If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, cloudy, scattered thunder showers, cooler, 71 degrees.

Well, no sitting outside today. The skies have been mostly overcast, and the temps have dropped 5 degrees since noon.The dogs are restless because they haven’t been able to play out in the fresh air all day. We’re supposed to have falling temperatures and rain through the weekend, but then a nice week following. I’m trying to convince Corey that it would be a good weekend to paint. Here’s hoping.

I do have a good collection for today, so I hope that you enjoy.

More later. Peace.


I love the little things they used to put in daily newspapers:

Mauch Chunk Times-News, Pennsylvania, October 10, 1931
The Journal Herald, Dayton, Ohio, February 10, 1947

Cats in bars . . . why not?

by Arna Miller and Ravi Zupa
by Arna Miller and Rava Zupa

I never knew this:

A moment (momentum) was a medieval unit of time. The movement of a shadow on a sundial covered 40 moments in asolar hour. An hour in this case means one twelfth of the period between sunrise and sunset. The length of a solar hour depended on the length of the day, which in turn varied with the season, so the length of a moment in modern seconds was not fixed, but on average, a moment corresponds to 90 seconds: A day was divided into 24 hours (of unequal lengths, twelve hours of the day and the night each), and an hour was divided into four puncta (quarter-hours), ten minuta and 40 momenta.

This used to be me every morning when the kids were growing up; now it’s me every time the roosters crow:

Yep.

I have to give it to this man—I cannot begin to imagine being bitten by a snake even once, let alone 170 times:

Must have this now . . .

or maybe this:

And finally, I just love this:

1976 public unveiling of the NASA prototype, Space Shuttle Enterprise. On hand were crew members of the original ship, USS Enterprise (NCC-1701)

 

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, rainy and much cooler, 56 degrees.

Big change in the weather today. Woke up to heavy rain, and the temperature is at least 20 degrees cooler. Had hoped to start painting the bedroom today, but Corey pulled a muscle yesterday. More of a lazy day anyway.

Have a few leftovers. Enjoy.


Every single day of my life . . . (found on Frenums):

Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd . . . Loony Tunes forever:

Can totally relate: 

Am I the only one who thinks that these are cool?

The Fugio Cent is the first official cent of the United States. It was designed by Benjamin Franklin. While very available in lower grades, rare examples in excellent condition are highly sought after by collectors.

And finally, from This Isn’t Happiness on tumblr:

More later. Peace.


Music by Black Label Society, “Spoke in the Wheel” (Unplugged):

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Today’s Self-Portrait: Lots of Movement that Gets Me Nowhere

“Can we really conquer chaos so easily? If that were so, I should be able to prune the pandemonium of my own soul into something neat and tidy rather than this maze of wants and needs and misgivings that has me forever feeling as if I cannot fit into the landscape of things.” ~ Libba Bray, from The Far Sweet Thing

Friday afternoon, overcast but mild, 66 degrees.

I’m in one of those moods. Yep. Could it be day five of this unending migraine? Awaking each morning at 4 a.m. for no particular reason and being unable to go back to sleep? Eating stale tortilla chips and salsa because I’m craving salt and now I have incredible heartburn? The fact that I’ve been trying to write Tuesday’s post for 4 days and can’t get past the poem?  Continuing/unending issues with just trying to live our lives?

All of it? None of it?

Whatever . . .


Oh, the good old days . . . kind of . . . you know, Spanish flu deaths, diseases, sexism, racism, rampant poverty, fascism . . . no, wait . . . yep, that whole making us great again thing . . .

Harrisburg Telegraph, Pennsylvania, June 26, 1913

Found on irisharchaelogy’s tumblr:

From Ultrafacts.com (love this one):

Many of these old trees were dying or had died and, despite their age, were destined for a meeting with a chainsaw. Tingle, however, saw potential in the old trees and over time transformed many of them into remarkable works of art. They are located in Orr Park, Montevallo, AL (Fact Source)

This one reminds me of how Paramount’s mountain logo faded to the mountain in Raiders of the Lost Ark:

I love drinks with paper umbrellas; it’s like Hawaiian Punch:

From anxietyproblem’s tumblr:


Music by Lauren Daigle, “You Say”

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday evening, sunny, and 58 degrees.

No walk today. Became obsessed with trying to find something I’d seen before online but couldn’t remember the exact name or where I first saw it. So . . .  many hours later, it was already 5 p.m.

Enjoy.


Dorothy and Golden Girls forever:

So, who’s been spying on me?

I’m not ashamed to admit that I really miss “Rugrats.”  I think that I liked it more than my sons did:

And this is why I no longer allow myself to enter a T.J. Maxx:

And finally:

Clarion-Ledger, Jackson, Mississippi, December 14, 1937

“Perhaps we’ve never been visited by aliens because they have looked upon Earth and decided there’s no sign of intelligent life.” ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson, astrophysicist and all around truth teller

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, clouds and rain, 52 degrees.

Sorry no post yesterday. One of the horses, Petra, was very sick. According to Dallas, sometimes horses get sick from eating too much green grass too quickly. Anyway, he picked her up in the horse trailer and worked with her, giving her electrolytes, and some concoction for constipation. Corey went back over last night to double check on her and make sure that Dallas hadn’t just shut her up in the barn. Fortunately, he was pleasantly surprised as Dallas was genuinely taking care of her.

I won’t even get into details on the last thing he did when one of his horses died, but suffice it to say that had I been present, I might have beat him with his cane . . .

Anyway, while he was here, Dallas also loaded up Amy, Boots, and Franklin. He had said that he wanted to separate Franklin from any of the mares that might be going into heat, which is fine, but I still don’t know why he took Amy or Boots. He assured Corey that he’d return Boots and Petra. At least he knows not to touch Napoleon.

More later Peace.


We should all strive to be the people our dogs imagine us to be. Just saying . . .

I can actually see something like this happening . . .

I don’t know if this one is true, but it’s what I imagine I’d do if ever I was forced to be a greeter . . .

What the hell are people learning in school lately? Anything? Anything? Bueller? Bueller?

Is it sad that I can relate to this kid?

Me, at the end of “Orphan Black,” or “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” or the upcoming final season of “Game of Thrones.”
And finally, I will always, always, post Nurse Rat-chit:

Music by Phantogram, “Black Out Days”

 

“I swing on a continuum between ridiculous and sublime.” ~ Amit K. Ghosh

 
If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, more rain, 47 degrees.

I really think that it doesn’t rain nearly enough around here . . . not. The only good thing about all of the rain here is listening to it at night as it falls on the tin roof.

Anyway, sorry no post yesterday. I could think of nothing to say. Corey spent the day in bed as it’s his turn to be sick. Honestly, I wonder how long we’ll swap this bug, whatever it is. He’s better today, but he was also better earlier in the week, so who knows . . .

I’m fairly certain that the header quote is a take on Marshall McLuhan’s quote, “All through his life, he swung between the ridiculous and the sublime,” which comes from his famous 1964 book, The Medium is the Message.

(Just an aside here: I cannot believe how many people online think that the word is massage, not message . . . We really need to go back to spelling tests in grade school.)

Pretty good collection today, so enjoy.

More later. Peace.


Michigan ghost apples caused by extremely cold temperatures (found here):

Yep.

Also yep:

The Baltimore Sun, Maryland, February 8, 1932

This reminded me of how my old dogs used to try to get on the hammock with me . . .

Completely logical:

From This Isn’t Happiness:

I used to love this show:

And finally:

“Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.” ~ Aldous Huxley, from Complete Essays 2, 1926-29

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, overcast and drizzle once again, 54 degrees.

Don’t even get me started on the presidential faux state of emergency.

During the night when I opened the door to let the dogs out, I was hit in the face with the smell of impending spring, which is miraculous considering we have horses and the accompanying smell of equine eau du poo. It almost made the sleeplessness worth it. Almost.

I began a post on Monday, picked it up again yesterday, and still haven’t finished it. So . . . should I finish or scrap it and start over? Thoughts, opinions, ideas?

Anyway, enjoy today’s collection.


I want a red hat that says this:

Seen in the window at Gulf of Maine Books in Brunswick, Maine. Photo: Bill Roorbach

I want a baby elephant . . .

Why all of the reminders about my age?

The entire automotive industry was against seat belts at one time. Now, they spend all of their time trying to out do one another with more and more safety features. Go figure . . .

I cannot even begin to list the number of times this happened to me when I had to get up for work . . .

I love this one:

Sounds about right:

And finally this:


Music by Cardboard Kids, “Echo Boomer”