FAMILY TIME

Family Time is a lot different these days than it used to be, if there is any at all.    Foremost in my memory are the many MONOPOLY games we played to pass the time during a storm  during our quality family time.
My father was usually out to sea, in more ways than one my mother always added with a smirk, hence our group consisted of five women.  My grandfather always stayed 'home to watch the store' never trusting dangerous electricity nor heavy snow on the roof during 'snowed in' New Hampshire winters.   He was also the only one who could cook as my grandmother had the old porcelain gas stove she was deathly afraid to fire off.     But none of us were into cooking then anyway.

If we weren't workin'....

 

We were either into the sports or board games.

My sister's first job at 10, delivering developed film.



Monopoly was the fave.With five women that happen to all be related, you end up with a lot of bizarre debate time added to the length of an already lengthy game. Straight out of the box would be the grab for the favorite playing piece. My sister always wanted the race car to "speed her to the winning finish line." She was, even then, the queen of puns.

Since they are all gone now , and my son is busy trying to amass his fortune, there is only my daughter and I left to continue the tradition of good ole' quality family time.  We decided to combine it with volunteering for the general good, and made it through the certification for the Citizens Emergency Response Team in 20 weeks of some pretty strange training, along with four required FEMA written exams we needed to pass or flunk out of the whole shebang.  We passed.

 

We got some stuff we thought we would need thanks to the hurricane we volleyed for before we were through the class.

 

 

 

And waited.  And waited some more.  Though there were many threats of dangerous storms headed our way, each time we waited with baited breath hovering over our "bug out" bags, nothing happened.  Which was good for the general public but did nothing for our spending any fun time together.

 

 

THEN IT HAPPENED.

 

Another town's Emergency Management Division called for volunteers to ..... wait for it..... assist with traffic control for the Holiday Parade.      Well, it wasn't exactly an Alberta Clipper but we needed to break our boots in.   Not sure why but we were assigned to the cool job.   I drove the truck to the parade venue with the daughter, which also happened to be the best viewing area for the parade and basically no traffic. 

 

 

 

Here I stand.

 

Here I am with the truck. (which by the way needs a lot of maintenance ....)

 

My daughter is extremely bored by this time and the parade hasn't even started.

 

So she kept snapping pictures.....

 

There was a police car positioned directly down the street from us sideways in order not to interfere with the floats that needed to go around the parade venue.   While my daughter and I were snapping pictures for lack of anything substantive to do we noticed that certain police car had now turned 180 degrees, it's headlights facing us.  My daughter said, "Wonder if he is moving the car."   To which I replied, "Nah, he saw the couple of loons down here takin' pictures of each other in every pose imaginable, moved to face us and get our antics on video. Probably take it back to the station and laugh hysterically while they do hilarious re-mixes....."  I worked in that field too long and know that sick humor all too well.     :}

 

 

Yep...  still no traffic...... 

 

UNTIL.....  The supervisor in charge of the volunteers swung around in his Bronco, and asked one of us to go help the cop at the top of the hill who was attempting to direct a busy detour at a ... wait for it... five way intersection.  Well  I had done that once years ago alone so I figured it was a primo assignment.

 

 

Off I trudged up the hill to the intersection.

 

Well I got three streets to direct while the cop did two, which would have been okay as one of the streets I had was for emergency vehicles only, but it just so happened though the sun was setting behind me,  the city fathers had apparently had grandiose ideas and put a 15 foot shiny steel arch in front of city hall, the direction I had to face to watch the cop tell me when to let my lines go, and also reflected the sun off the arch directly into my eyes.   Have I failed to mention it was 17 degrees, luckily no wind, when the sun was shining....

 

It was an enormous parade and despite the hoards of people we were rerouting I did manage to get one picture of the best float EVER.

 

 

 

By the end of the five hour deal I was frozen solid when I spotted the truck coming up the road with my daughter driving.   "How was it?" she said.  "The usual constant traffic - arm waving thing and I am frozen.  How was your end."

 

 

"Oh,  I sat in the truck with the heat on and watched the whole parade, it was great."

 

 

I let her drive the truck back to the garage.

 

 

:}

 

 

 

 

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING !

YEP,

dang computer is finally up and running....   Turns out it was never repaired properly to begin with ...



SHE'S BAAAAAAAAACK!!!

Cannot wait to get back in the fray, I'll be visiting my faves soon.  Phew.  

                                                             :}

REMEMBER THEM

RUBBERNECKING......

Since it is far too cold to start workin' in the yard...

 

Last evenings fire

Westerly, R.I.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then over to Misquamicut Beach

 

 

 



 To see how the clean-Up from Hurricane Sandy is going....

 

No, this isn't Egypt, and those aren't pyramids...

 

Its all the sand that washed from the beach onto the main road, covering the road and taking out more than a few summer homes in the process.  Keeping in mind most of the "homes" were not merely summer cottages but McMansions....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hmmmmm, where was this house......

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY DAD

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

 

I HAVE THE MOST AWESOME VET......

And I'm not talkin' about the car variety!

Poor Precious has had a skin problem for the past month, much to his dismay and growing dread of being shoved ( as opposed to casually walking ) into his cat carrier.  Oh the first time was ducky.  I don't have a clue why he didn't even blink an eye during the 45 minute car ride to the veterinarian's office.  After the second ride things got dicey.

While there in the waiting room he got to visit  through his carrier door with the two  "Hospital Cats" that greet everyone that comes through the door.  One is all black and has the feral 'notch' in his ear.   Which just goes to show that even though a cat may be feral starting out, they really just need to be in a safe place with loving humans.  The other has such horrible allergies she has to have shots all the  time, her nose runs, she sneezes  and her eyes are always swollen and runny, but she doesn't let feeling miserable like that all the time affect her pleasant disposition, nor the concern she shows when any animal is in the waiting room showing obvious signs of distress.

Well by the third time in as many weeks that Precious had to return to the vet for another antibiotic shot my son and I walked in to see this on one of the benches, on his own little bed.

 

He didn't look really happy to see us so we asked before sitting on the other end of his bench.

The receptionist then told us "Harvey's" story.  

 

First of all, Harvey is extremely small for his age, and not due to the circumstance of his unfortunate expression.  He is about a year old and all of two pounds, with  an hilariously loooooong tail.   When he was around six months old a large and very ornery raccoon decided to try to eat Harvey, who fought like a trooper, managed to get away, but showed up on a door step with half his face missing and screaming for help.

 

I cannot even imagine the extent of the emergency surgery to save poor Harvey, but the reconstructive surgery as well that enables him to eat, and breathe.  One actually hears  him before seeing him, much like those little pug dogs.    Harvey made it through all the surgery and accompanying anesthetics despite his diminutive stature.

Despite his horrific experience, he is one of the most loving and compassionate cats I will ever meet. 

 

Precious had been yowling for the entire car ride, knowing yet another really quite quick, and not too painful shot in his shoulder was included in the not-fun-anymore ride.   He howled louder the entire time my son and I were trying to listen to Harvey's story. What we failed to notice

, so horrified were we by THE ATTACK ON HARVEY, was that at some point Precious had stopped howling.

 

At the end of the stomach churning tale we turned to check on Precious, and there was Harvey at the cat carrier door, with one teeny paw resting in the door, with Precious on the other side, both nose to nose. Precious was actually relaxing.  Harvey is a miracle in more ways than one, for while sitting on the bench next to them both I had to reflect on one of my mother's most important pieces of advice.  "Always look at the inside first, aesthetics don't matter if there is no compassionate soul holding it together."     At first both my son and I had thought Harvey was not a happy camper and way beyond unfriendly simply because of his expression.

 

Once he had calmed Precious down he sat on our laps and snuffled trying to purr rolling around on our laps until the receptionist crumpled a piece of paper, automatically chucking it on the floor.  Harvey has his humans trained.  They are conditioned to automatically throw the crumpled paper on the floor, as the minute he hears the paper begin to crumple he is up and running.  The receptionist is one we had not met before (which is incredible considering the amount of time we spend there....  *sigh*) but the second she chucked the paper she started apologizing saying they can't disappoint Harvey so they just wait until he is done chasing the paper ball around then they pick it up  (Classical Conditioning at its best, way to go Harvey ).

 

Harvey served to remind me there should be no such word as ugly.

 

Of course when it was Precious's turn to go into the examining room, he started his screaming like a little girl again while we were trying to convince him this was not a Poe novel nor would he end up on The Rack.  The other two hospital cats were following, they too feel compassion in the wake of distress, but when we arrived in the room we were greeted by this...

 

 

Harvey knew which room we were headed for and made it there ahead of us waiting on the floor.  The minute we put Precious on the bench (gaud forbid we give him a heart attack by putting him on the aluminum examining table two seconds longer than he absolutely needs to be there...) Harvey was up on the bench with his teeny paw through the carrier door again communing with Precious.  And sure enough. Precious stopped howling. Needless to say I was in love and hoping our vet would say that yes, Harvey had his forever home in the hospital, and when she did, relief flooded over me.  He will need special care, and special food, well, special  everything  for the rest of his life, and they will provide it, while Harvey provides proof that no matter how hard the struggle, no matter how much it hurts, with love everything is possible.    With that, I end with the best photo my son took with his phone.

 

 

 

:}

 

 

 I