My Weekend

All those choices of things to do last weekend and I did none of them.

Instead I went to the greenhouse to collect some flowers. I walked in the door to find a bunch of ducks playing under one of the tables. Typical mallards and tame as can be. They walked along with me for a bit, checking out the flowers, helping me to choose until they were distracted by their wading pool.

As I was leaving, I asked their story. They were a gift to the owner’s granddaughter as Easter peeps but her mom wasn’t in favor of keeping them. For their protection, they lived in the greenhouse until they grew a bit, with the intention of releasing them at the nearby stream with the wild ducks. They’ve done so several times but each time they’ve returned within ten minutes. The greenhouse doors are left ajar while they are open for business so the ducks could leave if they chose to but it seems they prefer to stay.

I ended up with petunias in pinks and purples which I then took and planted in a yard not my own. Yeah, I’m at it again. My yard has been taken over by damn strawberry plants. I have no space left for flowers so I have to plant them elsewhere to enjoy.

Another stop I made was the yarn shop. Very deceptive place it is. The air conditioning there is on really high, I’m sure to help inspire customers to knit. There are so many pretty yarns to choose from but I already had something specific in mind for my next project. Still, it didn’t prevent me from wandering around and touching everything to see what I might want to use after that one’s finished.

I also took Beau for his first round of kitten shots. He’s nearly doubled in size, up to almost two whole pounds! He, of course, thinks he’s all grown up. He’s too old to hang out and play with me like he was doing. These days he spends his time with the big cats, ignoring me. Well, except when he annoys them too much and they put him in his place. Then he comes running to curl up on my shoulder again.

Do anything interesting?

Woohoo!

Reading sure is hopping these days. I don’t know how the people here manage to contain the excitement. There’s so much to do these next few weekends I don’t know how we’ll fit it all in.

Tonight – Out to the local strip club to see the woman who tempted Jesse away from Sandra. No need to say more on this one, is there?

Tomorrow – The Flying Circus Air Show at the airfield in the metropolis of Bethel. (For those of you unfamiliar with the area Bethel is a bit northwest of Reading. Be very careful if you’re heading that way. Blink and you’ll miss it.) Anyway, this is a real 1920’s style air show complete with barnstorming aerobatics and biplane rides. An all day event. The show’s at 2:00, rides before and after.

If that doesn’t interest you, Boyertown Fun Days are going on at the other end of the county. Pig races at 11:00. A twirling demonstration at noon. A second twirling demonstration by a different organization at 2:00. Martial arts demos at 5:00 and 6:00. And if you’re hungry there’s a late afternoon pig roast. It doesn’t specify but I suspect that’s how they motivate the pigs to race, by telling them that the losers will become dinner.

In the evening, it’s back to Al’s for a second performance by Ms. McGee.

If you make it through this weekend, next weekend there’s a chili cook-off at the local tobacco shop. While you’re waiting to judge that, you can participate in the Longest Ash competition. Their ad says to come out to enjoy the sights and sounds of the battle. Um, you’ll have to figure out what exactly that one means for yourself since I can’t tell if they’re referring to the ash thing or the chili.

At the same time, Danny Bonaduce is Appearing Live! (let’s hope so) at a local car dealership. I know it might be too much for some but I recommend checking out the set up for the cooking, running out to meet Danny and then racing back to do some chili sampling as you let your cigar burn away.

Reading – the entertainment capital of the universe. Aren’t I just so lucky to live here?

June 10

Today would have been my father’s 81st birthday.

He died years ago, leaving so many questions unasked, so many explanations untendered. There are things I’ll never know but still really need to.

Sorts

I’m out of em.

Sorts were originally used as the name for blocks of letters used in typesetting. Being out of them was clearly not a good thing if you were intending to print something.

Yeah, I’m out of that kind too.

Focus

Lately I’ve found myself doing Sudoku puzzles. The methodical logic required seems to still the rampant mind bounce that’s been going on far too frequently. I know. Funny, isn’t it? Me being deliberately logical.

The objective, in case you live in a cave, is to use every number, 1 through 9 without repeating that number in any column, row, or 3 X 3 square within the 9 X 9 grid. Simple, right? Well, yeah, sometimes it is. And sometimes I make such a disastrous mess of it that there’s no possibility of it will ever coming out right.

But the point isn’t really to complete the puzzle. For me, it’s more to take a moment and squelch all the noise going on within my head. As much as I’m able to anyway. It reorganizes me and makes me able to concentrate again. Until the next bizarre thought flits through my mind and it’s off and running again.

What do you do when your imagination refuses to quit and needs to be toned down a bit?

Now You Know

Mozzarella cheese. Nummy, right? Perfect with just about everything. But do you know where it comes from? There are several theories but here’s the one I like best.

If you’re thinking Italy you would be wrong. Not originally anyway, though the Romans are very involved in its history. Two thousand years ago, the Roman Empire was extensive. One of the conquered regions was Egypt. At the time, Julius Caesar sent Anthony to oversee the conquest.

As legend goes, Anthony fell in love with Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt. They supposedly spent hours cruising the Nile on barges pulled by water buffalo, feasting on cheese made from the milk of these animals. Soon the cheese, dubbed mozzarella, became associated with the passion the pair shared.

Anthony enjoyed it so much, he sent water buffalo and instructions on how to make the cheese back to Rome as a gift for Caesar. It was a huge hit which led to water buffalo being bred in Italy in order to make enough cheese for the populous. Over time, mozzarella was attributed to Italy and could not be duplicated anywhere.

Most mozzarella is now made from cow’s milk worldwide instead of the traditional water buffalo milk. Even so, there is no comparison to the delicate flavor of fresh mozzarella. And no, that stuff that comes shredded in bags at all grocery stores really doesn’t count.

Scandalous!

I am objectionable. According to Classmatesdotcom that is. Repeatedly, they send out emails urging me to post what I’m doing now. So I did. Due to the confidential nature of my day job I can’t really say much other than I work at a halfway house. Only now, after years on the Classmates site, it seems my other job as a published author is unacceptable to mention.

Over time, I’ve posted pictures of my book covers. Again, at the request of the site propaganda. “Let your friends see what you’re doing.” Well what I’m doing is writing erotic romances and the covers are my way of showing people. They also encourage members to post bulletins of what’s new in their lives. In my case that means book releases.

Yesterday, I went to add my newest book, Second Act, since I now have a cover and a release day, July 2nd. I logged on, only to find that all my photos and announcements are hidden due to “objectionable” content. I haven’t posted excerpts or even blurbs as I was sure that would have caused too much of a stir. Nor have I posted information on either my or the publishers’ websites for people to learn more since that is definitely against their rules. All I shared were covers which yes, are suggestive but there is no true nudity, no exposed parts.

So what Classmates really wants to know about are the nice, pleasant little mundane things and not anything that is remotely interesting or out of their comfort zone. Bully for them. I refuse to apologize for what I do. In fact, I’m damn proud of myself for accomplishing what I have. If anyone wants to sneer at me for it I suggest you give it a try. Go on. Write your own erotic romance novel, submit it to the foremost publisher in that genre and get your manuscript accepted. Once you do, let me know when your book is coming out. I’ll post all the pertinent info here for everyone to see.

As for Classmates, as soon as I figure out how, I will be removing my profile from their discriminatory site entirely. I will not be associated with any organization that exhibits such blatant censorship. Let someone else be treated as their redheaded stepchild. I’m done.

Happy weekend, all.

It's That Time Again

This Friday through Sunday there’s a huge gathering at the Reading Airport, the twentieth annual WWII Weekend. Expected attendance –25,000 plus 1800 re-enactors. The first year there were only 1000 people total. Quite a difference!

The focus this year is on a complete immersion into the time period. There will be a re-created French village that will host several skirmishes along with encampments styled on each of the European, Mediterranean and Pacific theaters. They even go so far as to bring in bamboo so there’s the proper foliage. On Saturday and Sunday there’s a huge frontline battle scheduled at 3:00.

Re-enactors spend the entire weekend in character, some of whom are going to be sharing period stories near the hanger displays. In addition to the camps and battles, there is also a home front area, including a 1940’s department store which will be open for business. In the evenings there’s a special dinner followed by dancing.

Ooh, I almost forgot to mention the planes. Reportedly, more than ever are coming in this year, making the event the largest of its kind in the country. There will be many fly-bys throughout the weekend, some of which you can purchase tickets for and actually ride along, as well as planes open on the ground to poke around in.

Carrying the theme one step farther, the summer’s MidDay Café in downtown Reading will kick off Friday from 11:30 to 1:30. It’s scheduled to be a D-Day celebration complete with a restored vehicle convoy, B-25’s overhead, period music and food from local restaurants. Hmm, I’m only two blocks from that, perhaps I’ll wander over.

Admission to the MidDay Café is free. Gates at the airport open daily at 8:30 a.m. and there is a three-day pass available for a reduced fee. For complete information, go here.

Mission Accomplished!

You may remember me mentioning that I’d undertaken a knitting project – an Aran knit sweater with different center panels on the front and back. Well, last weekend I finished assembling it and did the neck. It’s all done and I’m very pleased with the result.

I’m also extremely proud of myself since I had little idea what I was doing when I began. I’d never made any sort of cable or popcorn before and I can now do both. Intricate, double cables in addition to simple ones. I also picked up stitches to form the neck, something else I hadn’t attempted before. Overall, it’s damn impressive even if I do say so myself.

Tomorrow, I’m off to show the ladies at the yarn shop whose belief in my ability to have this come out anything close to resembling a sweater was questionable at best. I think while I’m there I’ll pick up yarn for another project. There’s a second sweater in the pattern book I used that’s just stunning and I know someone it would look lovely on. If I work at it I might have it finished in time for Christmas which is when I’m giving away the first one even though the recipient already knows of its existence.

Celebrate!

Today is Bixby’s birthday. He’s nineteen. Nineteen! He had so many problems the first two years of his life I had serious doubts that he’d make it to his third year let alone his nineteenth. But here he is. Ruling the house, keeping the rest of the fur babies in line, commandeering whatever sleeping spot he chooses at any given moment.

Bix has never been what you’d call an affectionate kitty. Not with people anyway. He adored Igor, one of the older resident cats from the day he moved in. They were instantly inseparable even though I brought home Bixby’s littermate along with him. It’s only the past few years, since Igor died, that Bix has begun to tolerate attention from me. And I think that’s only because I followed him around for months as he stomped up and down the stairs, searching the house for his buddy, Igor, after he was gone. When he eventually tired and sat still he’d lean against me and let him pet him, giving me that sad kitty look the whole time. It was a very long couple of months and again, I wasn’t sure Bix would survive it. He’d lost his bestest pal and he was beyond depressed. Yes, cats do stomp and yes, they do get depressed. Over the years he’s seen other kitties come and go but none have held a spot in Bix’s heart like Igor did.

Beau, the latest addition to the bunch, is providing Bixby with endless hours of entertainment. I swear he sits beside me, rolling his eyes and laughing Beau’s kitten antics. It only took one swat and a half a growl to make Beau understand he was not to pounce on any part of Bix. I wonder if I could convince him to explain that my toes are off limits too.

Anyway, it’s kitty birthday today. Join the celebration. Tuna for all!