CHANGES

They seem to be stretching up toward the sky, asking "whatever happened to all that warm sunshine?"

I guess it's time to . . .

You just have to pardon me.  I've been playing around with the macro feature on my little camera.  Now that I figured out how to turn it on, it works pretty good.

I just have to figure out where it's focussing.  Like not on the flower I thought I was photographing but on the bristly stuff behind it.  And it's easier if the subject is still rather than moving gently in the breeze.

Stay tuned.

AUTUMNAL COLORS

Yes, even in Arizona, autumn chill in the highlands is causing leaves to change colors.  I think, in my autumnal years, I'm starting to like the fall as the best season of the year.

Meantime, I'm keeping an eye on you.

NEW FROCKS (SOCKS)

I recently visited a local store and bought some new socks.

I decided it was time to add some color to my life and these "Funky Socks" fit the bill.  After all, if George H.W. Bush (age 90) can do it, then so can I.

That little bit of skin showing is what is called "titillation".

I'll not titillate you further by showing pictures of my new colorful boxers.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

It's F-R-I-D-A-Y!!!!!

And you know what that means, humor lovers.  To begin with, a look at the week we've all just survived once again.

Then there are those always thoughtful e-cards . . .

Even your local fire department can screw things up . . .

For those of you inclined toward religion . . .

Then there's some helpful advice . . .

I've gotta try that.  Really.

And finally, my friend . . . the kitty.

Thanks to all my contributors, including the ones who just learned they were in that category.  

Have a jolly weekend, folks!

MYSTERY SOLVED AND TBT

No one had the correct answer to identify yesterday's photo of a wino on a bench with his bottle still between his legs.

And it's no surprise.

For who would have thought that a passed-out rumpled figure slumped with his addiction protected could be . . . . .










 . . . the normally resolute conservative Washington activist Grover Norquist!

Yes it really is, though the picture is somewhat of a lie.  Here is the story.

And keep in mind that the story and the photo are two and a half years old.

I stumbled across it while searching the Google for a painting of a passed out wino and his bottle.  And being the good Democrat that I am, I couldn't resist it.

                                   * * * * * * * * *

That out of the way, here's today's photo for Throwback Thursday.

And no, that's not Norquist again.  This one is your heroic scribe on the beach in Southern California quite a few years ago.  Huntington Beach State Park, photographed by my tv cameraman of the day, Tim Dietz.  We were on our way to an interview, Tim was driving and after passing one beach after another, Tim suddenly exlaimed "All right, we've got to check this out" and pulled off the road.  I took the opportunity to collect a few small seashells.

WINO WEDNESDAY

Care to guess who that is?

The answer tomorrow.

BOXING, KICKING, KICK BOXING

You've probably asked yourself, "Self, do kangaroos actually box?"

Today, self can reply, "Yes.  They do."

Witness this bout filmed recently on an ordinary suburban Australian street.

More than one of my neighbors has told me about the wildlife they've seen running down the street in the early morning.

But never anything like this.

A NEW MONDAY

Good Monday morning to you.  I hope your week is spectacular.

BLACKWELL AND THE BEDSPREAD

My wife and her daughter have, for many, many years, had a habit of trading "stuff" back and forth.  Our most recent acquisition was a bedspread that the BRD had grown tired of.  So it came to our house yesterday and went on my bed, which had been without one for awhile.

But the question is: just whose bedspread is this.  Another member of our family seems to have staked a claim.

It's something new in the house plus it's soft and comfortable.  So Blackwell has been parked there today.  

Not only that.  

I had to kick him off the bed four times last night.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

I don't think this Friday's group is hysterically funny, like normal. But then, what's normal?

Ah, true love.

Actually I thought a group of cats was called a clowder.  But that makes no sense at all.

Oh, well, let's close with a fine message from The Angry Cat.

Have a great weekend, folks, and keep on giggling.

THROWBACK THURSDAY

Today's Throwback Thursday isn't really about me.  Have patience, you'll see.

Three young buddies enjoying my dog, Honey, outside the home I grew up in, Stanley, North Dakota.  Left to right, Jim Burbidge, Me, Jerome Larson.  I don't know the year or their ages.

A little later.  Me and Jim (now wearing glasses) and a stringer of perch at Lake Carlyle in Saskatchewan, Canada.

This one I'm sure of.  April 24, 1951.  My 11th birthday.  My pal, Jim, waits to help me devour the cake.

Many years later, just a few years ago.  Me and Jim at a reunion of former residents of Stanley held annually in Mesa, Arizona.  Wow, the beards are both white!

And finally, just a few days ago, Jim celebrating his 75th birthday. In Portugal!  Way to go, Jimbo, and once again . . Happy Birthday.

I think we've both had pretty good runs.

HISTORY

A little bit of baseball . . .

On this day in 1961, Roger Maris of Fargo, North Dakota, hit his 61st home run of the year for the New York Yankees.  He became the first player to break the record of 60 round-trippers set by the great Babe Ruth in 1927, 34 years before.

Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa and Barry Bonds all later hit more than 61 in a season but their performances were tainted by rumors of steroid use.  And they were all in the National League.  Maris' record of 61 home runs still stands as the American League record 53 years later.

In tribute to a fellow North Dakotan, here's a great baseball tune.

LIFE IS A STRUGGLE

If one pays too much attention to the daily news, cycled and recycled endlessly on television, newspapers and the Internets, it can become almost a struggle to get out of bed some days.  So I urge you to take a break or take it in small doses.  Do something else with your time. Create something perhaps.  Or just appreciate something of beauty.

Even in the most desolate of places, we can find Mother Nature coping and manifesting pretty objects.  We can too.

GOLDEN FIELDS

After our recent rains, in the area to our east that my poetic wife refers to as "The Savannah", the growth had turned a dark Irish green.

In more recent days, the color had changed to this rich golden hue.

It reminded us both of the day in 1985 when we took the TGV high speed train from Nice to Paris and went through the wild mustard fields around Dijon.

These golden fields, I fear, are just weeds.

RAINY DAYS AND BEETLES

Here's what the street in front of my house looked like yesterday afternoon after a tad of rain.

While we were in a nice dry house watching the rain, there were other creatures caught outside in the downpour.  One of them was a fat black beetle, slowed down by his drenching but still keepin' on.

Today the sun is back out.  And why not?  It is Sun-day.

KING BLACKWELL

A somewhat indelicate story.

Our black cat, Blackwell, coughed his cookies twice on the bedspread on my bed this summer.  I cleaned up the first mess but the second time was too much and the cover went into the washing machine, then the dryer, then was folded up and placed on an unused corner of the dining room table prior to being packaged up and put in storage for awhile.

A few minutes later I walked into the room and here's what I saw.

I don't know why cats do those types of things.  It must be something about claiming its territory.  Or a somewhat familiar smell.  Or, most likely, just seeing something unfamiliar and having to test it out.

At any rate, when I showed SWMBO this picture she shooed him down to the floor.  And he ambled away.  Sometime I'll have to shoot a video of his amble. When he's not in any hurry he walks just like John Wayne.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

Ah, we're back once again with some chuckles, guffaws and horse laughs for your weekend.  

My next door neighbor's yard crew with their VERY noisy leaf blower cranked it up at 7 o'clock this morning.  Grrrr.  I had to find some way to keep my (and SWMBO's) temper under control.  
So . . . . . . . 

I feel better now.

And to put a tail on this collection, a different kind of cat tale this morning.

Have a totally splendid weekend, folks, and keep smilin'.

THROWBACK THURSDAY

Days of wine and madras.  One of my proteges, Bob Barclay, and I. Note the sunglasses atop heads.  Note, also, that it is night outside. Two wild and crazy guys.

COOLING OFF

High (for him) atop a wall in my back yard, a lizard rests in the shade, taking a bit of relief from the sun.

Here's a closer look.

As I watch him, he glares back.  The question becomes . . who's watching who?

I wonder, if lizards think . . what does he think of this huge human approaching him?

HOUSE PROUD

This lovely old cottage is near Prescott's Victorian homes area and directly across the street from the Public Library and that cat.  I wouldn't mind living here.