A Long Day

Today is going to be a long day – not just here at the Boggy Thicket, but all over the world.

It seems that the gravitational pull of the moon has slowed the earth’s rotation, so whoever does that sort of stuff is adding a second today at 6:59:59 local time. 

This slowing isn’t anything new, it is constant and ongoing.  The last time a “Leap Second” was added was in 2012.

You probably won’t notice the difference.  About the only people directly affected are internet systems administrators, folks involved in electronic stock market trading and, of course, the guy who sets the atomic clock.

Actually, I do the same thing here. 

We have a grandfather clock that I have to reset occasionally.  The clock has an adjusting nut at the bottom of its pendulum; running the nut up speeds up the clock, and lowering it slows the clock down.  I suspect that things like temperature and humidity (and for all I know, the moon) affect its accuracy – anyway, every few weeks the clock will be a minute or two fast or slow, so I adjust the hands accordingly.

Old

I didn’t write this, but I almost wish I had.  It’s a poem I came across on line, and had to share.  

WHEN I AM OLD:

When I'm an old man, I'll live with each kid,
And bring so much happiness just as they did.
I want to pay back all the joy they've provided.
Returning each deed! Oh, they'll be so excited!

When I'm an old man and live with my kids.
I'll write on the walls with reds, whites and blues,
And I'll bounce on the furniture wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets and oh, how they'll shout!

When I'm an old man and live with my kids.
When they're on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head,

When I'm an old man and live with my kids.
When they cook dinner and call me to eat,
I'll not eat my green beans or salad or meat,
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
And when they get angry I'll run if I'm able!

When I'm an old man and live with my kids.
I'll sit close to the TV, through channels I'll click,
I'll cross both eyes just to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud 'til the end of the day!

When I'm an old man and live with my kids.
And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh,
I'll thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.
My kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
And say with a groan, "He's so sweet when He's sleeping !"

Kidnapped

My niece made the local news this past week when a pair of baby goats she had bought as a fathers day gift for my brother in law were stolen off her back porch.

Jennifer has posted flyers and is offering a reward.  I hope she gets them back, but don't think it's likely.  Can you say Cabrito?

You Look Just Like….

 

You know, you look exactly like ______! 

Has anyone ever told you that?  It has happened to me more times than I can count, but I have never actually seen anybody that really looks like me. 

I just haven’t.

Like most folks, I do have two eyes, two ears, one mouth and a nose that’s more-or-less centered on my face, but that’s about it.

In honesty, I suppose that I should admit that the guy looking back at me from the bathroom mirror doesn’t really look all that much like the image of myself that’s stored in my mind.  Even so, I simply don’t look much like anybody I’ve ever met.

My baby pictures and those of my grandson, Nash Robinson, looked so much alike that if you were to see them on your computer screen - and couldn’t compare the age of the paper - you probably wouldn’t be able to say which picture was Nash and which was of me.  That didn’t last long, though – by the time he was a toddler, he had developed his own unique features, and as a teenager he is much more handsome than I was at his age.

I suppose it is possible that I do have a doppelganger out there somewhere – I’ve just never seen anyone who comes close.

In spite of all the people over the years who swore I looked like someone they knew, I’ve only been mistaken for someone else once that I can remember.  That was years ago, late at night, and a certain amount of alcohol was involved.

Flamingo

Sculptor Don Featherstone died on Monday at the age of 79.  He was the inventor of the plastic pink flamingo lawn ornament that became an icon of American suburban values of the 1950s and, later, a symbol of postmodern, ironic detachment that hinted at a sense of cultural superiority.

For Featherstone, who designed the bird for Union Products Company’s Plastics for the Lawn line from pictures in a National Geographic magazine spread, the bird was a surprise hit – and the start of a cultural craze.

The company had tried marketing ducks, geese, swans, even ostriches, but nothing came close to the success of the flamingo, with its echoes of Florida exotica, that went on to sell 20 million pairs.  It’s been noted that there are literally more plastic flamingoes than real ones.

Asked in 2007 to explain why he thought the plastic pink flamingo was such a hit,  Featherstone told the Chicago Tribune: “We sold people tropical elegance in a box for less than $10. Before that, only the wealthy could afford to have bad taste.”

Mower and Mower

As I mentioned back on the 14th, I have been having serious issues with our old lawn mower. My post back then was a little optimistic – the hour or so I thought it would take to get the mower back together became almost a full day.  Even after I got it all together, I found that I had to make another trip to the hardware store for a spacer washer – something it hadn’t needed before. Once it was finally up and running, I had one blade that just fell off – Twice!

I finally got everything working properly, and was able to mow most of the yard yesterday.  I finished up this morning – except for one small area that no longer drains properly and was still a little too wet to mow.

Then, just before I was through, I somehow managed to get the mower caught on an old stump.  I’m not sure how it happened – I’ve mowed over that area before without any problem, but today, it snagged so badly that I had to use the tractor to pull it off. 

I was able to finish mowing, but the system that raises and lowers the mower deck no longer works, and it looks like the entire mower deck has shifted forward.  I don’t know what caused that – what may be bent or broken – but it looks like the mower and I are scheduled for another round in the shop.

Boomer and Speed

This week’s news carried stories about Boomer, a 40-year-old Grizzly Bear, and Speed, a 150-year old Galapagos Tortoise.  They were big attractions for years at their respective zoos, but they made the news this week because they both were euthanized.

Speed had been at the San Diego Zoo since 1933, but suffered from various aged-related maladies including severe arthritis.  The zoo staff had attempted to treat him with medication, hydrotherapy, physical therapy, even acupuncture, but decided on Friday that it was time to end his suffering.

Boomer was a resident of the Houston Zoo.  He came to the zoo in 2007 after being rescued from a private owner who was keeping him in unhealthy conditions. He was euthanized on Tuesday after a long period of declining health. Chronic arthritis, infections, and a bout with lymphoma had weakened him in recent years.

When does quality of life deteriorate to the point that it is better to end a life than attempt to prolong it?  It’s a tough decision, and one that should be made not simply from a practical standpoint.  It’s a decision that has to be made with love.