Squeaky goes to Valhalla

                                                  

   Squeaky in better times.

Squeaky died sometime in the night.  Scotty said that he noticed when the hamster wheel suddenly went silent.  Oh, well.  It was his time.

Scotty had always been pragmatic about things in his life.  Lose a favorite Wheel Box car?  Oh, well. It'll turn up somewhere.  Dropping a slice of pizza?  Oh, well. Just brush it off.  So when Squeaky's little ancient hamster heart stopped beating, Scotty and I (as the parental unit) both thought about how to give him a suitable burial.

Scotty had been into Vikings after watching "How to train your Dragon" for the twentieth time.  "Let's throw a Viking funeral!" Alright, we can do that, no problem. But I didn't know what I was saying.

Scotty retrieved a canoe/barge made of popsicle sticks at church camp last summer. We put Squeaky on a pile of twigs layered on the water craft.  After pushing the funeral barge out in the swimming pool, Scotty used the "Hunger Games" bow with a burning marshmallow at the point of the arrow aimed at the barge.  

Again and again.  

When the canoe finally caught fire, it initially went up in flames and the thing burned before hisssssing out and sinking, leaving a singed marshmallow sticky Squeaky floating on the top of the water.

Oh, well. 
I managed to scoop Squeaky from the failed Viking send-off with the pool skimmer.  What now?

Scotty had watched some warrior movie where the slaughtered hero was placed on a funeral pyre.  "Let's do that, Dad!"  So we did.

My plans for Squeaky were minimal.  I could image Squeaky rolling in his plastic hamster ball on the Rainbow Bridge in Asgard.

We lay out some sticks crisscrossed to form a good solid structure on the patio, and carefully placed Squeaky on it. Scotty used the Kingsford wand lighter to get a good burn going on the bottom layer.  But, with us being novices at funeral pyres, the whole thing collapsed, leaving Squeaky lying on the concrete surrounded by embers.

Odin, can you see this?? Oh, well.  

I didn't know how we were going to give Squeaky a big send off.  But, Scotty, being the boy scout he is, had an idea which made me wince and cringe.  It made sense, but man....really?

I pulled out the old rusty Coleman barbecue and built a pyramid of Kingsford guaranteed-to-light charcoal briquettes.  Scotty placed Squeaky on the center above the coals, using my brand new BBQ tool set.  Then he performed the Kingsford lighter ritual and got the coals going.

At first, it seemed that Squeaky was finally heading to his fiery hamster Valhalla.  But Noooo.

Squeaky had some sparks here and there, but clearly the charcoal was not ready.  It developed a nice white ash like briquettes do.  But that was it. Instead, the odor of grilled Squeaky told us the truth.

Oh, well.  

By this time, Scotty had had enough.  "Let's just bury it."  He retrieved a shovel from the garden.

"Dad?"

Oh now, what will he ask? A pine box?  What do I say? Odin, please help us. Thankfully, Scott dropped the dead hamster into the dirt and covered it up.

"Dad?  Can we go to Lucille's BBQ?  Mom has a coupon for free appetizers."  He wiped a charcoal streaked hand across his nose.  "I'm kinda in the the mood for ribs, aren't you?" 

  

My daughter Mary's hamster Max died on the first day of middle school. Mary wept, indicating that she should stay at home for a day of mourning. Didn't happen. In a rare moment of kindness, my son John placed Max in a shoe box and buried it in the backyard with all the other deceased pets. Mary did go to school, but has insisted over the decades that she never recovered from the loss. At 42yrs, she still mourns the loss.

I wrote this in 2014 and exhumed it. I felt it needed a more elaborate resurrection. It was fun to write. ‎

 

500 words

The Cat Came Back

 

  We live in a "retirement community" where the age requirement is 55+ (closer to 80). Most residents have little fluff ball dogs, which are taken for walks and are loved. Few have cats, which are by necessity indoor cats. They are a favored treat of coyotes. Rabbits run too fast, but a cat has few chances of reaching safe ground. 

There is a lovely old woman who has come to my door several times asking if I had seen her cat.  Her caregiver behind her, keeping her steady, while the old woman said that her name was Helen.

Her trembling voice and stooped body told me that she was indeed frail.  I wished I could help her, but the caregiver took her away to another house. 

 So, I think about her now and then.  I wish that her cat would finally come back. 

A caravan summer

1955 Caravan Holiday camps

 

As a cheerful welcome representative of “Sunny Side Caravan Park”, Natalie escorted the Phillips family to their regular trailer. So darn cheerful that Hazel wanted to choke her. When the nubile sweetie enthusiastically bounced off to greet other campers, Hazel cursed her with obesity and a jiggly butt.

Jimmy Phillips was already in his swim togs, snagging some biscuits on his way to the brisk northwestern English sea. Running over the rock and pebble beach, Jimmy was the vision of joy.

Husband Roddy had headed to the “Bully Bar” barely after the car door had slammed, and was well into his second pint.  Same old, same old.  

But, Hazel stood in this worn moldy caravan where her family spent every single summer holiday for the past 15 years, and wished to be under sunny skies, somewhere, anywhere but here.

Her laser eyes mentally scorched and eviscerated every other old campers as they settled in their own mouldy caravan. Do you hate this as much as I do? Where did we go wrong? 

Every now and then, she met the eyes of other mothers and communicated the same thoughts they had. Oh, how I hate this. I hate this so much.

Her caravan was sandwiched with other caravans in a field of domino caravans--rusty moldy chipped-paint caravans filled with their own Jimmy or Roddy people.

Stifling a scream,Hazel pulled a bottle of Jameson from her bag, opened it in a panic, which she glugged down 1/3 of it.  Her second bottle was tucked away now behind the biscuit tin. 

As sunset folded into dusk, Hazel strolled to the dining hall, where tea/supper was being served.  As the alcohol gave her a warm fuzziness, Hazel smiled. Same old, same old. 

Hazel hoped she had remembered to bring the vodka.

An old friend Hazel told me about this every summer, putting a smile on her face but panic and anger in her eyes. God bless her, Hazel managed to hold her family together during these holidays.

YouTube: Blue for Bluebird

 

 

99.78% is the truth.

 

 

 This movie was a surprise, in many ways.  With such a boatload of respected actors, it was released to a limited time at some theaters, on Dec. 21, 2021 . It became another movie  on Netflix Dec. 24, three days later.

The presidential debates?

The Finality

 

There are many views of this movie.  Here a few:

"The whole movie really emphasized the pure truth: - how politicians are telling lies - how powerful technology billionaires are - the privilege of rich people - the ignorance of people about scientific threats"

"Idk if I'm over analyzing but my favorite detail about this scene is how he's holding the coffee mug at the end. He has his hand on the hot part not by the handle, almost like a last bit of comfort/distraction, a little warmth, the very thing that brought life in the first place."

 

There are many many comments about this movie, all of them shaking their heads and saying "This looks strangely possible, and the politicians are also strangely scary in the view of their power."

If you have time, watch this.  The comedy is good, message is even better.

Neigh, Neigh, No, No.

 

                                              This was popular in the 1950s.

"Why use plain ole butter when you can use… horse fat? The ad boasts using the finest horse hooves and fat that money can buy. It also says that it’s great on bread, toast and pancakes.

Just the idea of this is disgusting to most of the world today, let alone to those concerned with animal rights. The one redeeming thing about this ad is that it shows the contrast between yesterday’s world and ours. I don’t think that using horse fat is even legal anymore, but in the 1950’s it was simply an alternative. Still, this gives the phrase “I can’t believe it’s not butter” a whole different meaning." Retro Dee's, Dickman's (made from the goodness of ponies.)

1950s, burping pen, Grooveyard, Horse fat salad, jello salad, Kraft foods, potato fudge, Retro Dee, tonsils in a jar

 

You want it, we got it.

 Some of fellow bloggers have questioned its validity, as rightly you should. While there is butter to use on horses for their health, nothing is written about this product, dang it. Ponies were popular in the rural areas where I grew up. The Dept of Agriculture wanted to use ponies as alternative to beef, so farmers were encouraged to give this a run. That was in the 1950s.

Give it a try?   

Some readers may consider this a hoax, but it is not. Neighbors did this experiment. A neighbor Jim tried this, still had one pony left which I saw in the field a few times. 

This was a 2022 blog post.  I hope you all will find this inspiring.

My daughter lives in Switzerland and their fine eating is different from ours.  

culinary heritage Swiss

This will tell you more than you ever needed to know about this Switzerland delicacy.

 

 

 

Storm Wind Party

 

"StormWind"  is part of the Warcraft Games. This is about

1:25 min. long.

The following is a re post from 2016.  Did a lot of re-writing, inserting some images. Watch as much as you can. This was a memorable Birthday party even.

My gr-daughter Sunshine's birthday will be next week, on May 4.  Normally, it would be a swim party, with lots of kid food. But things change as years go by.

This year is interesting. Being a creative person,  Sunshine will be in Fourth Grade and this party is more sophisticated: it will be an on-line party hosted by herself and Sunshine, and arranged through the World of War Craft.  Storm Wind is supposed to be exciting.

Things get busy.  This is about 3 min. long.

The girls have reservations to hold the computer interactive party at/in the kingdom of Storm Wind, with the blessing of the Alliance.  Actually, there will be two parties: one in the Realms of Echo Isle and the other in Silver Hand.

Invitations have been sent in inter-game mail, and requests for gifts have been made.  The gift registry can be found at the registered site. 

There will be non-alcoholic beer (apparently some of the goblins interacted negatively with the gnomes).  There will be fireworks and fortune cards from Sage.

Some of the attendees will be Pendix, Gnome Mage. WhereamI (a Dranai Warrior) and a Dancing Mechanical Monkey. At their own computers in their own homes, these noble warriors will battle.

That is so “old school”, I have been told, by Sunshine. After all, she is almost 12.

I had not been invited. My daughter was also not on the list. Our knowledge of Storm Wind is non-existent. She had to provide the cake, however. We cracked open a bottle of Pinot Grigio and watched cheesy romance movies.

This is a post from 2016.  Now, Sunshine is 18 and her sister sister, Butterfly is 20.

A portion of this was left out: the day after the computer extravaganza, Butterfly hosted a tea party for us (her mother and grandmother) on Mother's Day.

Dancing in Detention

 

Once a gaggle of middle school girls were talking about dancing and I overheard them.  My gr-daughters were dedicated to Irish Dancing, and I smiled.  One asked me if I danced.  Hah!

I grew up in a small country town of 437 population.  There were four protestant churches.  Our small, very conservative church outlawed dancing, make-up, movies, any place that served alcohol, jewelry, wearing sleeveless blouses/dresses, no female slacks to be worn in the church...

Still I smiled.  Irish dance shoes won't ever be on my feet but I don't need them.  I have this group of talented dancers/actors as my teachers:

The Detention Dance sequence is so amazing. 4 minutes long. The famous dance scene is at 3:29.

Irish dancing is definitely not in my wheel house of skills. Except I  have NAILED this famous dance.  I have made some adjustments. 

My gr-daughters were always brought home from their preschool by their daddy. I was there with a prepared lunch.  One day I introduced them to this dance, renaming it as the "Tuna fish Sandwich Dance".  We danced around at lunch, danced some more. 

So, I told those know-it-all middle school dancers that  Yes, I dance,  the breakfastclub (breek faist eh cluh buh) dance. Confusion drifted over their faces. They nodded blankly and took off, whispering as they went. I hoped they would search for this title and then learn the meaning of life.

Be loyal, patriotic, and faithful

 

John Wayne was a fervent patriot. He wanted to join up for WW2, but was rejected as being too old. But, the military wanted him to act in patriotic films. He was active in helping veterans and  supporting the military.

A list of some of his military movies:  

The Flying Leathernecks (1951) ...
Operation Pacific (1951) ...
The Fighting Seabees. ...
The Green Berets (1968) ...
In Harm's Way (1965) ...
The Longest Day (1962) ...
The Flying Tigers (1942) ...
Back to Bataan (1945)

The one that always pops up in my brain is "The Longest Day".

 

I have seen all of these once and then twice. Now that I am older and have a better understanding of that horrible war, I appreciate what John Wayne portrayed. War is hell.

John Wayne, May 26 1907-1979

For those who want to watch "Saving Private Ryan", it is a profound experience, in that It was not bloody enough. Veterans of this day said that the assault on June 6 was bloodier. 

Niland brothers on Normandy Beach

Interview with D-Day veteran: