OK, I know, this is ALL old stuff.  But there are SOME people that like to read down memory lane.

I wrote this stuff as a connection with the world we left behind during our Adventure to Nowhere, and I think that it helped us to return to a normal life.    We heard that some people would print out the week's messages and then on Sunday mornings my stories would be read out loud.  

Other people would read these at work, presumably while they were being paid to work.

If you would like to travel along with us, go to the list of dates in the menu on the right and choose the oldest date on the bottom.  Then work up to the point that we returned to New England.

I have a lot of old notes from that trip and I may use a few of these stories in conpilation of short stories, because I would like the better ones to be consolidated from the hundreds of places that I stashed my missives through the years.  If I found a spot where my writing could be presented for FREE, then I put something there.  I wish I kept a list.  

So there are MANY things to read.  If the post that you are reading is about someone dying and you aren't in the mood, skip on to another one.  I tried to have a lot of variety.  I have not read most of these things since I wrote them, so now that I am starting to consolidate, I hope that I still think that they are pixel worthy on your screen.

So The Adventure can be found here at BethAndWarren.com

My RANDOM stories that are unrelated to each other can be found at confabulators.xyz

There are a couple of other domains that I will pull stuff from.

Marmon41.com has been closed because it was so large that it cost me money every month, and when our family car moved on to its current caretaker, it was time to retire it.

Ignore the notes about "Click a Star so I know you are reading this" and "Leave a comment".  
Those features have been turned off because they need constant maintenance.

Poke around and see what you can find.  (ww, 2025-03-10)

One last candle.

This post has been moved to Confabulators.xyz because it really didn't belong here.

Go ahead and click HERE if you haven't already slammed over there,

Photos that I could find quickly...

And then there were two...

This post has been moved to Confabulators.info because it really didn't belong here.

Click HERE if you want to read this story.

A nondescript town...

Pete the tour guide.

Yesterday at a party some folks were talking about this post.

This is the only one that I had deleted due to a complaint. I am re-posting it because the person that sort-of complained is no longer reading this blog. Of course, since I haven't posted anything here for a year, nobody else is reading it either.

I am posting this for the folks at that party.

Now I will be able to read it too!

Pete the tour guide.

The eight of us had just finished a very nice meal and Beth and I were settling in for a nice evening of laughs and chatting. Well it turned out that the party was going out on the town. Beth and I had to make a decision --- now. We wanted to go back to our motel room because we were a little low on energy, but we thought that we could handle a short tour. Beth wanted to ride in our own car because we expected that we weren't going to be staying out as late as everyone else. Everybody was heading to the cars before we knew what was going on. Everybody was in a hurry.

I offered to give a ride to someone that had already had quite a bit to drink, and we were going to walk down the road to where our car was parked, and then Beth, “Pete”, and I were going to ride to the place together in our van, we would hang out for a while with the others, and then Pete would come home early with Beth and I.

While I was waiting for Pete to find his shoes, Beth took the opportunity to hitch a ride to our car from another couple because Beth had the wrong shoes on for a comfy walk. She would get her other shoes and we would pick her up and go meet the others. That was the NEW plan.

Pete came out but didn't want to walk down the road to our van, so he suggested that we take one of the Hummers. OK, that will fit into the plan, let's go pick up Beth.

The motel room was dark and Beth wasn't in the van. I went into the motel room and yoohoo'd...

Nothing.

It seems that Beth had gotten into Lenny and Ginny's car for the short ride to our car.

Lenny is a person that we had recently met that could be the poster boy for the Asperger's Association of America.

Lenny means well, and is a very nice person, but has never learned how to listen to what other people say. Every “conversation” is one-way. We have known Ginny for years, we have just met her new boyfriend Lenny. Well Beth is in the backseat of these two friends. Lenny is driving. Ginny is being quiet as usual so she can stay below the radar. Beth keeps trying to cut into Lenny's “conversation” (with the dashboard, it seems) so that she could remind Lenny that she was getting out at our motel to pick up our car and some different shoes, but it was too late. The mouth was accelerating and so was the car.

Beth started modifying her plan to include the uncomfortable shoes, no pocketbook, no money, no van, and no Warren. He will catch up.

Warren and Pete back in the Hummer: I drive to the crossroads and asked Pete “left or right?”.

Pete says “I don't know”.

“Whaddyamean you DON'T know?” “You live here, where are they all going?”

“I don't know.”

The plan starts falling apart. “You don't know where they are going? Do you have your phone?”

“Nope.”

“I'm going back to get mine.”

“Noooooo no noooooo, we don't need it, I'll take you to where they are, just turn right.”

“Are you sure?” ... “??????” ... “??????????”

“Yes! Turn right!”

I start driving while trying to remember what my plan was so that I could start deconstructing it.”

Pete tells me that anyplace we go in this town we will be treated like royalty.

“They all know me --- turn in here --- let's go in here --- last time I went in here somebody clocked me with a board across the back of my head. Never did figure out who it was...”

While my mind was grinding that little nugget up, I couldn't shake the picture of the Queen of England trying to avoid having a board knock off her jeweled crown as she entered this friendly establishment.

I noted out loud that I didn't recognize any of the cars in the parking lot.

“Well that's no problem, they'll end up here.” “I guarantee that they'll end up here!”

Pete continued, “They'll start at The Old Fart Lodge, and then go to The Working Bar, and then go to Stinky's Man Cave, and then they'll end up here at Badger's Sing-a-long.” We'll just start here, have a few beers and go the other way and we'll probably bump into them!” He said proudly.

I asked Pete if he has actually EVER been successful with a plan like this?

Please note that I had not had anything to drink, and I had now revised my plans so that I would be drinking water ALL night long, and there was the possibility that it was going to be a very long night.

Anyhow, Pete didn't answer...

I asked him again...

“Has a plan this dopey EVER worked for you before?”

I felt that the evening's plans were still being rewritten.

Pete dropped the bomb: “What? You want to actually FIND them?”

“I thought we would just hang out together tonight, I mean jeeesh, you've been together for FIVE-THOUSAND-Miles, aren't you tired of being together yet???”

“I thought we'd have a Man's night. You know, have some drinks and meet them back home.”

Now I knew that Beth would never be able to get Lenny to stop talking long enough to hear her pleas to go home when she was tired, and Lenny certainly wouldn't notice if she had fallen asleep somewhere, so I KNEW that I had to find Beth. She would be fine for a while, but once she got sleepy Lenny would lose her like a set of car keys.

We forged on. I decided to skip right ahead to the top of Pete's theoretical order of bar-hopping.

With Pete's help I was able to drive the Hummer right to the place on the first try. Pete seemed to be doing OK. He still wanted to go play but he knew i wanted to collect Beth first, for some reason.

We pulled up to the Old Farts Lodge and Pete wouldn't get out of the car. He said “that place is only for OLD people, they won't be in there. I'll wait here.”

I took the keys and walked the ten feet to the front door. I looked in. There was no way they would be there, one couple was waltzing and everybody else was sucking on oxygen.

Then over in the corner, there they were, looking like teenagers at a grownup's restaurant. I popped out, got Pete and in we went.

It was interesting, no it wasn't, it was pretty boring. I hung onto Beth. Before long the band had to get back to the home, so it was decided that we were all going to go down the street to the Working Man's Bar (I realized that Pete really did understand how things worked around here).

Everybody walked except me and Pete. He wanted to ride there in the Hummer, but I kept my eye on Beth as we relocated.

This bar had a folk-rock-angst band and a lot of incredibly drunk young girls.

I was enjoying the band but eventually two of the ladies in our group were tired and were going to go home. They hugged Pete, Beth, and I goodbye. They couldn't say goodbye to Lenny and Ginny because they had disappeared without telling anyone. We found out the next morning that they had migrated through Stinky's and ended up at Badger's Sing-a-long and had a very good time until closing. They had forgotten to tell anyone they were leaving. They probably had forgotten that they were even WITH anyone.

Back at the Working Man's Bar, Beth and I had to try to pry Pete off of his bar stool. When Beth and I were busy with goodbyes and making plans to meet again, Pete had stealthily tiptoed away from the table and was now firmly planted at the bar and was buying a round for everyone.

Beth told Pete that she was tired.

He said “OK, one more drink...”. After years of experience, Beth knew what that meant.

So she stood there.

Pete said “are you gonna stand there and watch me like my grandmother?”

Beth said “YES!”

After a while it became clear that it was Pete who had to change his plans.

Beth and I rushed Pete past the bouncer (because Pete felt some sort of urge to start a fight with him) and across to the Hummer, and we headed home with Pete telling us story after story. They were pretty good stories. I came to an intersection that kinda looked familiar, “Pete! Do I turn here?”

“Sure! Why not?!”

We drove until we got to a restaurant that I recognized, that I KNEW was way past Pete's place.

“Pete! We missed your driveway! Where IS it?”

“I don't know. I usually get home before it's dark out.” (I wasn't sure whether he was talking about the absence of sunlight or some kind of Pete-consciousness.)

So we had to slowly drive along the road with the flashers on so that Pete could find where his housing development was. Beth and I finally found it. Almost there. You can't see any of the houses from the road, just long winding asphalt driveways, which we found all looked exactly the same to Pete (after darkness sets in). It took a couple of false turns but we eventually got back. We dropped Pete off. After 15 minutes I gave up trying to get him to go into his house, and so I just left him playing with his dogs in the yard while Beth and I went back to our motel room.

Just as we had originally planned.

All of the names of everybody in this story (except for Beth) have been changed.

The conversations were not changed. Our plans were changed.

---------- for the curious ---------------

Information about Aspergers Syndrome.

What is Aspergers Disorder

Wierd Not Stupid

Wrong Planet.net, a site for people with Aspergers.

Countdown to th....

We have found an apartment in downtown Keene NH.
We are both working, we are NOT traveling. The Adventure is done and now I am just facing the usual craziness of day to day living which severely limits my story possibilities.

During the Adventure I wrote a lot of stories about people. Strangers, people that I had just met, people that I saw from a distance and never quite met. People that I would have liked to meet.
I could write about these people without them being insulted because of the simple fact that they were NOT going to read this blog. Many times I would give them my calling card with the address of this site and suggest that if they wanted to read about whatever had just happened they should look it up. I would go with the assumption that they would never look it up and so I could write about them without embarrassing them. Of course, I have always tried to be nice, and I only had to remove one post through the entire trip, but writing about people that I am going to be seeing next Thursday and again the following Tuesday would affect what I may write, and I imagine would affect how my friends behave around me.

So anyhow, I won't be writing about all of the wonderful people that I am meeting every day because I will not be meeting that many new people. In fact I will be meeting very few new people.

Now the good news is that I have started writing a lot more lately. I went through a real dry period for a while but for the last month or so I have been writing chapters for my novel.
I haven't figured out the entire story line but the bits and pieces are shaping up. I also joined the local writer's group, but they only meet once a month.

Last week I had to write a post about our buddy Cris losing her battle with cancer. I have to write when I get emotional. It helps me even if I don't come to any clear-cut conclusion in my writing. Venting. Sorting things out.

What surprised me was that there are still some people that check in.
I still cannot tell how many folks are reading the page versus the HIT count. The HIT count includes all of the folks that get here by mistake and don't actually read anything.
My next site will have to include a simple check box to mark if you have read the post.
People don't enjoy rating an article because they don't want to be insulting. A thumbs up will do it. I'll avoid the whole up/down dilemma by maybe displaying a sideways thumb.

The question is what to call my site. My site that will be full of little stories that are not about new people that I just met. OK, maybe it won't be FULL of little stories, but there will be SOME stories. Real good ones. I think.

I don't know what to call it. "I.am.they" sounds a little pompous (even though I AM They).
"Gruntled" is already taken.
http://ChromiumCrustacean.com is too difficult to spell.
http://WarrenW.com is a little too personal.
http://warrenwitherell.com is more of the same.
http://peakpeeker.com is planned for a project that I am going to do some day.
http://derekforreal.com has already done more than enough and deserves to be retired.

Still thinking...

and another life begins...

Cousin Nancy & Tom are grandparents!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: Elliot Arthur C.
October 29, 2008

For the grandparents -- your first baby picture to email around!

Born this morning at 4:01 am, weighing 5 lbs and 14 ounces. J. is resting comfortably at Holy Cross and we are up for visitors.  More pictures and info to follow.

The miracle of Cris...

We just said goodbye to our friend Cris.  

Cris has always hated goodbyes and so every time we have visited her or she visits us there is always that dreaded time to say goodbye when Cris cries like she is never going to see Beth again and then Beth gets weepy and then I have to find something to distract me, like starting the car and adjusting the mirrors because I can't seem to talk at that moment.  It is always difficult because we leave Cris with tears running down her cheeks as she waves with her big toothy smile and her eyes squinted shut like she does whenever her smile is bursting out.

On Wednesday we said our goodbyes in an entirely different way.

Cris' eyes were dry and wide-eyed.  She was calm as we kissed and said thank you to each other.

Normally when we leave we always thanked her for the good time we had during the visit, but on this three day visit, we really were not having fun, and when we were thanking Cris on our way out, we were thanking her for the friendship we shared for the last 33 years or so.  

We will never see Cris again and we are going to miss her so terribly.  

She has lost her battle with Cancer and is just "waiting for the miracle".

Up until recently she seemed to think that the miracle would be to wake up one day and be healthy and energized again but I feel that she might finally have realized that the "miracle" that she has been waiting for is the gift of peace.  She has finished her work, it is time to rest.  She will be remembered fondly by all those that knew her, her laughter, her caring, her laughter, her mothering, and her laughter.  Cris loved to laugh.  She made other people laugh.  

I was sorry to hear Cris say that she was scared of death and we tried to make her feel better by reminding her that both of her parents and Derek had already done it and we haven't heard any regrets from them.  It is a natural process that is something to be looked forward to.  The timing isn't always exactly when you planned, but it is better to be early than late, which goes against Cris' entire "if I am not very late, I am waaaay too early" philosophy of scheduling.

Cris is always late for everything.  Everybody lies to her about the time of an appointment and she STILL will be very late.  Cris did not like to have other people drive her places because she might get there early which really irritated her.  I remember taking Cris and Beth to the airport once many years ago.  I was worried that we were running late because there was only twenty minutes to go before the flight when we pulled up to the sidewalk but Cris surprised me with a hissy fit "I knew we would get here too early! NOW what are we going to do for twenty whole minutes!".  I couldn't stop chuckling for a week.

This was the only flight that Beth took with Cris that the plane's door wasn't held open by a stewardess as they ran to the plane and slammed shut behind them.  Cris could never see the point of sitting on a plane waiting for other people to board, there were too many things to do.

If you flew with Cris you had to wear shoes that were good for running.

A few weeks ago Beth met Cris, Louise (Cris' sister), Rachel (Cris' daughter), and Jeanne (Cris' bestest Florida friend) in Sedona Arizona for a "going away" vacation.  They shared a lot of tears and visited the Grand Canyon in a limousine that came with a tour guide (the cost of the limousine and guide, the hotel expenses, and Cris' plane tickets was a gift from her many friends in Florida).  It was a wonderful way to spend your final vacation and Cris has since decided that she would like her ashes to be placed in Sedona.  

The three or four of you that read this blog probably remember Cris from occasional visits to the Annual4th parties.    Cris and Beth first met when they started working at the Foxboro Company on the same day in the mid 70's.  They quickly became friends and made arrangements for the "guys" to meet.  There were a lot of warnings and disclaimers to try to pre-apologize for each other's guy and what they may say or do while out in public, but I got along great with Dan S the first time we met, and between the good food, drinking, and constant laughing, the four of us couldn't help but become very close friends.

Eventually Beth and I had to move to New York so we moved there via a three day visit at the annual blue grass festival that Cris, Dan, Beth, and I went to every year.  The same festival that we met Jeff R at.  Dan and Cris had "the Peanut", one of those impossibly little round campers that was handy to hide in when security came around to check our wristbands.

Cris eventually drifted off to Florida searching for the unknown and settled in Clearwater, got married to Rick Gard and had a cute baby named Rachel.  Rick works on huge construction projects that take two to ten years each, so Rick would only be home a couple of weekends a month.  

Rick told me that he was looking for two qualities in a woman.  She had to be strong because he would never be home, and she had to be a good mother.  Cris was both.  They didn't always get along but she was very very strong and independent, and she was a great mother.  Rachel is a happy beautiful girl in her early twenties, Cris has a multitude of friends in Florida, and Rick takes a leave of absence from work when Cris needs help to battle her cancer.   He is taking VERY good care of her, being very patient and strong when she needs it the most.

Cris liked being good friends with guys but never really liked being a "wife".

If Cris ever felt that there was a chance of being forced to conform, even if she wasn't but Cris suspected that others just may expect it of her, she would rebel.  Above all, Cris was a rebel.   

Her rebel instincts would sometimes cause her to make decisions that she would later regret.  She would admit to Beth and I that a mistake had been made as she told us about some event, but she would never even consider backing down.  She was a stubborn cuss.  If she had committed to something that she knew wasn't going well, she would see it through to the end.

Cris loved to perform in plays and she loved to dance to bad music.  That thumping dance beat music that has always been lurking around, will continue to be produced, and will be played by radio stations with "kiss" in their tag line.  I would be shaking my head in disbelief that anyone could like this stuff and I would look at Cris and she would have her eyes closed, her teeth displayed like a peacock and she would be bouncing with the beat.

Cris loved good food.  She was a great cook and loved eating.  

Cris loved to take naps.  I always enjoyed visiting Cris because a group nap was always involved.

Taking a nap in the same room with someone has always been quality time for me.

Cris loved parties.  Especially costume parties.  I think there are pictures on this blog from last year's Halloween party .  

Beth had been on the phone with Cris constantly until a little while ago when Cris would sometimes be too tired to talk.  Cris not talking on the phone, that was heartbreaking.

Fortunately she is still talking, she just isn't long winded.

She has not eaten in many weeks, so is very thin.

She is still able to smile when asked and she is still in command.

Louise is staying there for a while so that she can tag-team with Rick for trips to the store.

If you would like Cris' contact info, just let me know.

We are really going to miss Cris, she is such a good friend.  A Rebel, a mother, a friend.

Beth's bestest buddy.

I am praying that the miracle comes soon.

A week in Hell

Beth and I went to Bowman's beach a few days ago and this young woman sat down in a large pile of shells right behind us to start playing.  Sanibel has truckloads of shells washed up on shore every day.  There are more than anyone could imagine.  This island is known as a shell collector's mecca.

This woman was thrilled with the shells.  I commented to Beth that she reminded me of a teeny bopper sitting on the floor with all of her 45's strewn around her.  Beth said that she agreed, that woman DID look like little Bethy did at thirteen years old.

I went off into the water to collect some Lightning Welks, Lettered Olives, Flame Augers, and Lace Murex.  During my hunting expedition the couple behind Beth left the beach.  Beth said that the woman didn't want to go, but the guy left for the car and she eventually followed.

Five hours later Leslie, Beth, and I were walking along our beach when I noticed a pretty thin woman with little shorts standing at the edge of the surf excitedly cupping two hands worth of shells and letting the sand and water fall out while wiggling her fingers to filter the "perfect shell" from the rest.  It is a common technique around here.  

There is the "Sanibel Stoop" which is walking along with your head hanging forward scanning the sand and holding a plastic supermarket bag in one hand.  People are in such a trance looking at the dazzling array of shells under their feet that we have seen porpoises swimming right offshore from a "sheller" and they never even notice.

There are the petite collectors, that walk with a black plastic bag from a jewelry store and only select the finest of the finest.

I myself use the harvesting technique.  My pockets bulge out like the cheeks of a chipmunk from all of the shells that Beth and I put in them.  They get  sorted later.

This excited young woman was using the "lift and filter" technique.  If you stand in one spot, enough shells are removed and deposited at your feet with every wave that you can bend over and pick up another fresh batch every ten seconds or so.

This woman was going to check out every batch.  She seemed a little too excited.

She would jump up and down while waiting for the shells to expose themselves, then she would dump out what was left in her hands and scoop up another batch, hold them up at eye level and bounce in anticipation.

Her guy was trying to distract her so that they could move on.  It wasn't going to happen.

She was going to be planted there until the ocean stopped giving her shells.

If he tried to get too close to her to convince her to move on, she would move her arms out in the universal "keep away, I am busy" sign language, and then bend over and scoop.  She would attempt to get him to help find "the perfect shell" and he would look around a little and then go back to staring at the horizon.  This was a busy day on the beach so there were people walking by finishing up their beach combing before the spectacular sunset would signal the official end of shelling for the day.  This guy was going to be there for a while.

When I went by him the second time he was staring at the horizon and clenching his teeth.  He did not seem like he was having a good time at all.  The waves were splashing his knees while his very cute lady was almost hysterical at the joy of shell shopping.

Don't ever ever bring your O.C.D. girlfriend/wife to a beach that is known for shelling.

Much later as the sun was going down, you could see her silhouette far away, bending over, hold em' up, bending over.

Can you imagine him describing his vacation to people at work when they ask if he had a good time?  "Yeah everything was fine until she found the freakin' shells!"  

"All week long, those freeeeeakin' shells!"

Where to vote.

Television stations don't really put a lot of effort into public service announcements because they just don't seem to make any profit on them.

In Florida they start two weeks early with "Early Voting" which is a system that they use down here because there are just so many registered voters and so few residents who can count, and from what I understand, it really frees up the pressure on election day.  

At a friends house, I saw a silent Public Service Announcement displayed between commercials that listed voting locations (any time the TV stops barking at me, it gets my attention).  My favorite was a polling place that could be easily found because it was across the street from the "Quaker Steak Lube".

OK, I am not eligible to vote in Florida, but I drool like Pavlov's old Harley every time I think of that retaurant and what the after effects might be.

The Safety Flag

We pulled up to the PB&J before heading up the hill.

There was the usual assortment of vehicles at random angles in front of the store. I was stopping for milk but the bulk of sales at the PB&J is beer. Milk was the “convenience” at this store, beer is a “necessity”.
...”Honey, I'm just running down to the necessity store for my beer, smokes, and lottery tickets, do you need some milk while I'm there?”

As I walked from our car there was a pickup truck loaded down with pieces of a telephone pole in front of me. The pole was quite a score. It had been violently snapped into at least two pieces and then the remaining parts had been cut into ten foot lengths which hung out of the back of the truck at awkward angles.
The unshaven passenger slumped down in the cab looked really pleased with his awesome load of extremely toxic firewood that was free free free.

What stopped me in my tracks was the warning flag that was affixed to the end of this very long load.

In accordance with New Hampshire state law, loads that extend beyond the taillights must be marked with a red flag to avoid having a tailgater being skewered.

Now these two future firewood barons had probably come across this stash of insect-proofed lifetime-guaranteed firewood right there on the side of the road just waiting for harvesting at the peak of perfection. After their truck had been loaded to approximately 230% of it's maximum load capacity these two guys realized that they need to find a flag to avoid breaking the law.

Time for some Yankee Ingenuity. It seems that there is a new variety of Budweiser called “Select” that comes in bright RED 16 ounce cans.

Are you aware that stomping on an empty can of Budweiser “Select” creates a very serviceable red flag that can be nailed to your load to satisfy the letter of the law while simultaneously “red flagging” local law enforcement? Try it for yourself.

As I was chuckling to myself I saw the driver of the truck happily bouncing down the front steps of the PB&J with, you guessed it, a six-pack of “Select”.

Two quick pops of beer cans, the engine fires up, a quick U-turn and off go two of the happiest lumberjacks you've ever seen.

Maybe the cop that was on duty that day had his radio turned up loud enough so that he couldn't hear the “RED flag” clanking in the wind.

“Hey man, like, how did that cop know that we were drinking?”

A teenager hanging around the fire.

View Album

Get your own

Pacing around in the lobby of the maternity ward

Beth and I moved back to the Hamster Ranch last Monday because Mama was going to let go "at any time" and we were going to take the pictures of the event.
Monday: it was hot and nothing happened.
Tuesday: it was even hotter and nothing happened.
Wednesday: things were calm (and hot) until evening and then "the storm" moved in. First the wind came. Amazing. The porch light was on and we see this fine mist blowing sideways past the door. I stuck my hand out and it didn't get wet... it was a fog of pollen. Beth stuck her head out to see where it was all coming from and instantly realized her mistake. Her eyeball was instantly coated with pollen and she bent over and started blinking and rubbing her eyes frantically while I looked over my shoulders to make sure that there wasn't a herd of bees zooming in for a free meal.

Then the lightning came. Oh yeah, then there was the gush of water. This wasn't just "precipitation", this was a wall of water that would have set off alarms if we were sitting in a submarine at the moment. Lots and lots of water. Ooooh look, one of the guests for the B&B is coming up the driveway. I hope she can find the door because I would rather not run out there.
But wait! Carl realizes that the door was open on the camper so that it could air out and Carl knows that this wind was going to rip the door right off. So he got out of bed, pulled on his pants and scurried out into the darkness.
The guest splashed through the door and dumped one load of luggage and then splashed out again, when she came back in she was still standing in the doorway marveling at the weather when out of the darkness popped Carl. An eighty year old man dressed like one of the guys from the Chippendales, barefoot, jeans, red suspenders, and absolutely no shirt. Fortunately he also forgot his glasses and hearing aids so he wasn't aware that he had popped out of nowhere and had scared our guest so badly that the storm suddenly seemed trivial. Carl wasn't aware that the person that he was stepping by on his way back to bed was somebody that didn't know him, and he really didn't care, he was going to bed. Noel told our guest Enid that "That's Carl, he lives here" and left it at that. Enid told us about how she had made it up the hill before everything had let loose and was glad to be here even with the "all male revue" part of our little B&B. I would like to note that I was wearing most of my clothes at the time. I was pretty proud of that.

We all settled down to watch a movie and the lightning was still zapping around. I spent a lot of time out in the glass room enjoying the light show, and Beth was in her room reading. I came in to sit back down on the couch and Barnum had taken my spot (Barnum is the farm manager disguised as an orange tabby), well I was bending over to negotiate with the cat when lightning hit a tree right behind the house. Barnum's eyes opened up to the size of.... wait a minute... did I already write about this? wait here, I've got to check something...
.
.
OK, I'm back, Yep! I had already written about the lightning strike. Sorry. Well anyhoo, I hadn't told you about Carl the male dancer or Enid, so there you go.
Anyhow, as I was saying, Leslie was on her way with proper eatin' supplies and we partook (which is the past tense of partaken) of strawberry shortcake ice cream and anything else that we could shovel in. After a lot of chatting tweaked the lighting for the Barn-O-Cam so Noel would have a good view of the Mother to be if things started to happen.
Leslie, Enid, Noel, Beth and I all went to bed. Carl had been sleeping a while and Barnum wasn't going to be sleeping for quite a while if his wide eyes were any indication.

Ten minutes after we were in bed Noel let out the alarm. "It's happening, lets go!"
We all jumped up and pulled on our stuff and headed out to the barn.
Mama was laying down but jumped up as soon as our large crowd stumbled into the "viewing area". We backed out of the barn and stayed as quiet as we could while we waited for Mama to feel safe enough to proceed. We slowly stepped in to sneak peeks. While Mama paced around I ran up to Noel's bedroom and turned on the VCR to record everything. When I got back down to the barn I started taking some pictures.
There was a splash that was similar to the deluge that happened earlier in the evening and we knew that her water had just broken. [insert scratch and sniff sample here]

My camera is lousy in dim light so I wasn't expecting much.

Then through the viewfinder I saw a large white egg where an egg wasn't supposed to be.
I dropped my camera to see what I had been looking at and quickly wished I hadn't.
I went out of the barn and told Beth that she should get back in there so that one of us was going to see this in all of it's grand lubricity.
Beth trotted in and I tiptoed carefully.
Mama dropped to the floor right against the wall that the camera was mounted on so that she could assure her privacy and avoid the paparazzi. Noel went in to see if she could help. Mama looked back at Noel with a "let's get this over with" look and started to push. Five seconds later Noel called for Beth to help and of course, Beth was all too glad to dive into the activity. I was attempting to take photos while Noel is barking out commands to Beth "grab there, move this, now, OK, hard, yes, perfect, wow, good" and lots of other things that just confused me.

Noel had told us that the delivery would be in the form of a hundred pound "envelope" and then when the foal is out of the envelope and then it is like somebody puffs into the the foal balloon and everything inflates and takes shape. That was a pretty good description except that the "envelope" looks more like a bright white lubricated condom that you might see on the "Paul Bunyan in Las Vegas" DVD. Noel showed no signs of queasiness while sitting on the floor next to a condom that was as big as she was and in fact she didn't notice me jump like I did when she suddenly tore into the condom right above the baby's face and she wiped the forehead and yelled out "It's a CHESTNUT!" and then happily unwrapped the rest of her present.
It had a banana shaped head with large ears and very very long legs with knobby knees.
Mama kept looking back and seemed impressed with her little wet chestnut colt.
The entire delivery took about 90 seconds. There was more wetness and grossness and wonderment in that minute and a half than I have seen in a very long time.

I have some pictures of a long awkward goofy looking creature nose to nose with mama.
Then mama stood up, the umbilical cord breaks and the goofy baby is officially on his own.
At this point we were supposed to sit back and wait for the kid to figure things out.
At this point we had NO idea that our long night was just getting started.
more later...

Waiting for the puppy...

Remember how I was whining about nothing exciting happening and nothing to write about and how whining was really the most important thing that I could whine about?

Well here we are on the cusp of a new puppy up here at the Hampster Ranch.
I know, I know, we don't live here anymore, but we came back for the big event.
These creatures are prey animals so they only drop their hundred pound package during the night and they do it quick. Stop eating, a little kicking, lie down, a few grunts and stand up again. Then it's time to eat again. Noel has a camera set up in the barn so she can know when to run down there, but we had a whopper of a storm, and when the lightning hit the tree behind the house the barn-o-cam got fried along with the electric fence unit, some fencing, and my Tivo.
Noel called around for people that had old video cameras that they weren't using and we found that there were several available that were missing their power supplies, so I did some fudging and patching and we now have a functional barn-O-cam so we can wake up and run when the time comes. Beth and I have been here for three nights already but tonight is the night... for sure. Milk dripping from the appropriate places and other signs of impending changes.

So tomorrow I shall have some interesting pictures, I will leave out the "surprising" ones and just put up the cute ones. Tonight... for sure...
When the lightning hit I was face to face with Barnum (the primary farm cat) and when the big bang actually banged, Barnum's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he wondered just HOW I was making that noise. I was surprised that his eyeballs didn't fall out. As I looked around Beth came out of the bedroom and she had the same eye condition plus her hair was standing on end from all of the static that was in the air. Pretty cool. You should have been there, it was pretty cool.
I couldn't finish enjoying the moment because Noel put me to work fixing things so we could monitor the "progress" during the downpour.
Today I finished fixing the fencing and now we are watching a movie while waiting for Leslie to arrive with the proper supplies to get through this ordeal (whipped cream and shells for the strawberry shortcakes).

Bicyloco Supremo for da big bucks

I almost forgot...

Linda Blake is doing an extremely loooooong bicycle ride to raise money for cancer research.

The Annual4th folks know her well and if you don't know her, she's my cousin.

A looooooong ride. All up hill.

She needs some sponsors, so I've got to go donate right now.

Here's the link Linda Blake Bicyloco Supremo

Go there or be square.

Life Explained

• On the first day, God created the dog and said: 'Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.'

• The dog said: 'That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you
  back the other ten?'

• So God agreed.

• On the second day, God created the monkey and said: 'Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span.'

• The monkey said: 'Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?'

• And God agreed.

• On the third day, God created the cow and said: 'You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.'

• The cow said: 'That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?'

• And God agreed again.

• On the fourth day, God created man and said: 'Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years.'



• But man said: 'Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?'

• 'Okay,' said God, 'You asked for it.'

• So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves.

• For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family.

• For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren.

• And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.

  
  
  Life/lifespans have now been explained to you.

(source unknown, so I will attribute it to 'that internet thing')

Thank You

Exactly four years ago today we were busy saying goodbye to Derek. I was holding the telephone to his ear as Tess in Florida said her tearful goodbyes, I couldn't hear what she was saying because the breathing machine made so much noise. People talked to him. At noon his heart finally rested. I still remember standing up and looking around after we were done and seeing the entire room crammed full of family and friends. FULL. A lot of you. I didn't realize that everyone had squeezed in. There were certainly a few speed limits broken that morning as people traveled long distances. The rule about how many guests in a room was overridden by those wonderful nurses.

I will never forget turning around and seeing everyone there. Thank you.
During the next week we were surrounded by a large crowd of loving people and we supported each other. Our little towns pulled together and opened town halls, inns, and other resources to make everybody's transition a little easier.

Wow. Thank you.

I know that most of you do not check back here because I haven't been writing at all,
but just in case you are reading this....

Four years ago we said goodbye to Dude.
He was a really good kid.
At noon today just take moment to say Derek's name.
Thank you.

Thank you Derek for being all that you were.

A note.

Yesterday Beth was planting some flowers at Derek's stone and there were a few items that were there. His car key and the little Buddha are still there but someone had placed some silk flowers, and there was a prom corsage with a note, since Beth didn't know what it said, she brought it home for translation.

(We do too)

[Babelfish]

[Last year]

[Twenty One]

Announcement:

Re: Annual4th 2008

(Schedule)

(Location)

Get the picture?

Charleston SC

We just got back from Charleston and the 2008 Mighty Marmon Muster.
We had a great time and I have a few stories to tell.
It was great to be back on the road again.
But first there is another post that I have to do.
please stand by...