Caption Contest: No Wonder, Woman.
When the favored daughter of Zeus offers to jostle you about at a high rate of speed, should you refuse?
Does this Diana seem entirely trustworthy? Would she work at the State Fair if everything was, you know –– cool with her? She scares the bejeebers out of me.
Still, in the spirit of competition and fun, write a funny caption in the comments below and a lucky winner will receive a surprising trinket in the mail as a prize. Or possibly a bar of homemade soap. Good luck!
Birdwatching: Who IS that?
These little birds show up at every bird-feeder I've ever loaded, north and south. And they've baffled me, I should be ashamed to admit, more than once.
Flipping through the book, muttering: scarlet-headed seed-snatcher, rosy-knobbed chirper, raspberry-flavored song sparrow...Then, there it is, again, House Finch.
House Finch. Huh. Pretty pink houses, maybe.
But okay, House Finch.
It surprises me when someone says, "Oh, I don't know the words. I just listen to the music."
PS: And on the other hand, we have songs like Louie Louie.
The words are so indistinguishable that you can put whatever comes to mind into those slurred lines, and all you are left with as a listener is a passionate understanding for the need to leave.
I know it's supposed to be a sea-shanty, but honestly it could just as easily be a call to take up needlepoint or remove potatoes from the stove. Wooah, baby, me gotta go.
The boss, Captain Alva, was perhaps the most mature and sensible adult male I'd known up till then. He offered positive, actionable advice when asked and took joy in the highlights of the day. Still does.
Inevitably, after a sunset cruise, the friendly fishing folk hanging around Merry Pier would ask how the sunset had been.
Because I love to get the laugh, I usually answered with something flip, deadpanned for shock value: "Aw, you know –– same old same old. It was a re-run. Saw it last week."
We often end the sunlit day at the beaver pond.
We put a two-seater deer stand up a pine tree so we can get above some of the mosquitoes and see beyond the fringe of cattails that surrounds the pond.
The beavers –– true to stereotype –– clock in at dusk and work their fannies off maintaining the mud dams. They are reliable as clockwork, chugging through the water like mammalian tugboats.
With the right show, we can watch re-runs –– one most devoutly hopes –– for years.
Even if you didn't know the name –– a combination of "article" and "list" –– you've probably clicked through one of these short articles. They promise valuable content in a compact package, which seems ideal.
Formula? Take an integer + an over-the-top modifier and noun + a promise and Bob's your uncle. Like this:
27 Times Bacon Has Changed the Course of Modern History (Number 3 Will Make You Swear Off Eating in Restaurants!)
It's kind of addicting, actually, once you get going:
35 Things You Absolutely Need to Know about Roqueford Cheese
The numbers alone make me stop and think. I consider the cabalistic weight of them: are they prime numbers? is it whenever the data ran out?
And I wonder -– is it better to have
17 of the Most Adorable Hedgehog Videos
or 13 of the Most Adorable Hedgehog Videos?
Trick question: There are not EVER enough adorable hedgehog videos in the world.
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