday while I was on the back deck, one flew over. It was very low and had a couple of grackles in hot pursuit. I looked down at Runtly and he had a look of terror in his eyes. His tail was drooped and he was trying to crouch down to make himself smaller. I opened the door and he shot straight to his crate and stayed there for over an hour.
It's pretty obvious that Runtly is not and never will be a bird dog, but I'm thinking one of those inflatable garden owls hanging by the front door might be in our future.
If you have followed along with tRuth As I See It, you know we have a dog, Runtly, the Jack Russel Terrier. Potty training this dog has been something of a learning curve experience. Right now we seem to be on the downhill side.....which was the first uphill side. The guide book for above mentioned breed of dog states it can take up to eight months for them to "get it". It is my deepest hope that on June 29th something magical happens. He has become a master at the disappearing and pooing act. I thought I was on top of this game until I had walked him for over 30 minutes only to return to find he had already left me a prize by the front door......inside the front door.
Runtly is a lot of things, but brave isn't one of them. Oh, he sounds brave when he is on the enclosed back deck, but when it comes to fight or flight, he always chooses flight. He does not like sirens, either in real life or on the television, or honking horns.
As I was standing outside the other morning, I could hear a flock of geese approaching. I thought Runtly would enjoy this new nature experience and called for him. The geese were getting closer and I picked him up so he could watch them. There must have been at least twenty or more and they flew right over at tree top level, in a perfect V formation........honking. That was enough for Runtly, all he wanted to do was get back in the house as fast as possible.
Another recent addition to the wildlife scenario has been a flock of five turkey buzzards. I see them almost everyday, lazily riding the warm air thermals circling round and round. Yesterday while I was on the back deck, one flew over. It was very low and had a couple of grackles in hot pursuit. I looked down at Runtly and he had a look of terror in his eyes. His tail was drooped and he was trying to crouch down to make himself smaller. I opened the door and he shot straight to his crate and stayed there for over an hour.
It's pretty obvious that Runtly is not and never will be a bird dog, but I'm thinking one of those inflatable garden owls hanging by the front door might be in our future.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
We Still Don't Know
It was 5:30 in the morning when we heard it. We opened our eyes at the same time and my husband said in a sleepy voice, "What was that?" I did not know, but hearing strange noises in this house is far from uncommon.
This house we call home is one of four homes built with the same basic floor plan and all were constructed by the same man. His name was Robert Hall, but we have always called him Fred.
The legend of Mr. Hall says that he crossed the great divide between this dimension and the next in this house. For as long as I can remember, there have been doors open and close, footsteps in the hallway and other unexplained things that go bump in the night. Just last week I walked into my studio, previously a daughter's bedroom, and found both radio speakers laying on the floor. The speakers had set in the same place for months, perhaps Fred does not like my choice of music.
I've lived in this house for most of my life, other than a few years of sowing wild oats, and I have grown up knowing about Fred. A couple of months ago, as I was going down the basement stairs, something caught my eye. On the wall, written with what appears to have been a nail or an awl, was something I had never noticed. A name and a date. Robert Hall Nov. 5, 1921. I would hate to venture a guess as to how many times I have been up and down the basement stairs but I'm sure it would total somewhere in the thousands. How in the world had I not seen this before?
The early morning noise sounded like someone was dragging a chair across the back deck. Since I was wide awake, I got up and started the investigation. Nothing in the upstairs hallway seemed out of kelter, so I headed down to the kitchen. While my tea was brewing, I peeked out the back door and everything seemed in order there.
I always..... always.... go out the back door with my first cup of tea. But this morning the Voice, that lives in my head, told me to go to the front porch, on the south side. Since I have been paying better attention to the Voice, that is what I did. I opened the door, stepped out on the porch and there was the culprit of the early morning ruckus. The large maple tree, in my neighbor's front yard, heavy with days of rain, had split in half. Its once lofty boughs were now laying in my yard. Mystery solved.
It may not answer the question about when a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a noise, but it will wake you up.
This house we call home is one of four homes built with the same basic floor plan and all were constructed by the same man. His name was Robert Hall, but we have always called him Fred.
The legend of Mr. Hall says that he crossed the great divide between this dimension and the next in this house. For as long as I can remember, there have been doors open and close, footsteps in the hallway and other unexplained things that go bump in the night. Just last week I walked into my studio, previously a daughter's bedroom, and found both radio speakers laying on the floor. The speakers had set in the same place for months, perhaps Fred does not like my choice of music.
I've lived in this house for most of my life, other than a few years of sowing wild oats, and I have grown up knowing about Fred. A couple of months ago, as I was going down the basement stairs, something caught my eye. On the wall, written with what appears to have been a nail or an awl, was something I had never noticed. A name and a date. Robert Hall Nov. 5, 1921. I would hate to venture a guess as to how many times I have been up and down the basement stairs but I'm sure it would total somewhere in the thousands. How in the world had I not seen this before?
The early morning noise sounded like someone was dragging a chair across the back deck. Since I was wide awake, I got up and started the investigation. Nothing in the upstairs hallway seemed out of kelter, so I headed down to the kitchen. While my tea was brewing, I peeked out the back door and everything seemed in order there.
I always..... always.... go out the back door with my first cup of tea. But this morning the Voice, that lives in my head, told me to go to the front porch, on the south side. Since I have been paying better attention to the Voice, that is what I did. I opened the door, stepped out on the porch and there was the culprit of the early morning ruckus. The large maple tree, in my neighbor's front yard, heavy with days of rain, had split in half. Its once lofty boughs were now laying in my yard. Mystery solved.
It may not answer the question about when a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a noise, but it will wake you up.
Monday, June 15, 2015
When Pigs Fly.....Or Not
It was late, after 9 p.m., and I was giving some serious thought to going to bed. Maybe I would settle in and find some show about UFO's, one of my favorite subjects, on the television. About the time I was having these thoughts, the bedroom door burst open and my husband said, "Come on! Let's go for a ride!". I thought surely I was more tired than I realized, had fallen asleep and was dreaming.
That was not the case. This was real and I was thinking who was this person who looked and sounded like my husband. "You've got to see this lightening!" It's important to understand something about my husband.....Mr. Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love rarely shows emotional excitement....unless he is standing in the middle of a car show full of old muscle cars.
Figuring that the outdoor phenomenon was worth viewing, I hopped up and we made our way to the garage. We drove north out of town, took a couple of country back roads, dodged a couple of deer and turned north again before coming to a stop. He was right. The lightening was extraordinary. It was several miles from us, but it never stopped. The lightening was streaking across miles of clouded sky, creating an amazing light show. I stepped out of the car, said a silent prayer that I would not get trampled by another deer and began to video the scene. We drove on a little farther north and enjoyed this natural performance before heading back to town.
As we entered our small community of 1200 souls, we were greeted at the first four-way stop by another natural phenomenon.
There, in the middle of the road, sat a pig. Not just a pig, but a sow. Not just a sow, but a huge ma-honkin' sow. If she had been standing, her head would have been higher than the hood of the car. We turned right to head up through the main part of town and before we had driven a block, there were two more huge pigs in the street.
This bacon parade was causing quite a stir with some of the locals and I called the county sheriff's office to see if they had any reports of pigs on patrol. They chuckled and assured me they had and an officer was on the way. We drove home and wondered if this was a planned pork escape or just a faulty latch on the gate.
A recent newspaper article stated that Illinois ranked in the top five for states with the most UFO sightings. Imagine my excitement when, the next afternoon, I watched the video of the lightening show. Traveling across the screen was a small white object, that had not been seen the night before. Towards the end of the recording, this small white object zipped out of sight.
I was elated! I had proof! I shared it on Facebook! It had over two hundred views in just a few hours!............and then I set down and watched it again. That is when I discovered the anomaly in the video had something to do with the zoom function on the camera...sigh....it was fun while it lasted.
We later learned the truck carrying the hooved Houdini's came back for the pranky porksters. The driver got out, put the ramp down and all three simply walked up the ramp back into the truck.
Pigs may not fly and I did not film the greatest UFO sighting ever, but the next time my husband says "Let's go for a ride!", I'll not think twice about it.
That was not the case. This was real and I was thinking who was this person who looked and sounded like my husband. "You've got to see this lightening!" It's important to understand something about my husband.....Mr. Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love rarely shows emotional excitement....unless he is standing in the middle of a car show full of old muscle cars.
Figuring that the outdoor phenomenon was worth viewing, I hopped up and we made our way to the garage. We drove north out of town, took a couple of country back roads, dodged a couple of deer and turned north again before coming to a stop. He was right. The lightening was extraordinary. It was several miles from us, but it never stopped. The lightening was streaking across miles of clouded sky, creating an amazing light show. I stepped out of the car, said a silent prayer that I would not get trampled by another deer and began to video the scene. We drove on a little farther north and enjoyed this natural performance before heading back to town.
As we entered our small community of 1200 souls, we were greeted at the first four-way stop by another natural phenomenon.
There, in the middle of the road, sat a pig. Not just a pig, but a sow. Not just a sow, but a huge ma-honkin' sow. If she had been standing, her head would have been higher than the hood of the car. We turned right to head up through the main part of town and before we had driven a block, there were two more huge pigs in the street.
This bacon parade was causing quite a stir with some of the locals and I called the county sheriff's office to see if they had any reports of pigs on patrol. They chuckled and assured me they had and an officer was on the way. We drove home and wondered if this was a planned pork escape or just a faulty latch on the gate.
A recent newspaper article stated that Illinois ranked in the top five for states with the most UFO sightings. Imagine my excitement when, the next afternoon, I watched the video of the lightening show. Traveling across the screen was a small white object, that had not been seen the night before. Towards the end of the recording, this small white object zipped out of sight.
I was elated! I had proof! I shared it on Facebook! It had over two hundred views in just a few hours!............and then I set down and watched it again. That is when I discovered the anomaly in the video had something to do with the zoom function on the camera...sigh....it was fun while it lasted.
We later learned the truck carrying the hooved Houdini's came back for the pranky porksters. The driver got out, put the ramp down and all three simply walked up the ramp back into the truck.
Pigs may not fly and I did not film the greatest UFO sighting ever, but the next time my husband says "Let's go for a ride!", I'll not think twice about it.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Road Trippin'
Having the opportunity to get away for a couple of days, my husband and I embarked on a 501 mile road trip. It's always good to get out and see how other folks live and have a change of scenery.
Our journey was part of a seven cities in seven days cruise sponsored by Hot Rod Magazine and is so titled, "The Hod Rod Power Tour". This year's tour started in Madison, Wisconsin and ends in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. We have done the entire trip several times in the past, but this year we only did two 'legs' of the tour. If a person is a car nut, well......you think you have died and gone to Muscle Car Heaven.
There are thousands of cars and thousands of people who come from all over the country to revel in tons of steel that has been primed, painted, polished, buffed, geared to the highest horse power possible and pampered beyond description.
Each day's route to the next destination always takes the road less traveled and does its best to stay off the interstates. All though it takes a lot longer to travel two or three hundred miles off the beaten path, it is well worth it. In one day we had traveled through nearly thirty small towns.
The people who know the tour is coming through their town line the streets in lawn chairs or their own 'project' cars to watch, wave and take pictures.
Some people had fancy cameras with long zoom lenses set up on tripods. Most of the people used their cell phones and we saw one car that had a 'selfie stick' hooked to the front of their car....to record successful burnouts.
The most amusing picture takers were the ones using their i-pads. There they'd be, holding this device, which covered their entire face, recording the action. It made me think of the old box style camera with a black cloth drape that the photographer had to hide under in order to take the picture. I wanted to call out to them that they were missing the best part, but they seemed content to watch real life in a digital format.
We saw the skyline of a major metropolis and the wide open spaces of a river valley filled with growing crops. We saw meticulously manicured lawns and some that were waist high with weeds. We journeyed through places we had never seen before and came home feeling the better for it.
Life on the road, it's sounding better all the time.
Our journey was part of a seven cities in seven days cruise sponsored by Hot Rod Magazine and is so titled, "The Hod Rod Power Tour". This year's tour started in Madison, Wisconsin and ends in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. We have done the entire trip several times in the past, but this year we only did two 'legs' of the tour. If a person is a car nut, well......you think you have died and gone to Muscle Car Heaven.
There are thousands of cars and thousands of people who come from all over the country to revel in tons of steel that has been primed, painted, polished, buffed, geared to the highest horse power possible and pampered beyond description.
Each day's route to the next destination always takes the road less traveled and does its best to stay off the interstates. All though it takes a lot longer to travel two or three hundred miles off the beaten path, it is well worth it. In one day we had traveled through nearly thirty small towns.
The people who know the tour is coming through their town line the streets in lawn chairs or their own 'project' cars to watch, wave and take pictures.
Some people had fancy cameras with long zoom lenses set up on tripods. Most of the people used their cell phones and we saw one car that had a 'selfie stick' hooked to the front of their car....to record successful burnouts.
The most amusing picture takers were the ones using their i-pads. There they'd be, holding this device, which covered their entire face, recording the action. It made me think of the old box style camera with a black cloth drape that the photographer had to hide under in order to take the picture. I wanted to call out to them that they were missing the best part, but they seemed content to watch real life in a digital format.
We saw the skyline of a major metropolis and the wide open spaces of a river valley filled with growing crops. We saw meticulously manicured lawns and some that were waist high with weeds. We journeyed through places we had never seen before and came home feeling the better for it.
Life on the road, it's sounding better all the time.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Just The Facts Ma'am
What is it about human beings that makes fiction more interesting than truth? Is it just in our nature? Even book titles that are described as non-fiction implicate the absence of something and I reckon that 'something' is imagination.
It never ceases to amaze the amount of hoopla that can be created by ignoring the facts. The recent upheaval in Ferguson is an excellent example. No one listened to the facts.
Twelve people lost their lives in a stampede on the Brooklyn bridge due to a rumor that the bridge was about to collapse.
It only takes a search on Google to find numerous incidents where tragedy was the results of rumors, non truths, fiction.
We are the only creatures on the planet that do this. I guess we enjoy the attention that comes with fiction as we search for our fifteen minutes of fame.
It gives new meaning to the phrase, "silence is golden" because it is pretty obvious the best way to avoid these nasty situations is to keep still. Don't share your troubles with someone you think you can trust, trust has a very thin shell. Keep them to yourself, write them down on a piece of paper and then burn it. Let the smoke rise to a higher plane, a higher being. If you think this isn't true, tell something completely outrageously fiction to someone you think you can trust and see where it goes. If it goes nowhere, you have found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
I hope to be wiser and from now on I will use a lot more of today's 'word of the day' on the dictionary app..........floccinaucinihilipilification. It means, "the estimation of something as valueless. I would try to pronounce it, but that would start a new round of fiction.
It never ceases to amaze the amount of hoopla that can be created by ignoring the facts. The recent upheaval in Ferguson is an excellent example. No one listened to the facts.
Twelve people lost their lives in a stampede on the Brooklyn bridge due to a rumor that the bridge was about to collapse.
It only takes a search on Google to find numerous incidents where tragedy was the results of rumors, non truths, fiction.
We are the only creatures on the planet that do this. I guess we enjoy the attention that comes with fiction as we search for our fifteen minutes of fame.
It gives new meaning to the phrase, "silence is golden" because it is pretty obvious the best way to avoid these nasty situations is to keep still. Don't share your troubles with someone you think you can trust, trust has a very thin shell. Keep them to yourself, write them down on a piece of paper and then burn it. Let the smoke rise to a higher plane, a higher being. If you think this isn't true, tell something completely outrageously fiction to someone you think you can trust and see where it goes. If it goes nowhere, you have found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
I hope to be wiser and from now on I will use a lot more of today's 'word of the day' on the dictionary app..........floccinaucinihilipilification. It means, "the estimation of something as valueless. I would try to pronounce it, but that would start a new round of fiction.
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