Tag: North Carolina

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ICRTD Hurricane Edition

You know, I was part way through a post about my recent travels and with the way my phone has blown up the last couple days, I figured it might be prudent to address the weather.  I’m not sure if you’re aware, but as it turns out A HURRICANE IS COMING AND IT’S GOING TO MAKE LANDFALL IN NORTH CAROLINA!!!!!!

First off, let me just express gratitude for all the family and friends that have called/texted/DM’d/Messaged me the last few days to make sure I’m safe.  It kinda shocked me, but then I realized it’s because I’ve got the coolest friends on the planet and I appreciate each and every one of you, whether you reached out to me or gave me a few moments thought out of your day.  So thanks, I’m humbled, truly.

Now, to The Storm (capitalization mine) that approaches…

Among the reasons I chose central North Carolina were the consideration that any hurricanes that might come this way would, in theory at least, weaken significantly by the time it came in this far.  Believe me, I have no desire to “tough it out” when it comes to 100+ mile per hour winds and 25+ inches of rain all at the same time.  I have what I consider a healthy respect for Mother Nature.  Being a native Midwesterner I experienced several tornadoes over the course of my life, some closer than others, but I knew enough about them to know that it was foolhardy to try and stare one down.  Tornadoes, of course, are fairly short-lived phenomena.  Hurricanes, as I’m sure you are aware, last for days.  If the experts recommend I should evacuate, I’m gone.

Now, please don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t mean to suggest any of the concerned calls or offers of a place to stay were out of line, rather I know they were placed out of genuine concern for my safety.  And again, I appreciate you.

The initial storm track after landfall was actually fairly close to me, within fifty miles or so.  But even at that the storm that was expected to pack winds around 125 mph and dump 25″-30″ of rain on the coast was only expected to bring 30 mph winds and 3″-6″ of rain to this part of the state.  Granted that’s larger than a typical storm, but perfectly manageable, at least to me.  As long as the storm doesn’t produce six weeks of sub zero temperatures (you know, like January in northern Illinois) I think I’ll be fine.  Further, as of about 45 minutes ago the National Weather Service Hurricane Center now predicts the storm will move south and west after landfall, crossing through South Carolina instead of North Carolina.  I haven’t seen the local updates yet, but I feel safe in assuming that will lessen the impact of the storm on this area even more.  Of course, I’ll continue to monitor the updates and I promise not to do anything (too) stupid once the storm finally gets here.

I mean, after all, who wants to be on Florence’s list?  Amirite?

Peace

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Life With Lilly Episode 2

Not surprisingly, #LillyNO is still trending around here.  Although I must say, she’s not at all a bad puppy.  She is without doubt a puppy though, and prone to doing the things puppies are wont to do.  But I think, of the two of us, I’m the one more in need of training.  That, however, has been put on hold.

Two weeks ago I noticed she was limping, favoring her front left leg.  It wasn’t too bad so I thought just keeping an eye on it was the best course of action.  The next morning the limp was more pronounced so I scheduled an appointment at the Vet for later that day.  X-ray’s were negative, but the Vet suggested, and I agreed, a consult with an orthopedic specialist was prudent.  Quick side note; in her first week here she went from fifteen lbs. to twenty lbs.  Inside wide-eyed emoji anywhere you like…  So, earlier this week we drove up to Greensboro for our appointment.  Now, about four days after the limp started, it stopped.  Just as quickly too, it wasn’t a gradual thing, more like flipping a switch.  That the limp resolved (three days) before the ortho appointment had no effect on my decision to take her there.  I wanted to know if it was a thing or just a random puppy mishap.  And I tended to think it was a thing.  The whole time she limped, she wanted nothing to do with play.  She’d go outside to do her business and then go right back to the door so she could go back inside and lay down.  Or is it lie down?  Either way, getting horizontal was her only goal.  But once the limping stopped, she was back to full on puppiness; bouncing off walls, chasing toys, her tail, shadows, air, you name it and she chased it.  Interspersed, of course, with totally vegging out, often mid-chase.

The ortho Vet examined her, and the X-ray from our regular Vet, and said she thought it was a soft-tissue injury eg. sprain/strain.  She did say, however, that due to potential mechanism of injury, there was a possibility of damage to the growth plate in her left “wrist” and that it needed to be monitored.  She recommended a restriction of activity (uh-huh) for another two weeks and a followup exam and X-ray in one month to see if there were any differences in her growth plate.

So there’s that.

We’ve tried to take daily walks around the downtown area, for socialization with strangers more so than for the exercise, and she seems genuinely disappointed when people choose to ignore her.  I’m more surprised than disappointed.  I mean, I know not everyone loves dogs, but look at this face?  How can you look at that and not want to give her a good ear scratch or belly rub?  Or both?  But she carries on, undaunted by the refusals of crabby people, seeking the next friendly human to shower her with attention, because, god knows, she doesn’t get any around here…

That picture, while adorable, also points to one of her puppy bad habits that we’re working on.  Namely inappropriate chewing.  The leash she is very sweetly holding in the photo, is now in two pieces.  Yup.  One night while we were sitting in the carport, watching a storm.  Lilly was laying (or is it lying?) sweetly on the door mat.  Or so I thought.  She was, of course, on her leash.  I held the other end in my hand so she wouldn’t wander off.  At one point, she got up and walked over to a rug about three feet away.  And I thought to myself “huh.  The leash never moved…”  Looking down, I saw why.  She had chewed through it.  I was not pleased.  The leash had been Sophie’s, so there was that aspect of it.  But more that I had let my guard down.  Puppy gonna puppy, ya know?  It’s on me to prevent stuff from happening and not her.  So I lost a teachable moment.

And a memento of a great dog.

Don’t get me wrong, Lilly is a great puppy in her own right.  I have to admit though, it’s hard not to try to make comparisons between Lilly and Sophie.  They share many similar traits, yet are also completely different.  And both have a firm grasp on my heart.    I’ll never understand how some people can abuse animals.  This puppy unconditionally loves anyone that showers the slightest bit of attention upon her.  The thought of someone consciously turning their back on such a devoted creature and crushing it’s very soul sickens me.

Well, that took a turn…

This post has taken a lot longer to write than the last one.  A certain puppy keeps “yelling” at me until I get on the floor and play with her.  So we play.  She’s currently terrorizing one of her squeaky toys.  And, intermittently attempting to assault my Crocs…

Ahhh puppies.

Peace

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Life With Lilly Episode 1

This may take a while to produce.  If you haven’t kept up with the latest news on the dog front (and, really?  Why not?) let me explain… no, there is too much… let me sum up…

I got a puppy last week, Lilly, a four month-old Lab mix.

***Cuteness alert***

So, as it turns out, while I knew puppies required a lot of patience, since it’s been thirteen years between puppies I had forgotten just HOW MUCH patience.  In one short week  I’m afraid Lilly now believes her name to be LillyNO.  And I’m not even joking…

Well, maybe a little.  But I think I’m still going to turn that into a hashtag.  #LillyNo has a nice ring to it, right?

And don’t get me wrong, she’s worth it, I mean look at that face for chrissakes.  She is absolutely adorable.  And pretty smart too.  We’re doing really well with potty training; she’s had three accidents in the house to date, all due to my inattentiveness rather than her inability to learn.  We work on “sit” while on our walks and I’ve reached out to a local training facility for regular, real lessons.  But there’s still much for both of us to learn.

For example, I’d really like her to learn that the metal patio chairs in the carport are not, in fact, edible.  She seems to belive they are.  When I correct her, she immediately switches from gnawing on the chair leg to licking it, something I believe to be the canine equivalent to a young child saying “I’m not touching you” while holding an outstretched finger millimeters from it’s intended sibling target.

She’s becoming quite good at verbalizing when I fail to pay ample attention to her as well.  Just this morning I got barked at two different times while trying to read the morning news online.  One bark, followed by a whine in my general direction, and a playful pose, and she’s got me on the floor with her while she chews whatever she can reach, whether appropriate or not.

We’re doing pretty well at socializing too.  She loves meeting people on our walks and prances up to them full of glee.  She’s not quite sure (tbh I’m not either) what to make of people who aren’t thrilled to meet her, but they do exist. Who doesn’t love an adorable puppy?  I don’t think I want to know the adult that doesn’t speak some kind of treacly gibberish when they meet a puppy though, so I guess it’s a good way to weed out those sociopaths.

Also?  Treacly Gibberish sounds like a great name for a British boy band, don’t you think?

Oh, here’s a side benefit.  Lilly loves to eat bugs.  This is huge around here.  Apparently the climate that brought me to this area is also popular with the insect population.  I’ve seen bugs down here that I’ve never seen before.  I’m not even joking about that either.  Most have been harmless; except for mosquitoes, of course, and the occasional ill-tempered yellow jacket.  The bugs and I have an arrangement.  Stay out of my personal space and I might not squish you.  It should be noted however, my personal space is roughly 75 yards in any direction when bugs are concerned.  Also, every time I step on one (with great alacrity I might add), I look around, half-expecting to see Edgar from Men in Black glaring at me.

“Oh.  Was that your auntie?  Then this must be your uncle.”  *Crunch*

Sorry, I got distracted there by my bug obsession.  Fwiw, I’m bringing in professional help.  With the bugs, not me.  Some ships have sailed, you know what I mean?  I’ve tried the peppermint oil treatment (courtesy of PhojoMama™) but it’s time to go nuclear on their little creepy-crawly asses.  It’s not sadistic if we’re talking about bugs, right?

Btw, this has gone much smoother than I anticipated, “someone” chose this time to nap and, timing being everything, I’ve been able to work on this uninterrupted.  In all reality, there’s probably not a significant difference in quality, but it’s a little easier to stay in the flow without having to walk away from the keyboard every couple of minutes to check on the whereabouts of a certain inquisitive puppy.  Of course the trade-off is that she’s likely building up energy reserves for a full-on assault of my sanity this afternoon.  We may have a trip to Petsmart in our future.  Just sayin’  Especially if the rain that’s forecast comes in.  Fortunately Miss Lilly loves car rides.  I bought a smaller crate for her use on road trips and she’s taken to it readily.  She can’t quite jump up and in on her own yet, although she’s getting close.  But she lays (lies?) right down on her car bed and curls up without a peep.  She’ll be making the birthday road trip home with me next month so we’ll see how she does.  I’m already planning on making it a two-day trip both ways.  So far she’s handled up to two hours with no issue, but I don’t want to press my luck with a marathon car trip for her, at least not at this age.

She’s still passed out, so I think I’m going to wrap this up and try to accomplish some kind of domestic task that I’ve put off.  Pretty sure there’s laundry in the dryer waiting for someone to fold and I’m just the guy to do it.

Peace

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Meet Lilly

Well, here we are.  I’ve been away from my keyboard for a ridiculously long time.  I’m not sure why, it’s not like I haven’t had ample fodder for a post here.  Some of them have been bouncing around my head, some have even made it to draft form, but no posts.  Today, however, I’ve got something for you.

I’ve got something for me too.

If you’ve been reading along for the last year or so (You HAVE been reading longer, right?) you may remember I had to put Sophie down last fall (pour one out to a great dog) and if you’ve ever had a pet, you know how traumatic that can be.  I told myself I’d get a puppy after I came out to central NC, it would give me something to do while I got acclimated to my new environs.  I started searching PetFinder.com daily, looking for a Lab or a Lab mix.  I found several that I liked, even went to see a couple, but, when the time came to do something, the something I chose to do was… nothing.  I just couldn’t finalize the puppy situation.  I made rationalizations all over the place; too much travel, haven’t puppy-proofed the house, that one’s too small, that one’s too, well, you get the picture.  I had a hundred reasons why.

But then I realized, and may have even mentioned it here; it wasn’t that I missed having a dog.  I missed Sophie.  And I knew it would be a disservice to any puppy I might bring in until I got that through my system.   I continued checking the website (I knew I wanted a rescue versus buying from a breeder, so…) and I pondered life without a dog.  I have to say, parts of that life are kinda nice.  No pet hair to vacuum, no cutting plans short to feed, let out, whatever, the dog, no wondering who to watch the dog for out-of-town stuff, etc.

Something just occured to me, I’ve been building to this “moment” as I’m writing and, since when I post these links to social media it always includes an image from the post and, well, the title is kind of a give-away so…  about a week ago I saw this face-

And I knew I was smitten.  I mean how cute is that? I watched her and her sister daily, wondering each morning if I’d flip to the page and see that she was off the list.  I mean, it would have been good for her, she would have found her new family, but not so much for me.  Although I really did carry an “if it’s meant to be, it will be” attitude throughout.  Further research found that this particular shelter holds events every Saturday at their local Tractor Supply store.  The fact that it was two hours away wasn’t a deterrent as far as I was concerned.

Saturday morning I found myself wrestling with my decision; do I go?  Do I pass?

I went.  It was time.

She was very shy, in a kennel with three other dogs, including her brother.  Mom is a Chocolate Lab and Dad is apparently a Hound.  In more ways than one…  Her name was “Pumpernickel” because it seems when shelters get litters in, it’s easier to name them from a theme of sorts and this litters theme was bread.  I don’t know why.  However, despite an adorable audio clip of an almost three year-old Little Diamond saying “Pumpernickel” I had decided last fall that my next dog would be named “Lilly” and so that was that.  I filled out the form and was told she’d be put on hold until they could check a reference on me with my vet in Illinois on Monday.

I passed.

So, last night I drove two hours each way to bring Lilly to her new home.  She did great last night, only one accident in the house and that was my fault.  she was sniffing around and since she had just gone out a little before that, I asssumed she was just sniffing for the sake of sniffing.  LOL.  As I write this, she’s on the floor at my feet, chewing away on one of the toys I bought for her.

She slept through the night last night without incident (don’t ask where…)(but her $50 crate with the $30 bed were not involved) and ate her breakfast like a champ.  I probably need to boost the portion a little bit, but I’m being overly cautious with that since Sophie had a bit of a weight problem and I’d like to avoid that with Lilly.  I’ve got an appointment with a local vet for her tomorrow for a checkup and whatever else she needs.  Including any puppy classes they can recommend.  I’ll be out and about socializing her as much as I can, I believe that’s important for puppies (people too) so I’d like to work on that every day with her in various situations.  She’s a very sweet, very playful pup and she’s starting to take to her new name, I think.  That will take some time, as I expect will potty training too.  Such is life with a little one.

Be prepared for an onslaught of cute puppy pics… I know, I know; low hanging fruit, right?  She is, as the kids say, adorbs and I’m fairly certain will be more than a little spoiled (see sleeping arrangements above).

I’d write more, but right now there’s a belly that’s calling out to be rubbed.  And who am I to say no?  Well, to belly rubs, at least.  I have a feeling that there is going to be a lot of “No” being heard around here for a while.  #PuppyLife #WeAreBothLearning #HereGoesNothing #WishMeLuck

Peace

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This one goes to 11

Welp, this has taken me entirely too long to get to.  I was actually a little embarrassed when I checked the site the other day to see when my last posts had been (quite a while back) and I’ve had a busy last month or so.  As a consequence, I have much to write about.  I promise not to get too wordy here though.

Kinda…

I’ve got Tom Petty blaring at me whilst I work on this, it’s a holiday weekend Saturday morning, and life, on the whole, is pretty good.  Let’s get started.

I drove back to Illinois for an extended visit last month.  And I’ve already got to back up a wee bit; my travel weekend started with a trip about three hours southwest of me to Greenville, SC for a concert.  Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit with Richard Thompson as the opener.  Great.  Concert.  My hotel was literally across the street from the venue, which was kinda sweet in and of itself, but the show was just stellar.  I’ve been a Thompson fan for over thirty years and he’s an amazing musician.  If you’re not familiar, I highly recommend checking out his music.

The morning after the concert I headed north, and, as I’d intimated earlier, I split the trip into two days.  Pretty unremarkable journey home.  That’s a good thing, btw.  Especially if you’ve read any of my previous travel foibles.  You have, right?

My time in Illinois was spent with family, splitting my time between the homes of the Oldest One and the Quiet Child, but I spent time with all the kids and littles and it was delightful.  A lot of baseball games and softball games were watched and, by and large, thoroughly enjoyed.  I even got the see the Heir To The Throne hit his first high school home run, which was cool AF.

In addition to hanging with friends and family around home, I went to Springfield with nine other members of Local 3234 (our largest contingent ever!) for the state Legislative Conference.  So I got to hang with firefighter friends/union activists from across Illinois.  Spent a little quality time with some of the elected officials there, including a couple of after-hours gatherings in local watering holes.

Sorry, no stories will come from those escapades…

I got to hang out with the guys in the high-rise district for breakfast one Sunday (one of the best experiences of firehouse life), saw several friends and relatives for coffee (not all at once), I also swung by the cemetery to “chat” with Diane and Caitlin.  To be sure, there were several people (you know who you are) I had intended to get together with, that, for one reason or another was unable to, but there will be other trips home and I’m hopeful scheduling will be a little smoother.

The visit wrapped up with the 11th birthday of the Reigning Princess, which is where this pic was taken.  I can’t believe how big these guys are getting.  Pretty handsome group, no?  Speaking of time flying, when did I turn into an old man?  That’s a rhetorical question, btw, no comments necessary.

Just sayin’

I hit the road before 5:00 AM last Monday to head back to central North Carolina.  I guess karma was in my corner after the whole Memphis excursion, as this was also a really smooth trip.  The only time I used my favorite twelve letter word was to thank a fellow motorist, one with Wyoming plates on his car, for moving out of my way, allowing me to pass him easily.  I threw out the Bruce Willis line from Die Hard, you know the one.  I felt like it was appropriate given where he was from, you know, cowboys and all.   One of the high points was a lunch stop at the Bob (don’t hate, I like it) Evans restaurant in Chillicothe, OH.

Considering the rest of the clientele, I’m guessing the median age to have been 83. #83Nation.  There was also a bonus sighting of what I believe may have been the love child of auto huckster Bob Rohrman and novelist Steven King.  Yikes.  To make my lunchtime people watching even more interesting, I’m fairly certain there was a carny convention or something in town.  Again, Yikes.  But the blueberry pancakes were just the thing to get me to my next stop, one I plan for every trip between IL and NC, Beckley, WV.  I’ve never gone through the town itself, but I think it’s similar to Asheville, NC in that it is filled with artisans and has a kind of hippy vibe to it.  The rest stop/tourist center is filled with all kinds of locally made craft-y type stuff.  Blown glass, pottery, sculptures in both wood and metal and actually really good food.  If you’re ever traveling through West Virgina on either I-64 or I-77 you must stop and check it out.  Trust me.

Finally, from the “out of the mouths of babes” file, I’d like to quote the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby (he’s 6 years old already, I guess I’ve got to come up with a new nom de plume for him) “Grandpa Joe, you live far away.”

Yes, yes I do.  Smooth trip or not, it’s a long day on the road and I was glad to be home.  Let’s see what kind of nonsense comes my way so I can share it with you here.  But in the meantime, I’m going to head out to the shed and see what I can accomplish…

Peace

PS- what with the holiday weekend and all, I want to leave you with a PSA of sorts.  No, not my usual entreaty to not drink and drive, although, obvs.  Instead I’d like to ask you to take a minute to remember why this holiday exists.  Quite literally, thousands have given their lives to allow us the freedoms we take for granted today.  Let’s do our part to honor their memories and, to quote Labor Activist Mother Jones “Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living.”

Again, Peace

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Road Trips

Well, I had fully intended to do this yesterday, but adulting got in the way, as it is wont to do from time-to-time.  And in the true spirit of the subtitle to this blog “where I write things about stuff” I’m going to hit to all fields today.  Well from left-center to right-center, at least.

Since I’ve got my hyphen quota out-of-the-way…

Wait, one quick side note here.  I love adjectives.  And I love the storytelling aspect of writing.  Sometimes, when I come across a particularly beautiful piece of the art, I feel compelled to share it and I want to put this in here.  Background on it is this; William Nack was a sportswriter for Sports Illustrated for 23 years, covering, among other things, the career of Secretariat.  He passed away last week at the age of 77 after a fight with cancer.  For the uninitiated, Secretariat was (imho) the greatest athlete of all time.  As I read some of Mr. Nack’s stories, this line in his tribute to an amazing horse stood out to me.

“Oh, I knew all the stories, knew them well, had crushed and rolled them in my hand until their quaint musk lay in the saddle of my palm.”

It’s one of those lines that makes me want to write forever, the image it projects in my mind’s eye.  The article itself is a long read, but it’s stunning in it’s beauty, an homage to a greatness seldom seen and I highly recommend making the time to read it.

To the trip.

I left Memphis Sunday morning, heading back to central North Carolina.  I’d gone there for a concert and a little touristing, more about both later.  The impetus for this post was the trip from Hell.  Not really, but Sunday was one long ass day behind the windshield, let me tell you.  No, really, that’s why I’m doing this.

I got on the road about 8:00 AM central time and according to the GPS it was going to be about a ten-hour drive.  That’s about what it took me to get there on Thursday, so I had no reason to doubt it.  I knew there was a storm out ahead of me, but I was hopeful I could stay behind it.

Ha!

The first thing that jumped out at me (not literally) was the number of highway patrol cars out on the interstate, running radar.  And reaping the benefits of their actions.  I’m not sure why, other than the easy pickings due to the quantity of drivers with a heavy right foot.  I’m sure the Tennessee state coffers were enriched significantly that day.  If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they had a quota to meet too.  But, according to my friends with stars on their chests, ticket quotas (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know what I mean?) don’t exist…

I saw not less than eight officers in the first hundred miles moving east from Memphis.  I need to note here that none of them carried my name in their ticket book, so, that’s a win.  And, despite the need to monitor their presence, I was making good time.  Outstanding time, in fact.  I felt like I may have been able to shave at least a half hour off my travel time.

Until I caught the aforementioned weather.  About half way through Tennessee.  And can I just say that Tennessee is one wide damn state.  I mean, really.  Roughly 450 miles from Memphis to the North Carolina border on I-40 in case you were wondering.  As you might imagine (go ahead, imagine away) this length of trip, sharing the roadway with throngs of others, each with their own places to go (and a variety of urgencies to get there) may elicit an occassional bad word from yours truly.  By my count, a rough guess, but it’s still mine, I used my favorite twelve letter word (rhymes with “brother trucker”)  a minimum of 27 times.  This may surprise you, but I’m quite certain that if you ask the Oldest One or the Boy Child, they will confirm that is a reasonable estimate.  When they were much younger we would have to drive through downtown St. Charles fairly often and they learned some creative and colorful language earlier than they probably should have thanks to my reaction to the other drivers there.

It was somewhere east of Nashville, maybe an hour or so east, where I caught up with the rain.  An inconvenience perhaps, but not that big of a deal.  I had gained considerable time, so I really wasn’t all that bothered.  Until I got closer to Knoxville and hit a traffic jam.  About ten miles worth of a traffic jam.  That took me over an hour to get through.  So much for early arrival.  I thought I’d seen a sign as I approached the backup, something about a wreck ahead, but if that was the case it had long since been cleared up by the time I got through it.  Things flowed well for about an hour when, approaching the border, Tennessee traffic gave me one last body cavity search and for no apparent reason I hit another traffic jam in excess of thirty minutes.  Into North Carolina the rain picked up in frequency and intensity.  I made it into Asheville for fuel and coffee and figured I’d be home in three hours or so.

Again, Ha!

Figuring 8:30 for my eta home, an eleven hour plus trip was not ideal, especially the way it started out, but I was ok with it.  The volume of traffic had lightened considerably and the rain had pretty much stopped so things weren’t too bad.  Until I got near my exit.  Brief explanation, there are approximately 47 exits labeled route 64 on this stretch of I-40.  Ok, that’s not exactly accurate, but there are three plus one exit marked for the town of Mocksville, which is the first town I pass through on the way from I-40 to my home.  I, of course, chose the wrong one.  The best part of that choice was that I didn’t realize how route 64 curves.  When I choose the correct exit, I turn right to head home.  As I came up the exit ramp I realized I should have gone five more miles to the next exit.  But I had seen a sign advising another (#*@#*%) traffic jam and thought I’d stay on 64.

I turned right.

I should’ve turned left.

I was almost eight miles down the road when I saw I was heading west.  Pro tip, my home was east of me.  I turned around headed back to the interstate.  With callous disregard for a potential traffic jam I drove east on I-40 and made it to the correct exit.  Not a brake light in sight btw.  Insert eye roll emoji >here<.  Coming in to Mocksville I came up behind someone with an aversion to the speed limit.  And not in a good way.  What do you call someone who consistently drives 10-15 mph below the speed limit?  I call it the car in front of me.

I finally pulled in the driveway a couple of minutes after 9:00 PM.

This has caused me to rethink my trip home next weekend.  Not making it, I’ll still be in Illinois for an extended stay, but rather this; it’s a 14 hour drive under good circumstances.  I’m chopping that sucker into more manageable bites.

I don’t think my vocabulary is ready for another all day road trip.

Peace

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It’s A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Apologies to Fred Rogers, but I liked the sound of that title.

I may have alluded to this in earlier posts but, despite a recent downturn in temperatures here this past week, to my mind, Spring has sprung here in central North Carolina.  This, btw, works for me.  The oak trees haven’t started to bud yet, but a good number of plants in the neighborhood have started budding if not actually blooming as evidenced by this arrangement made from the neighbors Magnolia Bush – 

Lovely, no?  In addition to the Magnolia, which btw has an incredibly short bloom life, I’ve got a Camellia in my back yard that is also producing blooms like crazy – but in a tech flashback to a couple of months ago, I’m unable to share the picture with you.  Trust me, it’s beautiful… (expletive deleted WordPress…)

Here’s another thing I like the sound (kind of a rocky segue, I know, but whatevs.) of… this bird and if anyone can tell me what kind of bird it is, I’d appreciate it.  I’m not John J. Audubon-y enough to look it up, but I’m a little curious what kind of bird serenades me most mornings while I drink my coffee in the carport.  I’ve played this clip back for the birds sometimes, usually getting a response from him (her?) so far without getting dive-bombed as an interloper attempting to take over the little guys territory.  Although I must say I get a kick out of him (I’m pretty sure it’s a him, since I vaguely recall from somewhere that only male birds sing, either for prospective mates or to mark out boundaries) peeking between the branches of the not-yet-leafed-out bush he sits in to see where/who the other bird is.

But wait, there’s more from the This Week In Nature file…

Do female Robins look exactly like male Robins?  There’s a couple that frequent the neighbors back yard that are either –

A.) In a running territorial pissing match or

B.) in the build-up to an avian mating ritual

I can’t tell which.  They seem to stay in pretty close proximity to each other, hopping around the yard looking for worms.  If one flies up to the roof, the other isn’t far behind and usually lands within a few feet of the first or occasionally on a higher part of the roof.  I’ve even seen them tangle mid-air in a flurry of flapping wings and tangled feet that lasts as long as thirty seconds, rising up to fifteen feet or so in the air and falling almost to the ground before they disengage and land, again, within a few feet of each other.  That inability to differentiate between courtship and combat probably speaks to my inability to maintain long-term relationships as much as it does to my lack of bird knowledge fwiw.

Just sayin.

I’m gonna leave this one shortish, I’m currently on Amtrak headed back to North Carolina.  Since I’ll be relatively captive here on the train for another five hours or so, I’m going to try and use some of the time productively ish and recap my last few days.

Here goes nuthin’

Peace

 

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Now Is The Winter Of My Content

I know I said in an earlier post I wanted to avoid weather shaming, but Geez Louise, I was sitting out here in the carport this morning in shorts and a t-shirt being serenaded by neighborhood birds, so it’s kinda tough not to.  Weather shame, that is.  Besides, I needed fodder for a post so, you know, low hanging fruit, right?

Winter apparently ends in February here.  Buds are starting to appear on various plants already and while working at clearing away the last vestiges of fallen leaves yesterday (in jeans and a t-shirt) I was sweating my butt off.  Figuratively, that is.  I still have a butt, so…

I was actually back in Illinois last weekend, a whirlwind tour if you will, coming back in for Local 3234’s annual Recognition Dinner.  A wonderful evening celebrating the guys that retired last year, myself included.  I had a wonderful evening catching up with people I’ve spent a great deal of time with over the last 25 years or so.  Many laughs were shared, a tall tale or two were told, and a bunch of hugs were distributed throughout the room.  I even got a promise for some of Bob’s homemade, deep dish pizza when I come back in May for an extended visit.  At least I think it was a promise.  If it wasn’t, well Bob, you’re on the spot now, so I guess you’ve gotta come through.

Speaking of amazing food… among the high points (there were many) was a special delivery from one of my bonus kids, Courtney.  Yes, you guessed it, RVCB’S!  Amazing as always, I just popped the last one this morning.  And like the old Folger’s coffee ad, they were good to the last drop.  Since it took a Pony Express type delivery I especially liked the threatening tag on the package, something to the effect of “If your name isn’t Joel keep your hands off the goods” which made me literally lol when it was pointed out to me.

In true Illinois fashion the weather was not great.  Several inches of snow in the days leading up to the dinner and daily high temperatures in the teens for the duration of my brief visit.  The coldest I saw was 8º with a wind chill of -3º and I have to say, it was ok.

That last statement gave me pause, because if you know me IRL, you know how much I like to bitch about cold weather.  *Hint- the correct answer is “a lot” *  After giving the matter a little more thought, I came to the conclusion that it’s kind of like hitting your thumb with a hammer.  It hurts.  But if you only do it once, the pain passes relatively quickly.  I was only in town for a couple of days and so was only briefly exposed to Illinois winter.  Unlike my entire life prior to this winter, when my thumb was hit roughly 27 times a day for each and every one of the approximately six month-long Illinois winters I ever experienced.

Several hours were also spent with the kids and the littles on Sunday.  Almost everyone knew I was coming in, so we all figured it would be a good way to see each other and arrangements were made to meet up at the home of the Boy Child and PhojoMama™.  I say “almost” everyone because the Quiet Child decided to leave my arrival as a surprise for the Reigning Princess.  When they arrived, RP stood in the hallway for five or ten seconds staring at me before she broke into a full on sprint, launching herself at me for an enormous hug.  It was awesome.  Another awesome part of the weekend was having the Little Diamond spend probably more time on my lap Sunday than she had cumulatively for her entire life to that point.  It was just a really nice way to wrap up a great weekend.

Speaking of wrapping up (smooth, huh?) it’s about time for me to head over to the “Y” because, you know, fitness is my middle name.

Peace

PS- because, well, you know…  Happy birthday baby!  I hope you two are doing everything you love.  Much like every other day if it’s like we’ve always been told it’s like.  And I won’t mention any numbers because my Mom didn’t raise any dummies.

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Hey Siri…

So, since we all can agree that, to quote a very wise woman, live music is better live, I saw some the other night.  Live music that is.  A band by the name of Devil Makes Three (h/t to McG) was playing at venue about an hour from me called the Haw River Ballroom.  Great place btw, in the dye room of an old cotton mill, and somewhere I’ll definitely keep on  my watch list for future concerts.  The concert was pretty great as both acts put out excellent vibes.  The openers have, quite possibly, the longest name of any touring band – The Huntress and Holder of Hands – but they were really quite good.  One of the songs that stuck with me, actually more than anything the headliners did, was a cover of a wonderful Cranberries song that kind of slid out of my memory.  Just a really nice night.

Now the town this place is in is pretty small, about 1,600 people, and I’d never heard of Saxapahaw, NC before so I pulled it up when Mike first mentioned the band to me.  Looked pretty simple to get to, a couple state highways and only a few turns.  Piece of cake.  However.  Since I’m still pretty new out here, if I go anywhere other than Asheboro itself, I typically punch the address into a map app just to make sure I don’t miss a turn or something.  I’ve always been pretty good with directions but why mess around, right?  So I got in the car, typed in the destination and took a look before I headed east.  I looked at the map and noticed right away it was different from what I had pictured in my head.  Pretty much straight-line diagonal from my house to the venue and I thought from looking at the map that I would need to backtrack slightly to get there.

Now, if your history with Siri is anything like mine, you’d appreciate the sense of trepidation I felt right there.  I thought I’d already shared my Siri-induced misadventure on my way out here, but I just checked and apparently I haven’t.

Yet.

I got around Winston-Salem and had been going Siri-less for several hours since I had been out this way a few times and was fairly confident I could find my way to the hotel in Asheboro.  Until I caught a detour.  Since I was driving and didn’t want to pull over (an obvious sign of weakness *snark*) I said to myself “I have a smartphone, I can just talk to Siri and she’ll give me directions to my hotel.”

BAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I received directions to a hotel in Lexington, KY.  Several times.  I also received directions to a Waffle House in Burlington, NC.  More than once.  I received directions to so many different places and never less than sixty miles from where I wanted to be.  This, as you may imagine, displeased me.  Especially so close to the end of 14 hour drive from northern Illinois.  Fun fact.  Did you know that launching a profanity-laced tirade at Siri will cause her to, not unlike an actual human being, shut down?  She has a particular dislike for being called a word that rhymes with “brotherclucker” fwiw.  I think Apple missed the boat in not pointing out that attribute.  She’s so lifelike!

Needless to say, I finally pulled over and typed in the address to my hotel, arriving without further Siri-related incident about 45 minutes later.

So there was a brief hesitation as I left the house under Siri’s guidance.  I drove through, what I assume was a pretty bucolic part of the state.  And I’m not throwing stones with that, I mean after all I grew up in the Greater Burlington Metropolitan area (*more snark*) but since it was, you know, dark, I couldn’t really tell.  Also the two-lane, curvy, country roads were not conducive to the wandering driving eye I picked up from riding in a car with my Dad during my formative years.  All in know is, on the way home I saw, probably fewer than five cars, until I got back on the state highway about 30 miles later.

All in all it was an outstanding way to spend a Thursday evening.  The next concert on the books isn’t until April, I’m gonna have to work on something before that.

Time to search the interwebz!

Peace.

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Snowmageddon 2018

It started snowing about 7:00 this morning here, as I write this we’ve gotten about 2″ and I think we might get a couple more before it’s done.  Everything is shut down, or at the very least, delayed in opening.  The crawler on the news last night was chock full of closures, based on the likelihood of snowfall today.  I got an email from the YMCA last night advising they wouldn’t open until 1:00 this afternoon instead of at 5:00 AM as usual.  The street I live on isn’t terribly busy, but I’ve heard almost no one driving by, certainly less than a normal day.  I was just thinking, if I was in Illinois I’d probably grab the shovel and at least make the first run at removal before it piles up too deep.  Here, on the other hand, our forecast is for temperatures in the 40’s tomorrow and the 60’s by the weekend.  And I’m perfectly content to let Mother Nature take care of her own mess.  I’ll probably throw some salt on the front steps/porch so the mailman doesn’t slip, but that’s going to be the extent of my snow removal.

**UPDATE**  A follow-up email from the Y came in moments ago with the notice that they will be closed all day today and reopen at 8:00 tomorrow morning.  Insert wide-eyed emoji >here<

Now, this storm tracked across parts of the U.S. of A. that typically don’t get snow.  Including southern Arkansas which btw is home to my friend and internationally renowned podcaster, Seth.  I bring that up because I got a phone call from Seth Monday, the day before Snowmageddon 2018 was due to hit his little corner of the world.  He said that, while he wasn’t on shift, he had been in town and had gotten a phone call from his daughter to let him know they were out of milk and asking him to pick some up on his way home.

Pretty mundane request, right?

Not in the context of Snowmageddon 2018 (brief editorial note- I highly recommend reading “Snowmageddon 2018” in the deepest, most authoritarian voice you can conjure up in your head.  Try it, it’s awesome and if you can add in some “Breaking News” music as a backdrop in your head it’s even more amazing) which, apparently by default, includes undercurrents of chaos.  Seth told me when he got to the grocery store, not only was the parking lot so packed he had to park across the street and walk over, but the only milk left in the store was those little single-serve size bottles.

**UPDATE #2**  While not actively paying attention to it, I haven’t heard any traffic on my street whatsoever for roughly the entire time I’ve been working on this post.

I’m not sure how much snow is typical for this part of the country, obviously, I mean this is my first winter here, right?  But from watching the local weather on TV, I know the average high temperature for today is 49º so I’m thinking this may well be our first, and last, significant snowfall of the year.  I am absolutely ok with that fwiw.

You know, it suddenly occurred to me I may have buried the lede.  I joined the Y. Now, if you know me IRL, you know that “Fitness” is my middle name (not really).  The truth of the matter is, I haven’t done any walking to speak of since I’ve been down here.  That’s a result of being a dog-less household (pour one out to a great dog) but it also has brought me, in and of itself, no closer to adding a dog.  Just yet.  That time is coming, but, like me saying “y’all” it isn’t here now.  You people (yes, I said “you people”) will be among the first to know when I get serious about adding a dog.  But in the interim, I joined the Y last week and have done a decent job of getting over there and actually doing something.  Baby steps, no pun intended, but in the right direction nonetheless.

**UPDATE #3** I just went out to the front porch to throw the aforementioned salt for the mailman.  Our snowfall is 3″ or so.  I saw what I’m fairly certain was his footprints across the front yard.  Not close to my mailbox up on the porch.  I’m hoping it was because I had no mail today, otherwise that throws the whole “rain nor sleet nor gloom of night” thing right out the window.   I gave the man homemade brookies for Christmas for Chrissakes, certainly he could trudge ten feet to the right and up four stairs for me, right?  Hmmmm.

Ok, I think I’m good here for now.  I may go out and seek some snow mischief, I haven’t decided.  But one thing I won’t be doing is shoveling snow.

To quote Ren and Stimpy “Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy!”

Peace