“Miraculously God has already done it. Don’t tell them She put it on Amazon instead.” ~ Cheryl Morgan*

El Paso Times, Texas, January 15, 1938

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

Friday afternoon, sunny (finally) and cooler, 69 degrees.

We’re trying to wean Roland from the bottle as he’ll be two months old tomorrow, but it’s hard as anytime he sees Zeke getting a bottle, he wants one. I just called Roland to try to get him away from Corey, who was feeding Zeke (a lot of names here, huh?), and Roland actually slid across the coffee table to get to me. I think that one of these goats is getting too big for the house . . .

Today’s collection is brought to you by Benadryl, what I’ve been slathering on my body for weeks now to try to calm the itch. Benadryl. It’s good for what ails you.

Seriously though, I may never venture outside again. Anyway, enjoy.


File under: Amazing but True—People have always been this way . . .

Pittsburgh Daily Post, Pennsylvania, April 5, 1850

I like to think that this was written just for me:

Celebrating the summer solstice:

I never knew this:

Didn’t know this either:

Cant tell if I’m more bothered by the pigeons or more in tune with the captions:

We take the freshness of our biscuits very seriously, indeed:

The Victoria Daily Times, British Columbia, February 21, 1931

My immediate first thought was how can he possibly afford this:

This is kind of arrogant. I mean, what if Mars already has a calendar system?

And finally . . . I shouldn’t be surprised by anything, any more:

The Miami News, Florida, March 8, 1938

*From an article in the Guardian about a Christian group petitioning the wrong company to cancel Good Omens . . .

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 . . .

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”