Friday, May 10, 2024

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 OMG!

Is it really Friday already?

This week has just shot by.

(sorry about that. if you've been reading.)

Anyway, let's all get ready for a Really Big Weekend.

Yup, it's Mothers' Day on Sunday!

But more important to me, it's another birthday for SWMBO!

Yes, Judith is . . . . once again . . . . about to be . . . . KISSABLE!

As my friend, Tom in California, said the other day "Judy's journalistic chops are great!"

But he was talking about her skill as a news reporter and I cannot more agree with him.

She's a wonder, she is, and I just hope she appreciates the crowd of friends and relatives I have coming for her Big Day!

( . . . oh, Judy, I'm just kidding . . . )

But enough of this incessant chatter.

Let's get to the business of the day: LAUGHTER!

Let me hear you, Gentle Readers.






















Now if you have to have a young(er) person explain that last one to you, don't feel bad.

I did.

And just a hint . . . it's a groaner.

As is this one . . . again.




So with that sad bit of humor, we shall end this week's thorny endeavor.

Let's all have a great weekend and try to struggle up come Monday Morning.

But whatever, always remember to KEEP LAUGHING!!!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .


Thursday, May 9, 2024

SERENITY

 


Thanks to all who offered their concern and good wishes after yesterday's post.

Last night was calm and we just wanted you to know that all is quiet this morning here "in the hood/on the Western Front".

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

GROWTH PROBLEMS

 Awhile back, on the morning the Legado apartment project was torched and burned to the ground, I told you about a woman I met who was gazing at the damage as was I.

She said hotly that she didn't feel sorry for the developers because the 5-story project was "too big for our small town."

I gently responded that it wasn't a small town anymore.

We had another reminder of that last night, much closer to us.

After reading an email Judy had sent I told her I thought it would be right for my blog and she consented.

So here it is.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Last evening we had both retired to our rooms and were reading in bed.  Suddenly there were four or five very loud bangs outside the house.  I wondered if our neighbors were setting off fireworks.  Bruce thought someone was banging on our front door.

In less than five minutes the neighborhood was lit up by cop cars with all lights flashing.  Across the street all the residents of one side of a duplex were outside in the yard.  Soon there were too many cops to count milling around and flashing their very bright flashlights in every direction.

Then out came traffic cones draped with crime scene yellow tape . . . IN OUR DRIVEWAY!  The yellow tape was wrapped around the tree in our front yard in addition to the traffic cones.  A floodlight from one of the police vehicles was aimed at our home.

Bruce got dressed and went out front to try and discover something from the cops about what was going on.  No info there at first.

Finally it was determined that there had been a drive-by shooting, with the duplex residents straight across from us as targets. No one was hit.  The little girl who lives there was pacing and crying.  Now and then someone would embrace her.  She grabbed her little bicycle and started to ride it but was told to put it away.

The police found shell casings in our driveway.  They also found tire tracks and a female detective asked if they were from our car or not.  When Bruce didn't know because our car does leave tracks she asked to photograph the tires.  He opened the garage door and she took her pictures.

She also told him they'd be there for an hour or two and apologized for the upset.

We finally got so tired of the whole experience that we decided to go back to bed at about 10:45.

This morning all is clear.

Welcome to the neighborhood.

------by Judith Taylor

Tuesday, May 7, 2024

FUN WITH DADS

 There is a certain kind of humor that I have been accused of having.

It's the kind of humor that people disparage as "Dad Jokes".

Usually they are puns.

Like . . .


or . . .


or . . .


or . . .


Then there are those guys who started putting their jokes up on signboards outside their businesses.


And, of course we can't leave out whoever began all of those Star Trek memes.


Some times the so-called Dad Humor is just silly.

Like . . .


Which brings me to an example of where I may have found my particular brand of humor.

From a song my Dad used to sing in the car at the top of his voice, embarrassing my mother and making my brother and I laugh.

I still sing it but I won't do that here.  I'll just give you the lyrics, as I remember them.


"Emmalina and I went fishing one day, 

on the bank of Chesapeake Bay.

Emmalina caught a codfish and I caught a bass, 

Emmalina fell in, clear up to her asssssssssssssk

me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.

Emmalina fell in, clear up to her eyes!"

Thank yuh, thank yuh, thank you ver' much. 

 

Sunday, May 5, 2024

ARSON RESULT

 You may have read here about the tragic fire that engulfed the huge apartment, shopping and dining complex named Legado in the heart of Prescott Valley, Arizona.

I wrote about it here and here.

Investigators have long since ruled it an arson, committed by the same mysterious person who also started fires at the local high school.

He is unknown as yet but a reward for his capture and conviction has soared to 100 thousand dollars.

The loss to the builders of this project is put at 60 million dollars.

Here are some photos of the aftermath that I took today.












All of what you see will be demolished.

The owners of the property hope to rebuild.

As I said, the criminal who caused this damage is unknown.

As yet.

Saturday, May 4, 2024

UNE ARTISTE

Do you see why I call her the Beautiful Artistic Daughter?



When she came by for a visit recently, she had put her hair up and wrapped it in what I called "a head rag".

I'm sure it has some fancier term.

But when I looked up and saw her I said, "Wow! You look like an artiste!"

She responded, "I am!" 

As the three of us were sitting together, her mother said, "I told her I don't think she looks a day over 50."

I thought even younger than that.

But truth be told, she recently celebrated a landmark birthday 20 years beyond that half-century mark.

I find it hard to believe.



But when I realize that I've known her for 54 years . . .

I still think she's more beautiful now than she was way back then.

Friday, May 3, 2024

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 Okay, it's time to stop protesting, to put all sad things behind.

It's time for the pre-Saturday sappiness.

So let's not solicit a second more of your time.

Let's get on with it!
























That's all I've got, Gentle Readers and Mirthful Mavens.

No, please take the rest of it for yourselves and attempt to have an artfully fine weekend.

But ALWAYS . . . ALWAYS REMEMBER TO KEEP LAUGHING!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

( . . . uh, huh, I suspected as much . . . )

Thursday, May 2, 2024

A YARD SALE

 The little girl who lives across the street is always in motion.  She bursts out the door and jumps on her tiny bicycle or a scooter and races around the driveway and sometimes even into the street.  We live on a rather remote street so that doesn't consist of too much danger.  Just enough.

Her energy is enviable.  But she is only seven or eight years old so that is easy to understand.

I'm guessing that she must have recently gone to a yard sale with someone.  She must have decided that was a great way to make some money.

This afternoon she started hauling items out into the front yard of her home.  Many articles colored pink.  Her mother helped her bring larger items out of a very crowded garage.

The little girl carried item after item out.  She arranged them and re-arranged them repeatedly.  Then she sat down in a tiny chair and waited for the customers to flock in.  

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then she walked out and looked up and down the street.  When a car was heard approaching, she would look down the street and start waving her arms in a beckoning motion as the car whizzed past.

This went on for about an hour and a half.  No one stopped.  She disappeared into the house.

Now, as the sun is setting, the garage door is back up and the items are slowly being returned inside.




 - - - by Judith Taylor


Wednesday, May 1, 2024

MAY DAY

Now don't tell me about the first day of May being celebrated as a Workers' Day, or a really big deal for international Communists.

And don't start with it being the first day of Asian Pacific American Heritage month or that it's celebrated as Lei Day in Hawaii.

Or that it's National Learn to Ride a Bike Day or World Carnivorous Plant Day.

I might lean a bit in the direction of National Chocolate Parfait Day.

When I was a tot, the first of May was celebrated by hanging May Baskets on people's doorknobs and running away.

The lucky recipient would open the door to find no one there but a basket containing these types of candies.




I've outgrown those.

No I go back, way back, to the ancient pagans who knew how to mark this period between Spring and Summer.

They danced around a May-Pole.




Modern Day Pagans paint themselves green and indulge in drinking and dining and perhaps some other whims of mind.



I'm all in on that.

However and whatever you celebrate, Happy May Day!

Tuesday, April 30, 2024

WARMING UP

 Those of you who have had to put up with me bitching about commenting on our cool weather this Spring can now say it: nah-nah-nah-NAH-nah-nah.

For on this April 30th here in lovely Arizona, the mercury has climbed to near 80 degrees in mid-afternoon.

That's almost 27 degrees Celsius in Canada and Europe and Australia and, well, most of the rest of the enlightened world.

Now I'm not complainin'.

In fact I fired up the oven in the Taylor Family Kitchen this morning to replenish Judy's supply of English Muffin Bread.


Honest to gawd, they really aren't that ugly.

They're purtier than that, I swear.


I even tipped one loaf over on it's side to try to get an artsy-fartsy shot.


Well, there's not much else I can do.

Like me, they don't photograph well.

But Judy says they make great toast for her breakfast so there.

I remember many years ago when I was working for a television station in Phoenix, where it gets much hotter than here.

I got the bright idea one day to see if the old saying "It's so hot you could fry an egg on the sidewalk" was actually true.

Maybe if we'd left it longer it might have fried.

Or burned, more likely.

But the idea was a failure as the egg just turned into a slimy mess on the sidewalk.

It did work (sort of) though when we tried one on the hood of my photographer's car.

I don't think our culinary efforts got picked up by either Gourmet or Bon Appetit magazines though.

I'm still waiting to hear from the Food Channel.

Monday, April 29, 2024

A GOOD EVENING

 


Sorry about the roof-tops but I wanted to get as much of the clouds as I could.

It probably would have been a better picture if I'd have noticed it earlier.

So it goes.

Sunday, April 28, 2024

CAKE! er, PIE! er, MUFFINS! (whatever)

 My extremely talented wife, Judith (Judy) Taylor aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, is a good teller of tales.

Now by that I do NOT mean to imply that she's a liar.

She's just a good writer.

But she's modest to a fault.

She was a bit gobsmacked by all the kind comments on her story yesterday about putting her mother in a retirement center.

I kept praising her as comment after comment came in and she scoffed, "They're just trying to kiss up to you."

I reminded her that she's the only one of us who has written a novel.

It's unpublished but still!

Then she got a telephone call from a very dear friend in Seattle, who told her how much she appreciated her essay.

They talked about my blog and how about every three weeks I say, "I don't know, I think I'll end it, I don't have anything more to say."

Our friend said, "No, no, just tell him how much I enjoy reading it."

Judy said that she had told me I should stop blogging about food so much.

Our friend responded that anyone who cooks the kind of food we do should be proud of it and keep blogging about it.

So . . . . the other day SWMBO tried a recipe she found in a drawer for Banana Pecan Muffins.

The only problem was it made way more batter than the dozen muffins the recipe called for.

And we didn't have another muffin tin.

So she put the extra batter in a pie plate and baked it that way.

Some cream cheese frosting topped it off and here it is.


The photographer (NOT Judy) didn't do a very good job.

But the cake or pie or whatever is delicious!

And the blog lives on.

(Thanks, Seattle Lori, for the stimulus.)

Saturday, April 27, 2024

A SUITABLE DUNGEON

 Once again today, I turn the blog over to my wife, Judy for her tale of A Suitable Dungeon.

==============================================

Many years ago I found myself in the terrible position of deciding my mother's future.  She had had a couple of "minor" strokes and my father had recently passed away.

It wasn't safe any longer for her to live alone in their retirement house in Florida.  She left stove burners on and forgot them.  She stumbled frequently and almost fell.

I was summoned from across the country to "come and help me deal with Mother".  My sister had moved near our parents when they retired to Florida.  But she was still working and "the mother situation" had become critical.  It was obvious that we had to deal with the problem quickly and I was required to be there.

We started looking at potential "retirement centers" . . really, nursing homes.  Upon returning to her house the first day we found Mother sitting on the edge of her bed.  She looked up and gave us an evil look and said, "Well, did you find a suitable dungeon for me today?"

We were spent from the mental and physical effort of the day.  Both of us plopped on the bed beside our mother and one of us said, "No, not today, Mother," and we laughed rather hysterically.  Mother looked at both of us and couldn't see the humor in the situation.

The next day we heard of a brand new retirement center that was opening in three weeks.  We took the tour and instantly decided it was perfect.

Mother had been a gardener and bird watcher all her life.  We told her of the beautiful gardens all around the place.  She inquired as to whether she could take her bird bath with her and put it in one of the gardens.  We said we would see if that could happen.

We scheduled a visit for the three of us to do a walk-through of a possible apartment for Mother.  It was on the third floor.  She liked the sparkling newness of it all and that she could take her own furniture and personal things.  We walked out on her private balcony and looked around.  One of us mentioned that the bird bath would like nice down below in the garden.

Mother looked around for a minute and said, "That bird bath would be so far away I wouldn't know if they were drinking or shitting!  Then she stomped away.  My sister and I looked at each other and knew we had work to do.

Over the next few days we lobbied for the place by pointing out the amenities.  "You can have your own little refrigerator and microwave and coffee maker.  You won't have to cook major meals.  They will be served to you in the dining room."

"I won't know any of those people," she snarled.

"But you can get to know them."

"Why should I?  None of my friends will know where I have gone.  Nobody will ever visit me."

She had really been a loner, almost anti-social and suddenly she worried that the few friends she had would never visit her.  She worried that no one would speak to her at the dinner table.  It was rather ridiculous that one of the best-read, most informed persons in the area was worried that there would be nothing in common with these people.

But slowly she started to look semi-kindly on the new place.  It was very different from anything she'd ever known.  The move proceeded.

There was a terrible wrangle over her learning to use an electric coffee maker rather than perking her coffee on the stove.  "I know good coffee and I know bad coffee and this stuff is bad," she growled.

One morning before the move, as we sipped our "bad coffee" in the living room of the home she had known, a movement outside the picture window attracted my attention.  A giant Blue Heron was leaning down to drink from the bird bath in the front yard.  He was so casual about it.  My heart was pounding as I whispered to my mother, "Look, oh look at that!"

She said, "Oh yes, he stops by a few morning a week for a drink."

A short time later the move took place.  Mother adjusted quickly and was quite satisfied with her new home for the rest of her time.

 - - - - - -

My daughter and I have lunch together often on Fridays.  A while back she handed me a brochure for a new retirement center in town that was holding an open house for the public in a week or two.  She asked if I'd be interested in going and looking it over.  I said I'd like that.

When I came home and handed the brochure to my husband, he asked, "Has she found a suitable dungeon for us?"


 ----- by Judith Taylor