The Retirement Home and Meeting Mom - Humor

 The Retirement Home
After long consideration, a brother and sister decided to put their father in a retirement home.

After he was admitted and settled in they went to visit him.

They stood in the day room and watched him for a while while he sat on the couch watching television.

He started to lean to his left and as soon as he did, someone was there to straighten him up then, he started to lean to his right and, just as before, someone was there right away to straighten him up.

Feeling confident in their decision to have him put in the home they sat with their dad to ask him how he liked his new residence.

He sad "the place is fine, the food is good, they have my television shows but, they won't let me fart"!


A young man excitedly tells his mother he's fallen in love and is going to get married. 

He says, "Just for fun, Ma, I'm going to bring over three women and you try and guess which one I'm going to marry."

The mother agrees.

The next day, he brings three beautiful women into the house and sits them down on the couch and they chat for a while.

He then says, "Okay, Ma. Guess which one I'm going to marry."

She immediately replies, "The red-head in the middle."

Stunned, the young man says, "That's amazing, Ma. You're right. How did you know?"

"I don't like her," she says.

It's Not Wine! - Humor

It's not wine!

It was the second grade teacher's birthday. So every child in the class was giving her a special gift.

Anna's mother owned a flower shop, so Anna gave the teacher some beautiful flowers.

Robert's parents owned a candy shop. Robert gave the teacher a wonderful box of assorted candies.

Then it was little Johnny's turn. Johnny's dad owned a liquor store! So Johnny brought a big box for his teacher. When little Johnny handed the box to his teacher, she noticed that the bottom of the box was wet. So she put her finger on it and tasted.

"Is it wine?" the teacher asked.

"No, it's not wine!" Johnny replied.

She tasted it again. "Hmmmmmm. Is it some sort of liquor?"

"Nope, it's not liquor!" said Johnny.

She tasted it again and was puzzled. "Well, Johnny, I give up. What is it?"

Johnny was excited. "It's a puppy!" he said.

Smartphone, Stupid Driver

Yet another dog walk.  Getting out, seeing the city in the cool morning air, you get to see things that others don't necessarily see.

My dog is old, moves very slowly.  About 1 mile in an hour at this point.  So I have a lot of time to think, a lot of time to observe.

This particular morning, cool, crisp, and clear, I was walking along Wilton Drive.  Wilton Drive should be called Wilton Highway because it is four lanes with a turn lane in the middle, bracketed by a parking lane.   Illogical configuration for a "Downtown Shopping Street", it lends itself more for people who are trying to get through here instead of to here. 

The morning rush hour coincided with my morning dog walk this day.  I was up a little late, so I got to see the Drive become the Raceway.

There was a gap in traffic, and here came this car, an older Toyota Camry.  Typically when I see one of those here, I expect a bad driver and this time I was unfortunately correct.

Coming around the curve past City Hall and the Shoppes, she was driving a bit too fast for conditions.  I didn't have a stop watch but I think I'd win a bet that she was speeding.  The speed wasn't really a problem, for that particular moment there was nobody either direction on the half of the Drive that I could see.

Lettie was sniffing a pole, and I was absentmindedly watching this green car come flying up the Drive.  The driver was doing a bad job of keeping the car piloted within the stripes of the lane, and I was wondering if I wasn't going to have to call the police because of a future accident.  Had it been late in the evening I would have thought DUI. 

The "I" that was the influence in this case was obvious when she weaved out of her lane and looked up to her steering wheel to correct her direction.   She was a distracted driver.  She had her smartphone out and was most likely texting someone.

Idiot.  

Leave the phone in your pocket.  Your right to stay informed and inform others does not mean that you have the right to put the rest of the public at risk.

She sped past me while she went back to her important business of texting when she rolled through the stale-yellow of the stop light at NE 9th Avenue and onward toward Five Points.

I'm glad I was on the sidewalk.

Modern Life Is Logistics

Did you ever step back and think how is everything going to fit in?

I'm having one of those days.

But they're normal, if you think about it.

We have all these labor saving devices to save us time so we can find more things to do with that time we saved.   Time isn't strictly speaking "Saved".  You don't have a Time Piggy Bank somewhere that you can withdraw from when you are feeling harried.   The end result is that you find strategies to get more effective and more efficient with what you're doing.

Basic Project Management.

Going to the shops?  Make sure you have a list of the most important things.  Don't forget a pen if it's on paper. 

I always forget that.   Well, that and my glasses.

Getting up an extra half hour early is a great way to fit things in if you hadn't gotten to sleep late the night before.  That ends up in a candle burnt at both ends.

On the other hand, you can do a lot in a half hour.

The last time I felt I needed to get things done, I multitasked a list of things.

Made a crock pot of Carnitas Pork.
Made bread dough for rolls for later baking.
Roasted a batch of Decaf Coffee.
Brewed a mug of Third Caff Coffee.
Brewed a pitcher of Iced Tea.
Breakfast was in order.
Made the dog happy by tossing her an ice cube.

You never know how much you can fit in a block of time, but always remember those around you who deserve that little extra attention.  

It may just be an ice cube to you, but to the dog it's a wonderful treat.

Since there is always some time to fit more in later, I've also got three laptops I'm prepping for a friend from Key West who is visiting.  Yes, all at once.

Line them up, knock them down!  Win a kewpie doll!

So got more to do?  Sure, but there's time for it since Modern Life is Logistics.

Too Cold To Roast

Ran out of coffee this morning.  Yeah, I know it's a tragedy.  But I can always roast more, except there's a problem. 

Sure, the weather.  It's Iguana Killing Cold out there today.

You know, when the temps get below 50 for the evening and stay there into the morning?

Yes, it does effect my coffee, and don't get in the way of a man and his morning mug!

Conversation went on like that, or at least half of it did outside this morning.   Mind you, it's a brilliant day.  The skies don't have a cloud in them, and that's what cooled us off.  Radiative Cooling the talking heads on the weather call it.  Front rolls in, makes it dry, and the clouds block some of the heat going back into outer space.  So you lose a few degrees the next day.

As for the Iguanas, they're an invasive species.  I'd shiver all week if it would get rid of them once and for all. 

The deal with my coffee is that I ran low on roasted beans today.  I'll wait until late in the afternoon or dinner hour to roast since I don't want to turn on a popcorn popper full of beans to "perfume" the house with three batches worth of coffee smoke.  There's this window in my kitchen behind the sink that is a serving area for the Lanai, push the coffee roaster outside and it shares my coffee with the neighbors.  When the temps are in the mid 40s like today, coffee just won't roast right.

So bundle up South Florida, it's going to be cool all week.   Bad luck Snowbirds, if you picked this week to be here, it's a good one to go to the malls.

Do We Really Need Adobe Reader? No, and Here is How to Fix That!

Lately, I've been noticing that I've been opening PDF Files less and less with that annoying Adobe Reader, and more and more with Firefox.

I didn't put two and two together, didn't really care as long as I can read my PDFs.

For years, instead of sending a document like a Recipe, Resume, or any other thing that starts with "R" to paper, I would print directly to a PDF File.   Much cleaner, I don't want a massive filing cabinet, and as any reader of this blog knows, I love to cook.  Loving to cook means I have a LOT of recipes.

But they're all printed to PDF so they sit on a postage stamp sized chip that I can put in any of my laptops.  I use CutePDF, and have been using their free CutePDF Writer for years.  It's something that will eventually get built into Windows, may even be in other operating systems, but the Print to PDF is something that I personally think is a requirement.

In fact when I am setting up a computer for someone, I install it and explain why they need it.  The lightbulb goes on and I get another Convert.

So since I have all these files sitting around I need to read them.  For me, it's Firefox.  File, Open, and point it at a PDF and you can see your document.  Chrome will view them too.   The ability has been in Linux and Mac OSX for years, natively.

If all you are doing is viewing a document, you're done.   If you need to write notes on them, you will need something more robust like Acrobat, or even that blasted Reader that Adobe makes you update practically every day. 

But for most of us, you can remove the Adobe Reader now.  

In Windows 7, you can do it via the Control Panel, just like removing any other program:

• Start
• Control Panel
• Programs and Features
• Find Double click on Adobe Reader in the list.
• Answer yes to the "Are You Sure" message.
• Answer yes to the "User Account Control" message that asks if you want to make a change to your system.
• Say goodbye to one more program that was a way for your system to get a virus.

To configure your system to open a PDF in Firefox or any other program you choose:

• Start
• Windows Explorer
• Locate a PDF and Right Click on the icon and click on Properties.
• On the General Tab, Select the Change Button
• Select your favorite program to open a PDF, in my case, I'm selecting Firefox and I did have to browse to find it.
• Make sure the "Always Use" checkbox is ticked.
• Click OK.
• Click OK to close the Properties window.

 Of course if you really feel you need the reader, you can always go back to Adobe and reinstall it.

The Windshield You Save May Be Your Own - Humor

Up North, people will drive in circles.  They burn overpriced Speculator inflated prices for gasoline in giant SUVs in massive parking lots looking for the closest parking space to the door.

Lazy, but it's human nature.

Down here in South Florida, you'll notice that the first spots to fill up are under a tree.

Those spots all have the local license plates, or plates from someone who lives in the Sun Belt. 

Why?  Well, I've gotten into my Jeep that was facing into the sun once and found that the foam rubber on the steering wheel that Chrysler put there 10 years ago had become somehow molten and now I was holding onto a rubber snake that would twist in my hand.

Yes, this is the land of Rubber Cobras and people baking cookies on the dashboard of their cars.

Why not?  After all, a cookie sheet will protect the dashboard just as effectively as that piece of carpet.  Besides who doesn't like a tasty snack?

That's all well and good but the malls and shopping centers have only so much room to put Islands for Trees, and unfortunately they don't do a good job of covering the pavement area when there is a tree there.

On the other hand there public planners have to be very careful of what they plant next to a car park.

That was illustrated everywhere in this little patch of Paradise this weekend.  We had a windy day.

Mind you this wasn't really anything to get excited about.  It was only 35 mph gusts.  20 or so base winds.  I can bike that fast on flat ground, 20mph isn't really that fast.

Except... I've got to be Good Guy Bill again and warn a neighbor. 

You see, they're renters.  They moved in with Northern Plates on the cars and they got changed out to White and Green Florida plates.  They are planning on setting down roots.

So letting them in on the details of living here in the land of roaming Ball Pythons and falling Iguanas is our duty.

These renters have a rather nice little mini SUV.  The badge of a Suburban type.  Quiet folks, I can't say I've actually seen them more than once in the last few months.

That rather nice little mini SUV is parked quietly on their property.  Right under the tree.  It stays cool there.  Cool is good.

Except...  The tree is the neighborhood Mango.  It's a magnificent tree, about 40 feet tall and about as broad.  It's a mature tree that I wish was on my own yard.  You see, that tree is in full fruit, and will have two crops this year.

Take one Mango tree in season and you will get about 100 pounds of fruit, plus or minus a couple pounds.

So the wind kicks up and the fruit becomes the picture perfect definition of a Windfall.  Mangoes fall from the tree in all stages of ripeness.  It just depends on how the wind hits them.  Immature fruit are about as soft as your average piece of granite.   Falling from 40 feet, it will take about a second to hit the ground.  

Now, if you have a good fruit baring year, those wonderful mangoes on that magnificent tree become quite large.  

I managed to collect a few of those fruits that hit the ground, the owner of the property knows I really enjoy mangoes.   So I walked out to the kitchen and grabbed the largest fruit.   It weighed 17 ounces.

Yes, 17 ounces of a green granite grenade flying at your head from 40 feet.  That works out to be about 21mph.

Now, while 21mph isn't exactly fast, the force of a one pound, one ounce block of granite colliding with your windshield would be like if I had taken a brick and hurled it at the same spot.

Hilarity would ensue.

So folks when you decide to come down for a visit with your nice shiny SUV and park here under a nice big broad tree that is seemingly the only open place for you to park, take my advice.

Look up and check for falling fruit.  The windshield you save may be your own.

New Windows and Hotel Humor

Bad Joke Sunday?  Sure... this one is mostly about windows.  No, not the computer kind, but in a building!  Read on, you'll see...



New Windows

I bought all new double insulated, top of the line windows for my house last year.

Home Depot called me yesterday and said I owed them for the windows. I told them what my salesman told me "These windows will pay for themselves within a year".

Helloooooo it’s been over a year, they should be paid for. The guy was silent on the other end so after a few minutes I hung up. I bet they feel really stupid!



Hotel

A guy calls the hotel desk clerk and says 'My wife and I just had a huge fight and now she says she is going to jump out the window'.

The clerk responds 'sir, I believe this is a personal problem'.

The guy says 'like hell it is, this is a maintenance problem, I can't get the window open'.

Cat Joke

I'll admit it, I don't understand cats.  It's because if I get near one indoors, within 20 minutes I begin losing my voice because of my allergies.  Since it's a pet, so therefore I give it the respect it deserves and keep my own distance.  I wish it were different because they give so much joy to others.  In my case it's one of those "From A Distance" things.

Except Bandit next door.  Bandit's cool.  He thinks he's a dog.

Anyway, since it's Bad Joke Saturday... Here Ya Go!


Cat joke

A man hated his wife's cat and wanted get rid of it. He drove 40 blocks away from home and dropped the cat. The cat was already walking up their driveway as he got back to their house.

The next day he decided to drive the cat 6 miles away but the same thing happened.

He kept on increasing how far away he took the cat but the cat kept coming back. Finally, he decided to drive the cat 30 miles away, turn right, then left, past the bridge, then right again and another right and so on until he reached what he thought was a perfect spot and left the cat there.

Hours later, the man called his wife at home and asked her, "Jen, is the cat there?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" answered the wife.

"Put that cat on the phone. I’m lost and I need directions!”

Need Excel or Word? Try Libre Office Free

Sure, it's written like a spam or a sales document but the truth is that most people won't need anything else and yes, it it is completely free.  Libre Office, is a complete office suite, and it really is free.

Ok, why am I talking like a salesman?  Simple, someone asked me if they could "borrow" my copy of Microsoft Word.  6:45 AM in the middle of my dog walk.  I told them to check my blog today for links for downloads for Libre Office instead.

First, you don't really borrow software, you do that and it is considered piracy.
Second, you don't really need to spend the money for a word processor or spreadsheet program when there is an excellent free piece of software out there.

Yes.  Free.

As in Free and Open Source Software.  "FOSS".

Keeping this simple, basically "FOSS" works.  People do write software to do things and sometimes it is put out there for everyone to use.  You know, good guy stuff?

In the case of Libre Office, you can replace Microsoft Office with it.

Word is replaced by Libre Office Writer. 
Excel is replaced by Libre Office Calc.
Access is replaced by Libre Office Base.
Powerpoint is replaced by Libre Office Impress.
and Visio is replaced by Libre Office Draw.
They also have something called Libre Office Math, which I believe is a replacement for Mathematica but I don't have any experience with it. It lets you solve equations like the ones you had in Algebra and Calculus by typing in the formula.  Don't tell your high school kid but it should solve their homework for them.

Now, if you are a professional, you'll realize that in certain cases you simply can't use anything else.  Your IT Department decided this is what you're going to use.  Go for it.

But if you are like the majority of computer users, on Linux, Mac or Windows, all you really need these days are a good browser and an occasional Word Processor and Spreadsheet.   The rest is overkill but hey, it's all free.  They do make their money by donations, so if you're fully employed you might want to drop some money in their tip jar. 

Think about it, Five Bucks for a Microsoft Office Work-alike Replacement.  Pretty cool, huh?

I use it on my machines here, Windows, Mac, and Linux.  In fact it came free with Linux Ubuntu, I didn't have to think to install it ... there it was.  It's on my CentOS Linux Server that I'm building right now.  My Linux People will know - Synaptic has all this stuff for the asking on Ubuntu and Debian. I loves me some Synaptic!

The thing is that even the output files that you create using Libre Office are the same format as those out of the more popular programs like Microsoft Office.  The only rub is that you have to make sure you tell it to use the docx or xlsx formats when you save, or configure Libre Office to do that once and for all.  I forget once in a while and then get a little confused as to why my resume is not in docx.

The download page is here.  Like I said, you don't have to pay for it.  It's free.

Penta Flowers In Bloom

If for no other reason, I went out back looking for inspiration.

Welcome to Wilton Manors where Inspiration can be Incongruity.

It can also be a pot of penta flowers.

Whenever I'm stuck for writing material, I grab the camera.  Either I check to see what I have on the chip and write about it, or I go out and explore. 

No matter where you live, there can be things to take pictures of.  The bleakness of a desert or a tundra can be beautiful in the right light and the right hand.

In my case, I've had flowers since I was a wee brat, so I walked out back for a bit of a snoop about.

Standing over the pot of little flowers I thought "I'll take a picture of that and post it".  With me, it's rarely simply that.  I was standing in the morning cool when I realized how different things were around here, and that's just how we like it.

My neighbor took in a roommate with a small aviary.  I've had birds since I was a teen, so I don't mind, in fact I'm amused by the chatter of a couple small parakeets arguing in the cage in the morning sun.  While listening to that, the noise started up overhead from another Cherry Headed Amazon who was coming in for breakfast in the tall palm tree in the utility easement.  Still higher, the Red Baron was flying his Red Biplane over top of my yard.

Curse You Red Baron!  Curse your morning noise breaking the peace and quiet of the parakeet's chattering and the parrot's screeching!  I said with a Meyer Lemon picked off the tree.

I guess I'll have a bit of lemonade later on when I get thirsty. 

So when life gives you Meyer Lemons, make Lemonade and have a look at your flowers.  I'm thinking I'll have mine with honey this time.

Keep Calm and Enjoy Lemonade.

Helping the Monarch Butterflies with a Few Seeds

Down in Mexico there's a "semi-secret" place.

High above a small city in a forest this place is a gathering place for millions of Monarch butterflies.  

It's the place where the Monarchs that are East of the Rocky Mountains overwinter.  The descendents of the butterflies floating anywhere North of that valley in the Sierra Madre mountains in Michoacan State in Mexico make it to spot just so they can survive the winter in peace.  The western populations have their own overwintering place in Southern California.

The ones that I see here in Florida are beautiful but they are here all year.  They don't travel far, and I consider that a blessing since I enjoy having them as neighbors and visitors. 

The problem is that this year, the count of Monarchs was very low in Mexico. 

I got involved, and it's very simple.  Plant Milkweed seeds wherever you can find the room. 

When I saw the original article, it was posted by a local friend here, Constance.  I simply asked if she had seeds.   Thanks to Constance, our own local population will have another grazing place in a few weeks under the eaves of my backyard shed.

Milkweed grows best in a spot that is well watered and not completely full sun.  On the other hand, if you're out of South Florida, your plants will be different since mine is the fully tropical Mexican Variety like in this Wikipedia picture.

I also carry a few seeds with me.  If I find a place that I think it can grow undisturbed, a few accidentally fall from my pocket.

Accidentally of course.

Milkweed varieties grow all over the US and Canada, but if you can't find the stuff, a stop in at a nursery for some "Butterfly plants".  They are rarely the showy plants with giant blossoms, but since you're growing them for the butterflies, you'll get your beauty from these visitors.

There are plenty of charities that will be able to help if you're in a city or just aren't a gardener.  This is one.

The easiest thing is simply to plant some flowering plants.  The butterflies will stop by and be on their way, and you as a property owner will get the pleasure of a better garden and a little better property value.

I will say that the Mexican Milkweed I grow in pots end up being little sticks.  One quirk I have noticed is that the Monarchs come in waves here in South Florida.  They'll float into the garden and find the milkweed, lay an egg and be on their way.  Others will follow.   A few weeks later, I find a caterpillar chewing on the leaves and stalks of my plants and I'm left with those sticks.  All goes quiet until the milkweed comes back, and the cycle repeats.

You can ignore the milkweed, the Monarchs will keep it trimmed back pretty effectively as a result.

Antique Newspaper Delivery in Wilton Manors

Getting up before sunrise to walk the dog, there are a few things I expect to see.

The six o'clock hour belongs to the dog walkers and the gym goers.  I see the same cars on the same streets every day.  If I don't see them, I'm probably running either early or late.

The tennis instructor in his red Golf.
The neighbor who runs a pool service down the block.
The office workers in their various cars.

Same time tomorrow, CYA Then!

The dog walkers are out pretty much the same place at the same time.

Little petite lady with her tiny Maltese that runs all over the place off leash.
Big burly biker type with his Yorkie puppy that is beyond friendly.
The guy that's overwrought with his pack of rescue dogs.

After rounding the corner, I see Barb most days.  She's a very friendly person who usually knows all the details and wants to share them.  Lately she's been obsessing about her newspaper delivery.  She gets both the Miami Herald and the Ft Lauderdale Sun Sentinel.  The Herald is a national class paper, while the Sun Sentinel I only look at when I have the time.   I haven't subscribed to a newspaper since the 90s simply because I'm inundated and I really don't think I get much value from the Sun Sentinel.

But Barb wants her papers, and lately she has been getting them late.

Newspaper delivery isn't exactly easy work, and for what they're doing it's underpaid work.  Getting up at the crack of 3AM, driving all over town flinging papers at homes, making sure you don't miss any and talking with people who are waiting for them is one of those things that you really have to be prepared for.

When someone is out sick, it means the supervisor has to take over the route.  In Barb's case, the supervisor told her that the guy who did it here quit.

I guess he found a better paying job like slinging burgers.

I've been getting chapter-and-verse about the troubles the paper has been having with trying to keep people working these routes.

This morning, I had a bit of a surprise.

I'm half asleep and a half hour late.  Walking down the street I see a slow moving car, but hear a sound from the past.  A deep rumbling bass note from a car that wasn't one of those mindless resonator "Boom Cars" that was popular a while back, this was the real deal.  A large block American V8 1970s Muscle Car was slowly moving down the street toward me as I was picking up after Mrs Dog.

That's the thing, in Wilton Manors you get used to the quirky and the unexpected.

Here was a young guy, 20 something, with his young girlfriend or just riding partner.  They were moving slowly in a "cherry" 1970s vintage Ford Mustang Convertible, just before dawn, flipping newspapers down the street.

She was half asleep, he was busy doing his job, neither really paying too much attention to me and the dog.

I was amused.  Here was a blue Mustang that was giving me a one car antique car parade.   Rumbling smoothly down the block I half expected a politician in the back seat waving at me and asking "for your support" instead of doing duty as a delivery vehicle.

It passed me and the dog, slowly.  I noticed the smell of an older V8 running a bit rich.  Catching the license plate, I saw the tell-tale blue of a Florida Antique plate and thought to myself it deserved that status.

Even at 6:30 in the morning, before the sun came up, that car was worth the look.  I guess once a motorhead, always a motorhead.

Turn Facebook Sound Notifications Off

Ok, the little "bedoop" sound was Facebook being "cutesie". 

Distracting little sound that fired off whenever you got a notification.  I guess you could tell I didn't care for it. 

They're up to stuff again, and we're going to have a bunch of changes forced on us like the graph search and more advertiser friendly layouts to the pages.  It remains to be seen whether we can turn most of that off.  The ads, I will certainly look for a blocker for.  I run adblock plus on every browser I have on all five operating systems I run. 

We shall see.

But the little sound notification can be stopped.  It's cute, but definitely not office friendly.  I do a LOT of research, probably as much as 6 hours a day and having my laptop make noises is not a good idea.

First, Log into Facebook.
Click on the little gear for your account menu.
Click Account Settings in the little dropdown that shows up.
Click Notifications on the settings in the left hand column.
In Notifications Settings, Select the first "View" for "How You Get Notifications".  This is the "On Facebook" line.
You can turn off the little sound by ticking the box for "Play A Sound When Each Notification is Received". 
Click Save Changes and then go back to being social.

After all, you may like the sound, and you can turn it back on by leaving that box checked.

It's up to you.

For now...

The Flu, Passing Gum, and Tourists - Humor

The Flu

A man came down with the flu and was forced to stay home one day. 
He was glad for the interlude because it taught him how much his wife loved him.

She was so thrilled to have him around that when a delivery man or the mailman arrived, she ran out and yelled...

"My husband's home! My husband's home!" 

 

Passing gum

A girl and a boy were at the back of the movie theater, kissing passionately. 
When they come up for air, the boy says "I really love kissing you, but do you mind not passing me your chewing gum". 
The girl replies "It's not chewing gum, I've got bronchitis".


Tourists

A Husband and Wife driving thru Arizona get into a discussion about how to pronounce Gila Bend.

They stop at a fast food restaurant and ask the girl behind the counter, "we're visiting here and have a disagreement about the pronunciation of this place. Could you say it slow so we catch it?"

"Sure", she says, " its called.. BUR...GER...KING.."

Arthritis - Humor

Arthritis

A drunk man who smelled like beer sat down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes the man turned to the priest and asked, "Say, Father, what causes arthritis?"

"My Son, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol and a contempt for your fellow man."

"Well, I'll be damned," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.

The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized.

"I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?"

"I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does."

My Own Furry Project Mis-Manager

If a Neat Desk is the sign of a Sick Mind, then a Cluttered Desk is the sign of a Nervous Dog.

I stopped using the desk a couple years ago.  It's getting piled high with projects.  For someone who calls themselves a Project Manager, that's a bit of an embarrassment.  But yes, I am blaming it on the dog.

Not the usual way, in this case there's something else going on.  One Wet Nose.

I am watched very closely by Lettie.  If I leave one room, she will wait until I settle in and then position herself so she can see what I'm doing.

Except there's a wrinkle.  If I'm feeling mischievous, I'll wait.  She'll fall asleep.  Old dogs do that sort of thing.  She'll sleep most of the day anyway and one of the sounds of the house over the radio playing softly, the all the various clocks, the occasional parrot chatter both inside and outside of the house, is her snoring.  Her snoring isn't the trick, it's that she's mostly deaf.

Quietly, on little sneaker clad feet, I'll leave the room.  She won't realize it for another 15 minutes or so until she wakes up and looks around to check in on me.   Then it's a perimeter search and find out where everyone is.

So if I need something at my desk, I have found the path of least resistance is to wait until she's snoring.  The music will help to drown out most sounds.  Then up and go take care of business.

That doesn't help with the desk.  There is a pile of old battery operated watches waiting to be re-fitted with new batteries, a couple hard drives, an assortment of tools - all of which are waiting for a free moment of time when the wet nose brigade hasn't found me.

It makes her even more nervous.

So we're in a feed back loop.  She watches me a bit too closely and wants to help.  I end up wearing my automatic and wind up watches as a result.

I am waiting though.  I may have a nice long block of time.  There's an electronics hack that requires me to use a little bell wire and a soldering gun.  She'll forget to follow me one day and then who knows!  Soldering time!

Happy Pi Day

Happy Pi Day.

This one is Cherry. 

Cherry Pie is my Favorite!

Ok, beyond that silliness and commenting about food, Pi Day is simply that in the Month/Day/Year date system, today is 03.14.13.

Get it?  3.14?

In 2 years it will really be Pi Day, won't that be exciting?  3.14.15?

Math jokes.  Shaking my head.  Gees, Bill you're usually better than THAT!

Pi is the ratio of the Circumference to the Diameter of the circle.  It's 3.1415... times longer around the circle than right across it at the longest point.

Ok, two easy approximations:

• Pi is approximately 22/7.  3.142857142857143
• If that is tough, remember the series 355 113.  Now divide it - 355/113 - and you get the other approximation that I was taught. 3.141592920353982

I don't know why that second one is easier, it's just the one I remember.   They're just approximations.  I won't tell, besides your calculator probably has a Pi button so use THAT!  3.1415926535897932384626433832795 according to Windows.

Hey, it's no weirder than staring at the digital clock and waiting for the Cool Numbers to come across!

And remember, folks, at 14 minutes past 3 this afternoon, it will be Pi on Pi.  

So have a slice of Pie on Pi Day.

Brother, Can You Spare a Pizza? - Picture

Lettie is on a very strict diet.

Everything has to be on the Approved List, and the Approved List is really very small.

With her Chronic Renal Failure, twice daily Thyroid pills, creaky bones, slow walk, and general Old Age, Mrs Dog is on her Bonus Time.

It doesn't stop her from getting her point across.

Being a fearful dog, she's got a very gentle way of getting that point across.

She still wants anything that Dad, that's me, has.  She now will beg from anyone that has anything that she thinks she can get something from, anything that she thinks she wants.

Since she's incredibly intelligent, more so than many people I know, she also knows how to get that point across.  She was taught a long time ago the concept of Show Me.  That is, to say, she will lead you to what she wants and crook her head at it.  Then she will look back at you directly. 

Doggy says Gimme.

If she needs out, she'll take you to the door.
If she needs water, she will walk you to the bowl and look at it.
If she is hungry for a treat, she walks you into the kitchen and looks up at the cabinet above the oven.

I just finished making a couple pieces of pizza warm and crispy, since nobody here in South Florida knows how to make a pizza.  At least nobody I have found...

Walking over to my chair, that was when the fun started.

She knows she is not supposed to beg, but she started.   Staring at me.  Two brown eyes.  Intensely melting through my soul like a laser beam, she was telling me that she wanted some of what I had. 

That piece of pizza.  Or one of three.  Doesn't matter, Lettie was looking for a handout.

Unfortunately, the Chronic Renal Failure Diet means No Salt, No Phosphorous, Low Fat (Bad Pancreas too), and a host of other Noes.  No table food for Mrs Dog, at all.  I've had to dive for a piece of cold cut that fell onto the floor before she'd attack it.

She assumed the position in view of me, all the while she would stare at me with my shaking my head.

As I started piece number one, I saw Billy walk across the street with a handful of things to return.  He needed help with his computer.

By the point when Billy was inside the door, Lettie had assumed the position between the couch and the coffee table and stood, stock still, immobile.

The brown laser beams never stopped.  In fact, she just glanced back at Billy and then went back to staring me down.

Billy had the onerous job of trying to convince her to move so he could sit down on the couch.  Who knew a 42 pounds dog could take up so much room.

Nudge her gently, I said, She'll move!

It didn't work.

Try it again!

Nope.

No such luck, she wasn't moving.

So Billy nudged her down one paw-print at a time to allow him enough room to put himself on the couch.   She wasn't giving way easily.

But since Billy was seated, I was able to keep eating my lunch.  At least I DID offer him a beer.  I'm not a total waste of a host!

She migrated past me, to her mat.  The entire time I was shaking my head, the Universal Signal for No.  It didn't work.  She didn't stop until those three pieces of Mushroom Pizza with Sopressatta were firmly down my gullet.

None of us had seen her quite that intense.

I walked the plate to the kitchen and she calmed down but never stopped staring.

After a half hour of visiting and necessities, I could finally bend down to her ear and ask.  She wagged her tail knowing the ritual of Show Me was upon us.

I asked "Show me, do you want to go outside?".

That would be a big fat no.

I was lead to the kitchen where she demanded retribution for not giving her that pizza.

Having given her a couple treats that were on the approved list, finally, the job was done and Mrs Dog could rest, happily, on her mat.

Swimming Lizard, Floating Lizard - Picture

Hey!  I knew you would want to see this!  Bring your camera!
What's that?
There's a lizard in the pool.  He's floating!
Ok, Got to see this!  Where is the Camera?

So stumbling around the house, I was handed the camera.  It was in the Kitchen, where all good cameras are kept, apparently.

We walked out back to the pool.  It was a wee little thing.  I think that smallness was how it could do that trick.

On top of the water was floating one little lizard.   It was being blown toward the edge, but not close enough for it to struggle out and go on with it's little lizard-y life.

I got the picture I needed, then went about to do my duty of saving the little creature.

Scooping it up with my right hand, I managed to get it out of the water.  It warmed up and then, suddenly, Leaping Lizards! it went on its way.

More like I walked over to the plants and touched its nose to the poinsettia.  It was slow from the cool but my hand was helping it come up to temperature.  Waking up from its stupor, it jumped from my finger and went on with its life.

Mom Never Liked Time Change Day

Mom had her strengths. 
Mom had her weaknesses. 
Moms always do.

My own Mom's Achilles Heel was technology.  She hated it. 

In fact, this woman who could remember encyclopedic knowledge about Cherry Hill, NJ, the surrounding Camden County, and the Real Estate market of South Jersey was absolutely slammed by the slightest burble in anything "technological".

This was the era of the 1980s.  Blinking 12:00 on VCR clocks are the norm.  This was before they got wise and used the "whitespace" on the bottom of the old Analogue TV NTSC broadcast signals to set VCR clocks. 

Mom hated VCRs until someone brought her a movie to watch.  Then they were great. 

One weekend I came home and found a list.  Yes, a Honey Do List.  Where do you think it was taped?  On the VCR.  Over top of the blinking 12:00 was a concise note saying "Fix This".

I knew I was going to find other notes like that around the house but that was the first one I spotted.

I'd visit mom on the weekends, most weekends, and that was the norm.  Come in the door, and if the house was empty, look for the Honey Do List. 

Twice a year, I reached my own Technology Kryptonite.  Mom's Car.

Like many women of her age bracket and that era, she was treating herself to a new car.  She was successful and wanted a car to fit her station in life.  She was going to get the car that she had wanted for decades.  In this case it was a 1986 Lincoln Continental.  Metallic Grey outside, Lighter Grey inside.

She loved that car. 

It was stuffed with all the technology that the mid 1980s American Car Industry could possibly stuff inside of a large land yacht.  

She was proud of all of that stuff even if she didn't use it.  She didn't use it because she didn't know how, but that wasn't the point was it?  The point was that she HAD it and it was good.

Except twice a year, it annoyed her.  Like clockwork, the Time Change Day came and that would be when I got the call.

Bill, can you set the clocks when you come by next weekend?

It wasn't so much of a request.  It was Mom setting an appointment for me to be at her house on a search and destroy mission.  I was to set the clocks in the house.  All of them.  If I missed one, I'd be back next week to set THAT one.

But the car was the worst.  Those cars had a row of buttons that you would use to work your way through a menu to get to the right spot, then hit another button to go up and down on the hour and minute.  It was never quite clear which one to hit so you had first to dig into the glove compartment. 

Push aside the sunglasses, old Real Estate marketing dreck, half used Sweet N Low packets, and other detritus to find the book. 

I'm sorry, The Book, since it was always spoken of in Those Terms like it was a holy tome.   This monstrosity of an intractible tract was the Car Owner's Manual for Your Lincoln Continental, 1986 edition. 

Since the car was not mine, and never did become mine, I had the onerous task of trying to figure out how to set that blasted clock twice a year.

Like Clockwork.

I'd sit in the driver's seat after running the seat all the way back so I could get in the car.   Mom was a little woman and I'm quite tall. 

After cursing at the dashboard that invariably collided with my right knee, I'd start reading.  The first couple times it was with Mom looking over my shoulder giving me "help".  That didn't work and eventually I'd send her inside with instructions to "go find something to do so I can fix this blasted thing".

The book would eventually disgorge its information, and like a monk in charge of the secrets of the Lincoln, the clock would eventually be set, by me. 

Strangely enough it was never easy, and always took at least a solid 15 minutes to go through the twice yearly ritual.

That car is why I drive a Jeep.  I learned early on that one place you don't want finicky electronics that you need to learn how to use is in your car.   Key in the ignition, foot on the clutch, and turn it on.   Simpler is best when you are talking about a car.  Things don't break if they aren't there.  The current Jeep I have is 12 model years old.  The only thing I have ever replaced were the tires and the front speaker for the stereo.

American Built and 12 years old.  Nothing "broke" but that one speaker.  There really isn't much there to be broken so it's still in excellent condition.

But that car of mom's was always needing its technology fiddled with, including that blasted glowing green clock.

Twice a year I think of this and smile.  Mom's gone and so is her car.  We replaced it with a simpler car, the Mercury Sable.  She got it because she liked the light bar in the front grille.  I think she was secretly tired of that clock too because the first thing she did when she decided on the next car was to make sure she knew how to set the clock on the dashboard.  That car passed onto my sister, then onto her son Jonathan when he was old enough to drive.

I didn't have to set that clock, luckily.  My sister Pat knew how to set it.  It didn't take 2 hours round trip in Philadelphia Traffic to set a clock.  Thanks Pat.  I did appreciate that.

It's Time Change Day! Set Your Clocks Ahead An Hour

If you hadn't done it already, that is.

This clock itself hasn't been set.  It's always the last one to get it. 

Why?  It's one of those weird early 2000s Chinese imports.  The light from the digits is so bright that it shines into the bedrooms and the colon will flash on the wall, 20 feet away. 

Why weird?  The buttons aren't labeled correctly.  Press the one you expect to advance and it just knocks you into another mode.  Plus the alarm can be heard on the corner a few houses down.  Trust me on this one, it will wake you up.  It will wake your neighbors up.

Angry little clock.  Always the last one picked.  Always the last one used.

So don't make Angry Little Digital Clock Angry and remember to set your clocks ahead.

A Woman Awakes From A Coma - Humor

I have to say, some days you find humor in the oddest places.   Like here, today.  Ok, maybe not so funny but it's a short one so it won't be painful for too long.  


A Woman who is three months pregnant falls into a deep coma.  Six months later she awakes and asks the Doctor about the baby.

Doctor:  You had twins, a boy and a girl, and they are both fine.  Luckily, your brother named them for you.

Woman: Oh no, not my brother!  He's an Idiot!  What did he name the girl?

Doctor:  Denise.

Woman:  Well, that isn't so bad!  What did he call the boy?

Doctor:  Denephew.

A Prison For Plants In My Backyard

Next to the pool there is a line of pots.  In the line of pots there are plants.  Some do well, others are not very happy at all.

We've all had plants that are potbound.  Pop them out of the pot and you find a mass of roots on the outside of the ball, and the inside is fairly "empty" of roots.  Stick that into a larger pot and come back in a while, you'll find the same situation.

There's a scientific explanation for that.  The roots find the outside of the pot, sense that they can't grow any larger and limit their root growth.  Whether that means that the plant will grow more above ground is debatable.

I had that shown to me a while back.  In front of my house is a bottle brush tree.  It's slowly dying.  The inside is being eaten by termites and it won't survive.  That little island of garden around it used to have some ornamental grass that I removed.  There were too many weeds inside the grass and it was a nightmare to keep tidy. 

Finally, we got irrigation lines sent out to the island and I was able to plant some plants.   Knowing that the tree would die eventually, the first thing I wanted was a tree to replace it.  Since "Someone Up There" wanted me to have a palm tree in a specific pot, that would go there.  I couldn't kill that tree anyway, it refused to let go of the pot when I tried to pull it out.  By the time I relocated it, the "involuntary palm tree" was up to 4 feet tall and a very happy plant in a burgundy fiberglass prison.

It took a sledge hammer and a hacksaw to break that fiberglass pot.  I'll keep that in mind because they're cheap and more durable than terracotta. 

When I did finally get the root ball disconnected from the shards, I saw the same pattern.  A net of white roots around the outside of the pot, and a loose ball of soil being held together by fewer roots than I expected.

That tree is now out of the normal repotting shock and is beginning to grow in front.   Which ever bird dropped the palm nut into the pot all those months ago should be thanked, it's a rather nice palm.

We'll figure out what else to stick out there.   I have a few other plants in a prison in the backyard I can choose from.  I have my eye set on my yellow hibiscus that occasionally gets dined on by an insistent Iguana.

Don't get me started on Iguanas.  They don't belong here.

That or a cactus.  They even bloom.   Luckily they don't really need irrigation and planting low water plants is the goal.

Heating the House with Bread

As I've gotten older, I have grown intolerant.

No, not like your crazy grandpa that screams at those damn kids to get off his lawn... or worse.

I've grown intolerant of cold weather.

Moving to South Florida, it's relative, and even more annoying.

When I was going to high school, I stood out in the middle of a winter day of -4F, A.K.A "Damn Cold", in a shearling jacket and didn't feel it.

I was heavier then, I guess.  Fat insulates. 

Going through University, I managed to dump that weight and -4 was never as comfortable again. 

I would Skate my way through the 90s and 2000s eventually putting 21,000 miles on inline skates in all sorts of weather.  Even down to +20F I would be out getting a good workout - as long as I don't hit that patch of black ice on the trails at the bottom of the curve next to the river. 

But that was about as cold as I would ever want to take it.   Even the dog didn't like it below 20F so I didn't feel so bad.

Lately in my little leaky house with those little leaky windows, cold snaps give me an excuse to grouse about the weather that I didn't really have in Pennsylvania. 

On the other hand, being a pragmatic sort, I found a great way to warm the place up.

It gives me an excuse to bake bread.  Since I have a number of recipes, I've been keeping the oven busy with making rolls for sandwiches and "Swiss Rolls" of Ham and Cheese for lunches and dinners.  After all, if you have to heat the oven to 450F to get that caramel colored crust on top, it's going to make your toes toasty.

So why not be productive at the same time?   After all, it's my house and my rules, Right?

It has gotten rather reflexive.  "I'm Cold, what shall I Bake?" instead of "I'm Cold, let me press the Up Temperature Button".  My freezer is stuffed, and that's a good thing.

The last time I baked it was a recipe I shared.  The Insta White recipe that makes 10 perfectly light and "floofy" white bread rolls.   Take one of those dough balls, roll it out flat, add a couple ounces of ham and cheese and now you know what my lunch was.

Missing Vanda Found - Picture

This year, I think my second Vanda Orchid is taking a rest.

The yellow one opened a while back, bloomed beautifully for the better part of February, then wilted.  It's now resting.

I have a second one.  The plant is larger than the yellow bloomer.  You'd think that since size matters, the larger plant would be more happy.  Orchids are a finicky thing, even here in South Florida.  The conditions have to be "Just So" for them to thrive, and I guess things weren't quite optimal.

So missing my morning flower fix while looking out the window and eating my Yogurt, I thought about that plant.  It may open still, but without a flower stalk, that is doubtful.  It's late in the season for the plant where it is at.  Semi sheltered under the bougainvillea, it is also close to the house near the Lanai.  That gives it a warmer climate by a few degrees.  Since it has grown into the wood of the fence, it won't be moved.

Thinking of those flowers, I started looking through my camera's chip and found this picture.  It's going to satisfy my need for blue blossoms today.  The particular plant was found inside the butterfly house at Fairchild Botanical Gardens, a great place for beauty if ever there was one.

Bill's All You Can Fit Curry Recipe

All you can fit?
Sure.

That comes from the fact that I had so much food stuffed into the crock pot that I simply couldn't fit any more in there.  In fact, that carrot had to be left out.  I had two in there and they ended up being a pound of the stuff anyway.

Really simple recipe. The difference was that this time I didn't want to cook the rice with the curry.  That would soak up the liquid that is left in the crock pot and make a sauce.  Some like that sauce, and I do at times, but I wanted something a bit more... refined.

When I finished the cooking, there was about a pint of chicken broth with curry seasonings leftover.  I skimmed off the fat and will be using it to make rice for a different dish.

The recipe itself was quite good.  The entire dish was cooked through which was a question the entire time I made the dish.  Why?  Simply because I put in 12 chicken thighs, which is a block of semi-frozen five pounds of chicken.  That is a lot of mass to cook when you add to it the rest of the ingredients.

You can substitute Pork or a meat substitute for the Chicken if you wish, as well as swap out the thighs for chicken breasts.   Personally I think the thighs were perfect in this recipe.

Curry is one of those "experimental" recipes.  You'll never get it exactly the same twice, and that is a good thing since you really do want to have fun in the kitchen!  If it is a chore, you'll hate what you're eating.  This is trivially easy to make, I had it in the pot in about 15 minutes.

Ingredients:

• 12 chicken thighs.
• 1 cup chicken broth.
• 2 baking potatoes, 
• 1 pound carrots, 
• 1 red onion.  
• 3 tablespoons of curry powder.
• 4 ounces raisins 
• About 1/2 pound frozen chopped broccoli.

Assembly:

• To one large crock pot, add the 12 thawed chicken thighs.
• Add 1 Cup of Chicken Broth.

Mix the following ingredients in a large bowl:

• Chop the Potatoes and Carrots to a rough chop.
• Chop the Onion down to taste.  I chopped them finely.
• Add 4 ounces (or more) of raisins.
• Add some Broccoli.  I grabbed the leftover frozen broccoli, about 1/2 pound, and tossed it in.
• Add 3 Tablespoons of Curry Powder - to taste.

 Cooking Instructions:

1. Add the large bowl of vegetables to the crock pot
2. Cook on low for 8 plus hours or until done.  
3. I went for 10 hours cook time on low. 
4. Stir the mix periodically to make sure everything gets cooked evenly.
5. Serve on a bed of rice if desired.

This recipe yielded a large amount of curry that was on the edge of being peppery.   Not exactly what I would call "hot", I've had breakfast sausages that were more spicy than this dish. 

Shivering Schadenfreude It's Cold Out There!

Waking up, I reached for the tablet that does duty as my alarm clock.

Swiping in the password, I check the weather applet that shows me the current conditions.  The lights weren't on in the house yet but hearing the wind outside I knew it wasn't going to be pleasant.

The weather app said it was 42 degrees and 6:21 in the morning.

YUCK.

Gathering myself and the dog together for our morning rituals, I got clothed and then took her to the front door.

She didn't want to go outside either. 

A Mc Nab Dog is smarter than an average dog by a large margin.  She knows what she wants.  Wind Chill in the 30s is not good for 12 year old bones when you're a dog.  It took coaxing but she did finally go out and water her spot.

After the feeding regimen we went out for our walk around the block.

Reminding me of some of those delivery guys in a Northern city in the winter, I spotted him.  Bundled against the cold, I said "Nice Legs Buddy!, now where're your pants?".

Yes, even in Florida in the coldest week this winter, there is someone who insists that it is still shorts weather when they go out to walk the dog.

He laughed and we went on our way.

Getting back to the house, I had on the classical music radio station in Washington DC for a change of pace.  WETA was having their newsbreak as I was standing under the heating vent in the kitchen.  Munching my breakfast of Cream Cheese and Key Lime Curd on an English Muffin while looking out at the steam rising on the pool, I heard a forecast for Washington for the next days.

Smiling and chuckling it brought it into perspective.

Their high is our current low, 42F.

Tomorrow Night, the Northeast is having a Winter Storm Watch.  Snow and Rain in DC, Snow to the North.

Enjoy your weather up there.   We're suffering through ours.   At least it's going to help clear out some of those nasty Iguanas!

The Dumb Kid - Humor

Or is it Crazy Like a Fox?


The Dumb Kid

A young boy enters a barber shop and the barber whispers to his customer, "This is the dumbest kid in the world. Watch while I prove it to you."

The barber puts a dollar bill in one hand and two quarters in the other, then calls the boy over and asks, "Which do you want, son?"

The boy takes the quarters and leaves the dollar. "What did I tell you?" said the barber. "That kid never learns!"

Later, when the customer leaves, he sees the same young boy coming out of the ice cream store & says, "Hey, son! May I ask you a question? Why did you take the quarters instead of the dollar bill?"

The boy licked his cone and replied, "Because the day I take the dollar, the game's over!'

Elderly Lady's Shopping Trip - Humor

One day, an elderly woman was walking along the street, coming home from the supermarket. Her bag of groceries was especially heavy that day, and as she passed Nathan Hale's Used Cars, she got an idea that she could drive herself to the store and save a lot of shoe leather, time and aching muscles. She walks into the car dealership and, as it just so happens, gets the owner himself. He asks her what kind of car she wants and she replies,

"Well, sonny, I can't remember the name exactly, but it has something to do with hate or anger."

The owner replies, "Well, let's see... Oh yes, you want a Plymouth Fury! We have a couple on the lot. What color do you prefer?"

The lady has some trouble explaining the exact color to him, so she reaches into her shopping bag, takes out an ear of corn, strips down the shucks and says, "I want this color sonny."

To which Nathan replies, "Ma'am I'm sorry, but we don't have any in this color. Could I show you a nice blue one?"

"No son, I want this color."

"But ma'am, they didn't make that color! Maybe a cherry red one would suit you?" says the owner, obviously worried about losing a sale.

By this time, the old lady gets mad, and starts throwing things at the owner, thereby chasing him out of the office and into the lot. One of the salesmen, coming into the office from the back door, notices the disruption and asks the secretary what the old woman was so upset about.

The secretary replies, "Apparently, Hale hath no Fury like the woman's corn!"

Gardening with Butterflies - Picture

The picture here is another one of the Doris Longwing Butterfly that I found when in the Butterfly House at Fairchild Tropical Gardens. 

But the story isn't.

On the other hand, when did I need an excuse to post a picture of a butterfly?

It's a Butterfly and your argument is invalid.

What brought it to mind was when I was out puttering in the garden.  Early the other morning, I was out with my coffee.  Something didn't sound quite right.  It was Irrigation Day and the backyard zone was running happily.

It was a very rural sound to the place because all the sudden I had a babbling brook in the yard.

Yes, the cement had come loose on the PVC pipe that runs along the Western side of the property and I had a gusher.  Luckily this was the hedge and the day after a massive rain.  I probably shouldn't have been watering that zone that day but wanted to make sure it all worked.

Clearly the rain sensor did work because the front yard didn't get watered.  Oooh!  New Toy!  Flip the switch and I am the Guardian of all Waters!

Walking to the Jasmine hedge, I found the break in the pipe and forced them close enough that the water wasn't getting wasted.

The entire time when I was bent double, getting a ground water shower, I was being pestered.  Yes, my friends the Monarch Butterflies came back.  They were hovering around me trying to land somewhere and I was worried that they were going to get harmed while I was banging around underneath the wall of green.

All was well, I became an Aircraft Carrier for a few of the little orange and black beauties and patched things up.

So why the music video?  The last two days, I had this song stuck in my head.  Chaka Khan.  Chanson Papillon... Hot! Butterflies!

You don't need an excuse, enjoy the music and the picture. 

Happy Fluttery Friday!