Weather and ornithology

Weather is all around us. Dry or wet, cold or temperate, weather is a constant companion and an endless source of the stuff of idle conversation. It is the muse of songs and the earnest concern of every porch-sitter since the invention of the porch and the rocking chair. Weather is the minutiae vitae of every day in the life of every man, woman and child who ever lived.

Hahahaha, sounds like an intro to a school report, doesn't it? Anyway, boy, was the weather agreeable yesterday. High 50s, and pretty much the same today albeit with some lazy clouds, fog, obfuscating the view of the mailbox this morning. I'm not enjoying it much though with some kind of bug settled in. Ack, hack, wheeze...! I should be idling on the divan of sickness but I've got rubber and paint to apply so here I am, greasing the wheels of basement arts and crafts with mugs of hot tea and chicken broth for the third day in a row. Ack!

On a positive note, I complained recently about the neighborhood birds shunning our feeders in view of the front window. I guess the little buggers take some time to get the lay of the land because they've made themselves right at home lately. I've seen any number of sparrows, titmice, even a big ol' blue jay one day. Several sparrows flitting about this morning, from the suet cage to the seed house to the burnt toast pitched on the lawn for their enjoyment. One little fella sidled up to a female pecking at the toast like he was asking, 'Is this crust taken, miss?' Haha. Then they fly away one some errand and make room for the next visitor.

Speaking of school reports, my second grade oral report for Mrs. Bubb was on the general subject of birds. Her husband was a curator at Lancaster's North Museum and I was permitted to borrow two eggs from the museum collection- hummingbird and ostrich -to serve as visual aids for my little spiel. The obvious contrast between the teeny, tiny hummingird ova and that of the ostrich- it must have been five, maybe six inches in diameter -would illustrate nicely the variety of species one could find in the wide world of nature. I was so scared of speaking in front of the class it's a wonder I didn't pee my pants. (Which I did once in the first grade, I was a new kid in a new school and couldn't bring myself to raise my hand and ask to go. "Gee whiz, Beav! You whizzed in your pants right there at your desk?!?") Instead I deliberately left the eggs at my desk so I could take some time outta the presentation to breathe while I walked back to the desk to retrieve them. Mrs. Bubb wasn't fooled for an instant and I guess I got a demerit or a lesser colored foil star or something for my little diversionary tactic.

I don't remember the weather that day... hmmm...

Greasy fingers

   I've undertaken as few automotive projects over the years as I could given my decided lack of mechanical aptitude and general reluctance to scrape flesh-and-bone against overheated and unyielding metal parts. I can muster the courage to change oil every so often; mount the spare when a tire goes flat; add oil, gas and most other necessary fluids and wash and vacuum the things but that's about it. Well, it was either drop a coupla hundred on that water pump replacement or do-it-myself for fifty bucks worth of parts and the time and energy involved. My crying, sniveling wallet- pathetic little cowhide -won out and, with a little direction and a coupla tools from a shade-tree mechanic pal, I managed to unbolt the old and fit the new in place, change out the questionable thermostat (given the repeated superheating episodes of the past week) and refill the antifreeze solution in just under an hour and a half. Naturally, it called for a little end zone celebration dance in the kitchen when I got home. Hubba, hubba! Can't touch dis, yeah, baby! Next I'll be droppin' the tranny and torquin' the camshaft and... What did I just say?!?

   Now I gotta find a deal on tires and alignment and it'll be safe to drive again. I ask you, is a horse ever this much trouble?!? Somehow I doubt it.

Movin' out

    Movin' my little sister, that is. In a normal family- does such a thing even exist? -it would be a chore, sure, but maybe a somewhat convivial occasion as everybody pulls together for the common good of one family member. Suffice to say, this was not that kinda carnival.You know it's gonna be a thrill-a-minute and nothing less when, at the appointed and agreed upon hour of the morning, the first knock at the door is answered by a sleepy, shirtless stranger and not a creature is stirring in the rest of the house but two of the six cats and one of the two dogs. This in what is essentially a three room apartment with two- no, wait... three adults when you figure in the shirtless stranger crashed on the floor of the living room -with my sister and her wheelchair bound husband and two small kids. Close quarters doesn't begin to descibe it.

   Still, my mom, my aunt, my brother, my son and I made the best of it, dutifully loading bedding, refrigerator, washer, dryer, assorted boxes and bags of worldly goods and carting it all fifteen or so miles down country to a little burg called Collinsville and a little trailer court off the beaten track about a stone's throw and a good long spit from the Collinsville Drive-In where a nice, freshly painted and re-carpeted trailer house overlooking a meadow and a neighboring horse farm stood waiting. Mom and Aunt Jeanne had the daunting task of dusting and wiping down all the hard surfaces of things like the refrigerator and dressers before we moved them inside to their respective rooms, no mean feat to understate the case by half. At any rate, we got it all moved with only a few scrapes and sparks- mostly from my brother who is like a crusty, grumpy old man at forty-two and my wife, never a happy camper anymore where my family is concerned, much too much sticky history for 'warm fuzzies' where she's concerned -and I hope they'll make the best of it because it's a nice jump start for them with Mom taking over their bill-paying and more or less signing on the dotted line as landlady.

  In other news, the trusty Saturn is falling part with balding tires and badly shimmying front end and now a failing cooling system. It never rains but it pours with mechanical devices of every ilk, right? If someone offered me a toothless, sway-backed nag and said 'Gimme a twenty dollar bill and a back rub and I'll take 'er off your hands', I'd shake on it before the nag could bite, whinny or spit her disapproval. Meanwhile the Hyundai(Japanese translation: 'Mighty Crash Magnet')sits waiting still for body work and rebuilding of the right front wheel after it's repeated bashing into unyielding and fast moving objects.

   And still the sun rises every morning, yay!

Weekend Update

Oh, wait... It's not the weekend. I'm telling you, without the structure of the daily grind, the days tend to run together and I have to remind myself what day is what. Actually, weekends aren't tough to distinguish, no 'Cisco Kid' in the afternoons. Hah! Oh, boy...

Anyway, I've managed to update the family album a smidge, hence the entry title. Just a few snapshots from here and there, one or two new, most not. It's kinduva drag how the new pics go to the bottom, I guess it makes sense to somebody. A few had to be inserted further up the page anyway since I try to put them more or less in chronological order. And I moved all- well, not all -the guitar pictures over to a separate album lest the 'family album' should be taken over by the guitar photos that conquered the world. So there are a few new shots in the guitar album too, nothing too dramatic, coupla pics I used on the late-barely-lamented website for my erstwhile band. Fun stuff.

And it's so much fun, making those Yahoo! photo albums- not to mention free! -I'm thinking of adding another album to make a record of the toy/memorabilia collection. For insurance purposes more than anything. Wait, I don't carry insurance on the collection... Doh! I don't know. If I could upload the pictures faster, but it takes forever to shoot them, transfer them to the computer, resize them, name them, sometimes re-name them for the online album, arrange them just so and so on... A lot of the stuff is on the Bonanza site already- I added a slew of new pages with some of the stuff I have from 'Other TV Westerns' in the past few weeks -but none of the superhero/action figure stuff has it's own showcase. Like I need another non-profit project!

This morning

...the tour of the burg was distinctly marked by smells. Vanilla, dryer exhaust and wood smoke. The first I'd swear was the product of a passing truck except that's well nigh impossible. No truck makes a smell like that! Not cloying or sickly sweet, just a wafting aroma tinged with that creamy, off-white flavor. Go figure. Like a room candle but this was scenting up the whole street. And dryer exhaust, one of my favorites, no doubt. My mum used to go to the laundromat where, being an easily amused wee tyke, I colored and traced the pictures in my Batman coloring books to the comforting scents of clean laundry and that warm, humid feeling of the clothes dryers permeating the whole place. I wondered at the wood smoke and whether it's possible, to someone learned in woods lore, to tell the smoke of one wood versus another. I'm sure it is but I can't do it. Nevertheless, it's a pleasant reminder of the wood stoves and fireplaces my folks had at home for most of my formative years. I had a small stand-up stove at a former residence and it was neat to fire it up and sit on the sofa watching the little window glowing red and orange, sipping a hot chocolate to warm the inside.

In other news: I spoke too soon regarding Nick's Momma from The Sugar Bowl, Millersville's home of the original pepperoni stromboli. Quite naturally assuming the intervening years had taken her to her rest, I stated that must be the case in a previous entry in this forum. 'Not so!' says an email message as follows:

Read your December 24th entry.  Just thought I would let you know that Nick's Mother is not dead.  I just saw her a couple weeks ago.

Kyle Cassidy
Sugar Bowl Manager

How 'bout that? Gladsome news, certainly. A good excuse to head east at the earliest opportunity and sample the current condition of their stromboli makin' at the old Sugar Bowl. Thanks, Kyle, for checking in and settin' me straight!

On the road

...with my grandfather this week, the last weekly drive to Hershey PA for his outpatient procedure. Six weeks we'll go back for a followup and see what happens after that. He has a million stories, I guess, and I've heard a couple of them more than once now. A few favorites have to do with his tenure with the highway department and especially the politics involved; Republicans v. Democrats, hiring, firing, re-hiring, union wrangling and so forth. But there are others about guarding an armored truck, driving an egg truck, housepainting and paper hanging, vacations with my grandmother, his Sweetie Pie, north to Maine and Canada, west to Wyoming, Washington and California. Fish story this week about a late family friend and how they spent a certain day on some lake, catching nothing but catnaps and sun but pleased with themselves anyway. Ended with a capsizing at the dock and a story to tell their wives about who was at fault. Funny stuff because I remember this fellow and his droll sense of humor and straight-faced wit, I can see him telling it sleepily but obviously relishing the devilment he was containing all the while. A good laugh over breakfast at the Elizabethtown Diner, formerly the neighborhood Hardee's. I've eaten a lot of breakfasts here and there but I've never been served faster. I swear the waitress has hardly finished writing when the food is on it's way, amazing.

In other news, I finished my first paying art job- if you don't count my homespun toymaking, that is -in I can't say how many years. Actually I haven't got the check yet but from all reports the client, her boss, the printer and other parties to it's unveiling were all pleased. I hope they're as pleased with the bill because it racked up a goodly number of hours- which I slashed repeatedly since I don't count myself a 'professional' at this juncture and am therefore likely to dawdle where the more experienced hand might speed right along. At any rate, it's a good first step and should result in a little exposure at very least- 15,000 copies of the magazine will be sent to doctors offices, nursing homes, senior centers and the like. And off to one corner of one quarter page advertisement for spill-proof carpet will be a teeny blurb saying DrawnbyWes@aol.com. So the resultant stampede of businesspeople in need of a cartoony character, building rendering or what-have-you will know where to drop a line to get that guy who did this minor masterpiece. Nothing like a little self-assured bluster to bolster the confidence, right? Ay-yi-yi!

Sights

I have seen in the past week or so: A pileated woodpecker flitting across the road to land in a tree, where else? One of those big, red-crested birds like Woody Woodpecker was modeled after, no doubt. Not rare, I suppose, but rarely seen by me at least. I thought it would be great to park and try to get a closer look but I was on my way somewhere. Somewhere important I guess. I used to take the back way home from my last workplace every so often, along the river, nice scenic drive. There were horses and one wooded section where deer crossed like they belonged there. And the riverfront where you could almost always see ducks, Canada geese and sometimes a big, long-legged great blue heron flying low over the water. Very cool with their giant wings. One of my prints from my college days was a drawing of an airborne menagerie- a gorilla, a turtle I decided looked like John Lennon, a few other furry creatures -aboard a flying sailboat. And a big, heron-like bird flying underneath the keel. I don't know whether I have a copy of it anymore...

The Cisco Kid and Pancho. Bought a DVD for a dollar at one of my fabric/craft stores haunts. I'm all in that TV cowboy mode right now and, boy, I remember these guys from watching as a wee tyke. I guess this is probably the oldest western show I'm familiar with seeing as it dates from 1950. I know they still ran it early in the morning when I was, I dunno, four,  five maybe, woulda been '65 or '66. But they are straight arrows and funny, man, are they a hoot. Especially Pancho with his 'mixed up' Spanglish. Cisco is all fancy dress with embroidery and silver buckles and never gets dirty even after rasslin' around with some rustler in the dirt. Cool.

Two horses standing nose to nose in a field. I joked that they were kissing and should get a room. But it makes you wonder just what they are up to, what goes through their horse brains? Just smells and... what? I don't know. You know, sometimes we attribute emotions or intentions to dogs and cats, doing what they do when they're probably just thinking about food and a place to sleep. But what about a horse? Or a cow, for that matter? Are they just thinking the same except outdoors? Can you even call it 'thinking', I wonder? Like sometimes when I'm nappish and lazy on a rainy afternoon, I'm just thinking about curling up somewhere and drifting off, more of a feeling than a thought out plan of action. Like now... zzzz....