Nic and the ultimate Christmas gift

There are three things about me you should know:

Number one: I have the sense of humor of an 11-year-old boy. I know this because I found a gif that I thought was hilarious. It was raccoons chasing a kid. My husband said he didn’t see what was so funny. I was literally crying. I sent it to my 11-year-old grandson who sent back a laughing /crying emoji.

Number two: One of my favorite things to do is to peruse antique/vintage/junk stores or barns or whatever. My grandson and I share this also. He looks for bobbleheads, finding the best deal on one that he doesn’t have, and he has a lot. He focuses on baseball bobbleheads (Go Guardians!!) and I look for Liddle Kiddles, Kiddles Kologne specifically. If you are my age and female you probably had a Liddle Kiddle or two. I found Lily of the Valley, then Apple Blossom, and here they are:

Number three: my dad was a quirky gift giver. When he passed, we started a family tradition of giving gifts like he did (one gift, we draw numbers to pick). The big gift was the bobber cooler and since we all have one now, everyone tries to avoid the large box. Except for the year it was full of beer. Then everyone wanted it. Last year I got a hot dog that wiggles and says, “I’m on a roll!”

Last October when my husband and I went to Maine, we were driving along toward Bar Harbor and I saw something that made me scream like Donald Sutherland in “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”, grab the wheel and swerve into the parking lot. OK, I didn’t grab the wheel but I did express my desire for a short visit. Inside was my heart’s desire, a large selection of vintage stores (not quite junk) with every possibility of Liddle Kiddles. I was a kid in a candy store. Plus it wasn’t Cleveland junk, it was MAINE junk. That made it even better!

My husband, resigning himself to a lengthy period of time perusing the fine vintage items, looked at the straight razors. I asked about a Kiddle but no luck. Then my husband found something that made me realize why I married him; it was a pillow, but not just any pillow.

A Nicholas Cage in a banana pillow! Doesn’t that just cry, “Family Christmas Gift”? It was only $32, and I was sold. But then I remembered that although I have the sense of humor of an 11-year-old, the rest of my family doesn’t. Yes, they would appreciate it, except for the then two-year-old grand niece’s parents, but would they love it? Would they give it a place of honor on their couch? I decided not to get it. With much regret, it stayed at the shop.

Months later, I got up to make my morning coffee and pushed the foot lever to open the garbage. There he was, in all his glory!

Nicholas Cage and his banana were on the lid of my garbage! My loving husband overcame whatever jealousy he had and got me a Nicholas Cage and Banana sticker.

 We do have a bit of a backstory with Mr. Cage. When we went to New Orleans the cemetery guide was a bit negative about his pyramid shaped tombstone in an otherwise old, heritage-filled cemetery.

Then later, we took a carriage ride and the guide was also disparaging. Apparently Nic is not universally beloved. I don’t care! I love him and his banana! You can have one too, just google it. I read it was based on a 2011 film…where has this been and how did I miss it? Well, now I know, and so do you.

Chester saw how much I loved it and attempted to do the banana pic also. Here is his attempt. I do appreciate the effort.

From the parks and our neighborhood, here are a few pics of beautiful Cleveland. The skellies are for Midwest Mark’s blog Mark My Words. Have a good weekend!

Yes, this is a thing here!

Birds and a Buzzard

Back in the late 1970s to the mid-1980s, there was a radio station here in Cleveland with a mascot of the Buzzard. They advertised, “Home of the Buzzard.”

The station, WMMS 100.7, is still here, but they don’t use the buzzard much anymore. I’m not as much of a fan of the music or talk but they do cover sports so it’s OK. It was a top-notch radio station in the day, bringing live acts to our area and being rated #1 radio station for years.

In Hinckley, Ohio, not far from here, there is a Buzzard Day festival when the buzzards are supposed to return to Ohio after wintering in warmer climates. It is held on the first Sunday on or after March 15^th, which is the official Buzzard Day. At least that’s what the website says, but this year it was March 24, which is more than the first Sunday, right? People still gather on March 15th to be a buzzard spotter too, so what to choose? The whole thing gives me a headache. Anyway, the festival day consists of a pancake and sausage breakfast and other activities befitting the tradition of the buzzard so I choose that one.

My cousin and I went to the beach in this beautiful September/October weather and while she enjoys the beach more, I enjoy the birds. It works well. We were lucky to see what I believe is a buzzard up close and personal. It was eating a fish which I did not take a picture of.

There is some question if buzzards are the same as turkey vultures. They are not. Apparently, the buzzard has a more hooked beak and talons and hunts prey. The vulture eats roadkill and can vomit at will.  I’m not sure what this is but here in Cleveland-speak the two are interchangeable. Just about everything is called a buzzard.  I blame WMMS and Hinckley. I mean how do you know if a buzzard or a vulture came back to Hinckley when there’s probably a blizzard, not a buzzard clouding your vision? Around here in March it’s 50/50.

We also saw an Osprey. I know that because I sent the picture to my bird-wise sister. It had no interest in the dead fish but let us get fairly close. What a beauty!

Of course we saw seagulls.

Seagulls are feisty and challenged the buzzards (yes there were several) to the fish. They didn’t even really want the fish; they just didn’t want anyone else to have it. One especially had an attitude, chasing all the others away, even seagull buddies, if they got close.

I mean sheesh, they weren’t doing anything wrong, just wanted to be friends and sing Kum-ba-yah (I’m interpreting here). Who knows what goes on in those little brains.

This one was obviously friendly and had been the recipient of a French fry or two, since it had the same look the blue jays have when I don’t throw out peanuts early enough. It was either friendly or demanding depending on your interpretation. Seagulls have personalities.

Then there are the Canadian Geese. We have a lot of geese. Right now, they are flying overhead, calling to each other, heading south. It’s a bittersweet symbol of the end of summer, then spirit-lifting when they come back it’s the end of winter. That is the image they would like to portray to those who don’t have many of them as residents. This is the reality:

every time i tried to get out of my car it came at me, lol

We just sit and stew while they take their time crossing streets, parking lots, driveways, and cover baseball fields with goose poop. Whole four lane streets regularly come to a complete stop. They rule!

So why all this about birds? I don’t know.  I just have been walking in parks a lot with Chester and have been getting into identifying them with the Cornell app. It just amazes me that something so little (except for the geese and buzzards and osprey) can survive.  I admire them. They remind me of the “consider the lilies of the field” Bible verse, aka don’t worry, be happy. I lean on those words often. Chester has enjoyed the walks but couldn’t care less about the birds.

The color around us is amazing right now, although Chester couldn’t care less about that either. He does care about his pup cup!

I’m late to feed the blue jay family and they will start squawking soon. Here is just a happy pic to wish you a wonderful, gentle, bird filled week.

The Summer that Wasn’t

Summer is over. What the heck?! It seems like yesterday that we were watching the grandkids play little league baseball. Our kids played little league baseball and softball. It seems like yesterday. One observation: when our daughter played softball the girls had it going on in the cheer department. They had cheers for every situation and were enthusiastic and the cheers elaborate. The boys not so much. One team our grandson played against did a cheer that went literally like this: “bee boppity boo you hit the ball”. Sadly it worked and the kid hit the ball. Ah well, next year.

My summer has been the year of the fundraiser. My friend called it a “Funraiser.” It wasn’t. my job was to obtain donation baskets for the raffle. Now nobody likes asking for money. But I started a handbell choir called Decibells and we want to buy our own bells instead of borrowing. I want bells more than I hated asking for donations, so I hustled everyone. I got donations from the Cleveland Cavs, the Cleveland Monsters, the Great Lakes Science Center, and a bunch more. I got an email from the Browns saying they were sending me a “Browns Pack” the day before the event. It didn’t come in time so we raffled a “Mystery Basket” lest we miss a single dollar! The event, “Hot Dogs and Handbells” was all set. Alas Mother Nature did not ask us when she unleashed a small storm/tornado two days prior. The power was out at the venue but nobody puts handbell ringers in the corner and the show must go on, etc, etc, so we had it anyway. They had a generator, so it was fine. Just no air conditioning. We didn’t get as many people as we expected, since the power was out all over, but we made over $1000.

People starting to arrive..

I realized that asking for donations wasn’t that bad, and we actually did have fun even though it was really hard work. That took up a lot of my summer between thinking, asking for money, and worrying and thinking and worrying more, all while listening to Bee boppity boo you hit the ball. And, we’ll probably do it again next year. Bells are expensive!!

We got this for Chester at the Made in Ohio Festival at Hale Farm and Village.

At least I didn’t have the problem my sister had this summer. She has been at war with raccoons who have confused her lovely backyard with a toilet. She is a very kind person, a naturalist extraordinaire, so she went into combat armed with windchimes. It was supposed to annoy them. They may have been annoyed when they pooped but it didn’t stop them. She tried pepper spray in the area they used. They pooped on it. She took a Master Blaster filled with Bonner’s peppermint soap to spray the area. I guess they like peppermint. You know how I said I wanted bells more than I hated fundraising? I guess they liked to poop in her yard more than they hated peppermint. What was the outcome? The Battle Royale continues…..

Chester has had his usual good time, chasing the huge and getting huger (uh oh) groundhog under the shed. He did it today again. When I go out there, I try to grab him, and he runs the other way. I go that way, and he runs around the shed. My husband said he was going to record it and set it to the “Benny Hill” music and put it online. I will kill him. The only thing that works is double teaming him. Which we did. He gets this crazed look in his eye and won’t “leave it.” I picture the animal under the shed munching on something and taunting him. Other than his shed excursions he has had walks and wandering in the river.

I’m going to try to catch up with summer, it went too fast. It’s not completely over, I’m going to the beach with my cousin Monday.  It was about 83 degrees today. Maybe I can prolong the beautiful fall and hope for a warm winter. It’ll be here soon!  

Happy 6th Gotcha Day, Chester!

Six years ago today we drove to the Cleveland City Kennel and adopted a dog. We had looked at the online pictures, overwhelming in a way because we couldn’t take them all We looked for dogs that were not puppies, since we are hardly puppies ourselves. We both looked, and a few popped out. This was Chester’s bio: “Roosevelt” at the time.

When Roosevelt came out, he acknowledged us then went on a rambling, sniffing mission and peed on the plastic play house thing in the yard. What really got us was his smile. We signed the paperwork and learned that he was microchipped but his previous owner didn’t want him back. So six years ago, on August 16^th, we welcomed our new friend. John opened the hatchback and he jumped right in the car without hesitation.

Let’s go home!

The vet said on his form, “a very nice gentleman” and he is. He chases squirrels, bunnies, groundhogs, racoons, whatever moves, but he doesn’t put as much effort into squirrels as when he was younger. He’ll still chase something under the shed then run around digging at it and barking.

It’s pretty annoying so both of us go out and grab him. It has to be both because he sees it as a game. When I get close he takes off around the shed. I follow and he does it again. I start steaming and he thinks he’s funny.

He discovered Lake Erie and rivers within the last few years. He plunges right in until his belly is wet then jumps in the car with his wet feet. He also discovered pup cups; whipped cream in a small cup.

he comes into the front seat and flirts with the lady at Biggby Coffee. She sometimes gives him two Milk Bones on the pup cup.

Chester owns his backyard. In the evening he’s happy to lay outside and survey his domain.

I’m so glad we could give him a fenced in yard to run and get muddy in.

He sleeps more now and doesn’t walk as far.

The grandkids used to be scared of him, but he won them over. Now it’s a mutual love affair, and when they aren’t over, he likes to sleep on their beds.

He has always been food motivated. It’s hard to resist that face. His favorites are cheese sticks, the bacon dog treats, and still the old classic, Milk Bones.

His muzzle is getting a little grey but he still has energy to beg!

Chester was 5 years old when we got him, so he is 11 now. I hope he has many more years in him. Happy Gotcha Day little buddy! Aren’t you glad you jumped in that car without looking back? We are!

We love you Chester!!

Broken rule and a time capsule

I broke one of my own rules today. I have two mom rules that I follow religiously.

Rule #1:

NEVER eat any of the samples at the fairs, festivals, or outside events that have been sitting around.

My bad self: “But what about inside the big Merchant building at the fair?”

NO

“What if they have little tent things over them?”

Do you think flies cannot figure out how to get inside and chow down? NO. As my cousin says, your future self will thank you for it.

Rule #2: Always use the key fob to lock your car.

Guess which one I broke today? Well I’m not sick but when I went to the car in the rain after dropping off grandson at ice skating camp, my keys were sitting right there in the cup holder. Unfortunately the doors were locked. Sheesh. Luckily it was not a tragedy since my husband was picking up said grandson so he just came early.

Cornhole on ice

The only downside was he had to listen to more of what we called disco music, but I think there’s probably a newer term for the same thing. Yesterday they started playing a remix of a Queen song. You would think that was the worst Queen song version I heard in the past week but you would be wrong.

Last weekend we took the grandkids to Garrettsville, Ohio to see them open a 100-year-old time capsule. We were all pretty interested in what would be in it. We arrived at around 10am and the capsule was opened at noon but they had interpreters and reenactors there dressed up and giving history of Garrettsville. Garrettsville is a nice little town and they did a good job with it. But because I am the snarky turd I am, I have to tell you the only bang my head on the sidewalk moment.

They had a piano player who (I thought) was going to play music from the 1920s. I was mistaken. I heard some Journey and when it was done I clapped politely. I was sitting on the curb with the grandkids eating potato chips. Not the worst way to spend a day. Then the pianist gave Bohemian Rhapsody a go.  He even attempted the head shaking part, only not in a good way. For a minute I held a frozen smile but if you know the song, it’s a little Looong. He played it allllll. This is now going to be rule #3:

If you play the piano, Bohemian Rhapsody is totally and definitely off limits. Totally. Definitely. Forever. Off limits.

the capsule is on the left lower side of the rock

The actual time capsule opening took place after 5 or 6 speeches and one song. At one point some guy in the crowd yelled “Open it up.” People clapped. But it was all worth it to hear the song “Garrettsville.” If you know (and who doesn’t) the song “America the Beautiful” then you know the melody. The words went something like, “Garrettsville, Oh Garrettsville, we something something something.” We couldn’t catch it all. It was written back 100 years ago and put in the time capsule. Apparently the schoolkids sang it back at the capsule burying extravaganza. I had a vision of the city leaders approaching the beleaguered teacher and enthusiastically encouraging (demanding) that she write a song about Garrettsville. She probably thought, “What am I supposed to do now, I can’t write a song and teach these little rotters music in two days” (I’m making this all up, they may have given her three days, who knows.)

Then the light bulb goes on in poor teacher’s head! “Oh, they know “America! I’ll just change the words and it’ll be fine. Not my best work but nobody will remember it anyway!”

100 years later…..”Garrettsville, Oh Garrettsville…”

Anyway, it was a very nice event, and mostly what was in the capsule was newspapers, magazines, and a journal. They are going to display the items; I’d like to go see them. They are also going to bury another capsule to be opened in 80 years. (why 80 instead of 100? I don’t know.) I don’t think I’ll be alive but the grandkids may be. I hope so! Garrettsville is a nice town and we had a fun day.

Back when I was in Titanic the Musical, I began reading, learning, and researching Titanic. Loading the dishwasher isn’t the most challenging household chore, and I especially hate the silverware. Sticking them into the little holes is just aggravating; some fall, and it’s boring.

replica of the titanic

I decided that the silverware container is the Titanic. The part toward the outside door (right) is first class, the middle is second, and the part farther in the dishwasher is third class. I load the passengers in no particular order, but if there is a big spoon, it’s the captain and he gets to go in front. There always has to be a knife in the back since it’s more of a working area and they need a knife to work. If one falls down in the dishwasher or onto the floor, it drowns. The body goes back into the sink. Of course unloading is always first-class first. Sometimes one or two of the second-class get reassigned into a first-class spot. They are always happy about that. Then when I’m done loading they all go into the dishwasher and the ship sinks.

As for Chester, he went to the vet for his annual checkup and he is fine but overweight. He weighs 84 pounds. He and I both have to slim down a bit. We’re trying to not give him as many treats. He’s been good though, even in the heat. He is 11 and ½ years old now and still chases bunnies like a youngster.

I don’t have many pics of him because we have been taking shorter walks due to the heat. Cleveland hasn’t been terrible but I have to admit the ice arena felt really good! Have a good week😊

Animal Month

May was the month of fending off animals. We have had some weird happenings, and I believe they are plotting something.

The birds are chirping non-stop. I tune it out for the most part, although thanks to the Cornell bird identifier I now know I am tuning out red-eyed Vireos, Robins and House Finches. Two weeks ago they grabbed my attention. I was doing dishes or something equally important and thought provoking when I heard a very angry bird. I looked up and didn’t see anything. But wow, what a ruckus! I went to the back door and saw this.

It sat for awhile then flew off. I met it again while walking Chester. It was up on a lightpost just looking around. I saw it fly away, and two smaller black birds chased it. That shows you what attitude can do. Chester didn’t even notice it. He was busy.

Another evening, he asked to be let out back. He was a little more excited than usual. We looked out and there was a very hefty racoon looking in. It decided that Chester was intimidating and left the deck.  We did not let Chester out.

But I wouldn’t do anything to it!

Chester is intimidating but the squirrels typically ignore him. They get bolder and bolder. He tries to catch them but he’s too old and fat and doesn’t care that much anymore. He has never been able to catch one, even in his heyday of youth. They come up on the deck, run around in the yard and taunt him.

OK maybe the birdseed has something to do with it…

He scrabbles onto the deck and they scurry down the posts and up a tree. They wait for him to go in then come back and do it again. Well, sadly for me, sadly for the squirrel but happily for Chester, He finally achieved his goal and caught up with one.  At least a part of one. I was doing dishes again (I’ve got to stop doing that, it causes trouble) and heard yet another racket in the back by the shed. I saw a squirrel run into the yard and up the fence. Chester was chasing it. It seemed that the squirrel had won again. I later saw Chester gleefully tossing something around. It was brown.  I went out, thinking it was the squirrel. It was part of it. He had bitten the tail off. Disgusted and heartsick, I told him to drop it, which he didn’t.  I waited until he threw it and grabbed him, taking him into the house. I buried the tail and have been watching for the squirrel. Apparently it is possible that they can live without a tail, but it is a disability. I’m not mad at Chester, he obtained his lifelong ambition and was just being a dog. But I hope the squirrel survived.

Chester digging a hole for no reason at all. Dogs R Dogs.

Last night I was weeding and something dropped out of the tree right on my head. It even made a “clunk” noise in my skull. A few minutes later I heard a chucking sound very close. I looked up and on a nearby branch a squirrel was looking at me. It had a very short  to no tail and I wondered, could it be? I thought it was asking me for peanuts so I went and got some.  It was still there, flattened out on the branch but I couldn’t see the tail. I tossed some peanuts around the base of the tree and another squirrel ate them. One with a really full and big tail. I continued to weed, watching the squirrel every so often. Finally I got a good look, and no, the tail was there, not full, but not missing either. I’ll keep you updated. We had a chipmunk that got in our house once thanks to Frank the Bad Cat, and we caught it in a bag and got it out. We found the tail a few days later. That chipmunk lived for years under our patio. So, it’s possible.

Watching for his next victim.

My theory is that the animals know I care and find me. Maybe they tell each other. Sometimes I feel like the caretaker of all of them. But if they are going to throw acorns at me (which is definitely what clunked me on the head) they can fend for themselves.

On a Seinfeld-esqe note, on Friday my husband took his car to the tire place to check on a slow leak. They told him they were pretty busy and he should make an appointment for Saturday morning. He did, and got up early, dutifully taking it when they opened. He called me about 10 minutes  later. He said it was going to be four or five hours. I said, “Didn’t you have an appointment?” He said, “Yes. They said that was just an appointment to drop it off.”

I laughed all the way to Painesville. It was done about 2:00 that afternoon.

Have a good week!

First Born musing

My sister stopped by for a break in her drive to Boston. She is going to see some cousins we haven’t met. She got together some photos to show them and came across this book…ignore the cat, Zeus was posing. What is inside? Simple. Pictures of the world’s cutest baby, aka me.

I was the first born in our family, and although they named me after a street (come on folks, really? You couldn’t have at least made up a better story? Not even a very nice street, but I digress.)

Yes, I was first born. My father was an avid photographer. Pictures of us kids, actually mostly me, were abundant until suddenly they were not. He had discovered slides, or rather he had access to a carousel. The carousel projector was patented in 1965 so that fits the timeline.

 If you are young, you will never know the joy of sitting in front of a portable screen, turning off the lights and watching a slide show. Keep in mind that it’s not like now, you couldn’t choose which photos to include, they were all put into slides. A couple were always inserted into the round canister upside down. Dad would mutter and fix it while we enjoyed secret mirth at whoever was standing on their head. There are thousands of slides in my sister’s attic, and the thought of going through them just beat her down until she did what the rest of us did with our ancestors’ stuff, which is put it in the attic and leave it for our kids. I inherited close to 1000 old jazz records. I still have a tiny grain of hope; I figure it will take me only about another 10 years to get rid of them. To my kids, I am sorry, I will try. Don’t bet on it though.

Anyway, back to first born privilege. I do feel privileged and I couldn’t help crowing a little. It all began with this…

Yes, I was pretty cute. They took pictures at 2 months, 4 months:

9 months (I was obsessed with this chicken)

And up. My husband says this one makes me look like the E-trade baby. I don’t know who the other baby is, but he/she is clearly inferior.

My sister commented that she did not find any pictures of her. There were more pictures of the chicken than her.  There weren’t any of my brother either, although by the way they spoiled him I’m sure they were taken! They are probably buried in the thousands of slides in my sister’s attic.

I tried to figure out pet characteristics and if Chester or the cats were first born. I’m not sure if it works with litters. Unless you are watching them be born and taking pictures, which I’m sure the mother cat would just love, you wouldn’t know who was first born.  I have an astrology for pets book but being that we don’t really know what day (or month or year) they were born it’s problematic. I tried to figure birth order out by their behavior. Chester has a routine in the morning; he goes outside, comes in and gets his Kong, then jumps on the couch so I can rub his belly. Then he falls asleep.

Definitely the king of the castle. He wakes up to go for a walk (even typing it makes me nervous because he goes crazy with that word!) Then he gets a Milk Bone or a Pup Cup from Biggby coffee (I get something too of course).

Chester’s opinion of the pretty spring flowers.

His evening routine consists of ignoring his dinner and asking to go outside.

He comes in and expects my husband (the soft touch) to give him a bacon strip or something. If he is ignored he barks and paws my husband’s leg. It’s so annoying. He does this once or twice until he realizes he’s not getting anything else until he eats his dinner. He knows the phrase “eat your dinner.” He eats his dinner then herds my husband into the kitchen to show him.  I roll my eyes. He then gets one more treat and falls asleep again.

Does that sound like a first born, middle kid or youngest? I’m conflicted.

Spring is blooming here and it is just beautiful! I’ll leave you with a picture of our tulips. They are just so pretty this year!

Have a good week!

Chester survives the eclipse

Yes, we survived. Cleveland was straight in the path of totality so it looked like this:

It was phenomenal! But first, let’s do a prequel…

Our daughter and son-in-law are moving from NYC to Portland. Oregon that is. This was a relatively sudden decision that caused excitement, envy, and sadness in me all at once. At least in Brooklyn we could drive to visit and they could drive back. Since the difficulty factor was rising, we decided to go to Brooklyn to visit them one last time before they move. Chester signed in at Camp Bow-Wow, met up with his dog buddies, and we were off.

The drive was no problem at all despite dire warnings of traffic jams. The media seemed to think that everyone in the western half of the USA was driving to Cleveland for the eclipse. This did not occur. We also had warnings to stock up on water. Yes, supposedly the eclipse was going to do something to the water. I think they confused it with COVID. Spoiler alert, the water was fine.

The kids had a going away party and we spent lots of good time visiting. It was just great until…

I was sitting/lying in the hotel room when the whole hotel shook. It shook longer than it would if a big truck drove by. I sat up and asked my husband, “What the heck was that?” He thought someone was engaging in construction. We knew it wasn’t anyone fixing the potholes. Duh.  People wandered out into the street (they always wander in the streets, but this was different). It was so weird because nobody knew what it was. We didn’t get an alarm on our phones for quite a while. Our daughter texted, “Whoa, earthquake!” Everyone in the street went back to work. Apparently it was a 4.8 earthquake. Welcome to New York, right?

Here is what you are supposed to do if you are in an earthquake.

I don’t know what the bottom row says, as this was cut off. I’m worried about the middle guy. Plus I’m afraid that is something we should do and I’m not going to know. We were a little calmer than the middle left people seem to be. The lower right seems to be a “Night of the Living Dead” incident.

I have a love-hate relationship with NYC. Our son will still be there, so we will go back but honestly we’ve been visiting there since 2011 and I swear we’ve gotten a parking ticket every single time…except this one. We finally figured it out I guess.

We drove back home, picking up Chester on the way. We had to get ready for the big eclipse! I’m sure just about everyone had some coverage of the eclipse but honestly it was way cooler than I had imagined. I was impressed by the whole thing. The sun and moon did a good job lining up so I guess we’ll keep them. Seriously, it was indescribable except to say I feel kind of small after these two earth events. Chester? He wasn’t too happy. He looked worried when it got dark and the birds stopped chirping. He sat by us then wanted to go in.

The weather here has been mercurial, here is a picture of our crocuses, then below is (I kid you not) two hours later! Today is in the 70s. Go figure.

I hope you enjoyed your weekend, and the past 4 or 5 or more weekends. I am going to try to post more often. My sister called me on it, saying she thought she had missed a Chester post. I sheepishly said she didn’t, it was just me. Sorry friends! I’ll step it up!

Groundhog 2024!

Back in the day, circa 2015, my sister and I visited the Big Cheese Groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day. He’s the one Bill Murray dealt with in the movie. When I began blogging, I told the story. Every year since, like clockwork, Groundhog Day comes around. And as per tradition, I have reposted this accounting of two sisters fulfilling a lifelong dream (well, something like that). From what I understand, today in 2024, Phil did not see his shadow, so we will have an early spring. Yippee! Would I go back and battle the 30,000 people who descend on the knob? No, but I say that wistfully. Truth is, some events are just perfect as they are and best left to memory. Happy Groundhog Day!

Happy Groundhog Day!

Great ideas and snowy days

In the movie, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” there’s a repeated line from Robert Redford playing the Sundance Kid. He says, “You just keep thinkin’ Butch. That’s what you’re good at.” I have to say I relate to Butch Cassidy. I have a lot of ideas. Here in Cleveland, in the snow belt, I have had lots of indoor time to refine them. You will soon be the grateful recipient of one of my gems. But first, the backstory…

Chester has been bored.

He watches the birds on the deck and chases away any of the squirrels. But lately he has been a little blasé about squirrels. Unless they come to the door and look in (totally true) he doesn’t care. If they do, he launches himself at the door causing them to run off. So I decided to take him to Lake Erie Bluffs for a walk. It’s better for the door. It was cold but not much below freezing and not too breezy so we went.

birds on our deck. The little one on the left was feisty, hanging with the bigger ones.

Chester loves snow. He buries his face in it and rolls around.

He loves our walks too, and he saw two other dogs. He was such a good dog. Even when one of them growled at him, he just stood there. They passed us (everyone is faster than we are when Chester has the sniffies) and after our walk, we upheld the tradition of going to Biggby Coffee. I always get a medium iced coffee with cream and Chester gets a pup cup, which is whipped cream in a little paper bowl with a dog biscuit on top.

Lake Erie

There is no way Chester would let me drive home with a pup cup in the console so we pulled over and he ate inhaled it. While he was getting every last bit of pup cup on his face I looked at the scenery. Biggby overlooks the dump. Well, we call it the dump but it’s unlike any dump we knew as kids. My husband said he used to go to the dump (different dump) with his dad and wasn’t allowed to get out of the truck because of the rats. Visible rats. This dump is a landfill and is a scenic wonder. There is a nice sloping hill covered with grass. I don’t know what is under the grass but from the Biggby parking lot it looks pristine.

See the nice hill in the distance? Who’d guess it’s part of the landfill.

We have a couple ski slopes near us, and in recent years they have struggled due to lack of snow. Now here is the light bulb idea…why not ski on the landfill? They have a building that they could rent skis and snowshoes from. Granted, it’s a beginner slope now but it will get bigger and bigger. Pretty soon it would be a mountain! I’m sure there is another area they could use to dump stuff in the winter. Then the people could come to Biggby Coffee and enjoy the bagels. Chester sure does. Even better, a dog park and ski hill! Now we’re talking.

happy skiers at Alpine Valley, close to us. Do you see my vision? Picture this in a landfill!

I have a friend who does pretty much what Sundance does to Butch…shakes her head and lets me come to the realization that this idea may have a few problems. I’m not seeing them but I don’t have enough information about the toxicity of the landfill. Thay may be a problem. I’ll have to look into it.

Anyway, we came back home, him with a full tummy and me with an iced coffee boost. I cleaned my office and moved the furniture. Here’s what Chester did.

I’ll let you know when the brilliant landfill idea becomes reality.