Thursday, November 27, 2014

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Stump a Brit

Want to stump a Brit? There's no need to confound them by showing them an unlabeled map of the U.S. and asking them to fill in  the names of the States.
(Photo courtesy of BuzzFeed.)
Or even by asking them about American Mythology, i.e., what are the 4 Countries in the Land of Oz (Munchkin, Gillikin, Quadling, and Winkie).
Meet them on their own ground, and ask them when is Michaelmas (Sept. 29).
Or ask them to name the Channel Islands (Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, Sark, Herm, Jethou, and Brecqhou).
For bonus points, ask them to name the Cinque Ports (Hastings, Romney, Hythe, Dover, and Sandwich).
Then ask them what a "-wich" is, anyway (a Town with salt deposits).

Sunday, November 23, 2014

The Banks o' the Merrimack

Was nice out this afternoon, so I took my bike up to Groveland. Rode through Groveland to West Newbury, then went east along the South bank of the Merrimack into Newburyport. Crossed over to Amesbury on the famous (but newly rebuilt) Chain Bridge, then rode back along the North bank to Haverhill and Groveland. Saw a couple of lonely-looking Bison at Kimball Farm. It got chillier and darker as I went along, but it's always a beautiful area to ride in.

Friday, November 21, 2014

Sci-Fi for Christmas...?

Watched Scroogenado™ last night with Anne Crockett.

 Didn't know that the Syfy Channel was on the cheesy Christmas Movie bandwagon, too.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Ice Blue Heron

Was walking with Annie around Horn Pond, and we stopped to look at the water pouring over the dam. Then I looked down, and saw the Heron just standing there.

(Photo courtesy of Anne Crockett. She says, "This was the closest I've gotten to a Heron. He must have felt safe down below the dam.")

Saturday, November 1, 2014

New Pants

Someone you know has new pants. "Well, Lah-di-dah", you are thinking, "Why should we care?"
Because this was no mere shopping jaunt, this was an expedition. To an infamous big-box retailer that you don't want your friends to know you shop at, and where (to avoid mutual embarrassment) you hope you don't run into anyone you know, no matter how slightly.
So you go as far away as possible, to one that is in another State, or time zone, even. The place is always just too warm, like a Greenhouse or a Neonatal ICU; and you sit sweating in the dressing room, trying to wrestle your way into the pants you have chosen. They claim to be the same size as the ones you are replacing, yet they are more like sausage casings than suitable vestments.
There go your hopes that all the exercise and careful eating means you can "downsize". Now you will have to buy even bigger ones. You leave there with what are essentially khaki harem pants, and think, "If I donated these things to orphans in the Third-World, they could use them as two-man tents."
That is why you should care.