Thursday, 4 August 2011
I’m having one of those blogging moments when pithiness is a fading dream. Meanwhile, look at those colors along the trailing edge of the lower wing!
* Sorry, KW; this makes two days in a row of these insects….
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
For the first time since we got here, we visited the flower garden near the assisted living place. Mom picked up a new friend, which spent some time on her foot (a Keen accoutrement), and then moved up to her hat. We worried that when we tried to enter the building, s/he would come with us, but evasive maneuvers worked.
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Meet Waldo the Bumblebee, aka Waldo of the Bombus clan.
Waldo likes purple fleurs.
Complete the sentence: Waldo is a busy ___.
Thanks for your participation.
No infringement on copyright or intellectual property intended….
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
What does it mean that the fennel has fallen atop the bee balm—and now the bees are on the fennel blooms and not the bee balm?
This is the third summer for the fennel, which we did not grow in mid-Michigan gardens. Of course, it is only in its third summer because I have not harvested the bulbs.
I’m not used to vegetables that overwinter.
Saturday, 18 June 2011
I know it’s June, but the mayfly hatch must have just happened.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
The driver carefully urged these woolies down the road, then honked and moved left, and they went through the fence into a field, like a dirty-white living waterfall. Then he drove up a few more car lengths and left the van with a crook in his hand.
I wondered if he had an iPod in his pocket that I couldn’t see.
After all, the nice retiree from Columbus Oh Aitch that we met in Ragusa Ibla yesterday was listening to his nano before we started chatting—he’s been living in RI since retiring from the military fifteen years ago.
Saturday, 12 March 2011
Not sure what the deal is, but this camera does not capture purple shades correctly, I’m convinced. This flower (in the lower left) was dark lilac or similar, not, at least to my eye, a shade of blue.
As I look back on today, the energy went two opposite ways. The fun way was a family dinner orchestrated by BRB-n-me. Just terrif, although I neglected to pepper the tuna steaks. Which we managed to enjoy anyway. (Smile.)
Then, after dinner I found out a friend and colleague got trapped in one of those Juarez kidnappings. Now released, whew.
I think I’m just going to go to bed and await a new day. Albeit with a sneaky time change….
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
I don’t know if it’s the angle of the bright sunshine or the statue’s shape—or both—but I find this hare (not rabbit, it appears—look a the ears,* size, and body shape!) rather menacing.
Rabbits, hares, well, the hoppy critters abound in folk tales—ancient and modern.
Of course, the most legendary modern rabbit** I can think of is, hmm, Google tells me the “real” name: The Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog.
I must admit that it really wasn’t the rabbit that I found most compelling about the Killer Rabbit scene, but the bit about the Holy Hand Grenade.
From the Monty Python and the Holy Grail screenplay, quoted in WikiPee:
And the LORD spake, saying, “First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin, then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it.”
Glad I spotted this beast in full sunshine…in the dark—whew!
* I’m a poet? (That’s FUUNN-EEEE!)
** Of course, there’s also Bugs Bunny, but he’s a cartoon, and not “real.”
Sunday, 20 February 2011
Kate is rambunctious. She is still a puppy. Kate lives down the street.
Her education goals for this year are to learn not to jump up on people.
Although she may not know this.
Sunday, 23 January 2011
Tucked away on a rock, I found this bronze sculpture over in the ABG. A cloud-layer made the sky dull, so my eyes looked down more than up, or I think I would have walked right by. I’m still not clear if it’s a frog or a toad*.
Some Southerners dodge this problem by calling this type of amphibian a toad-frog. There’s some wisdom to not fussing about taxonomic fine points.
More than anything, I think it resembles a dinosaur!
* Another Spanish lesson: rana o sapo = a frog or a toad.