Day 3 = Monday –

Monday, November 3rd, 2014 – -( 0°C / 32°F & Very White outside @ 8:15 am in Atlantic Canada )- { New posts below two sticky posts- }

2 deer in the snow on a grey morning.

There were 4 deer up the hill, closer to our neighbour’s back feeding spot. Only 2 of them took the chance to come down to sample the oats I threw out to them.

There were 4 deer up the hill, closer to our neighbour’s back feeding spot. Only 2 of them took the chance to come down to sample the oats I threw out to them.
Dreams: I had several, remember some. I was walking around outside somewhere, mostly out of doors, with people I knew from the Post Office in Connecticut. & Not the usual ones I think about or the ones who sometimes wander into my dreams to say hello or whatever and then disappear. Pamm F-M. was there, and so was Denise M.C.L.-  I don’t remember what we might have been doing but when Pamm and Denise walked into a building and I was outside, I remember some of the guys were there, and I don’t remember whether all of these guys actually made it through the high pressure training we had to go through. And then I was walking away in daylight, walking past houses on a street I half recognized, and then the houses were gone and I was walking along the edge of an asphalt driveway, where a rounded curb had been formed. There were two African-American hunters with shotguns, facing away from the driveway watching a short slope down to a body of water, and I wondered if they were intending to shoot fish.  There were several saplings that had been planted along the edge of the driveway, maybe one every ten or fifteen yards. There was a small campfire at one spot between saplings and I wondered if that was the hunters’ campfire. and then I thought maybe they had been facing the water out of curtesy to assure us silly humans that they weren’t hunting us.

Waking up: When Cathi sat down on the edge of the bed to finish getting dressed for work I woke up enough to hear strange rumbles going by. I drifted in and out and began feeling back pain in odd spots. But I woke up enough to wonder what day today was, I was fairly convinced it was a Wednesday, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought it just might be a Monday. And Monday means garbage day. As the pieces of ‘reality’ fell into place, I remembered Cathi saying she would have to get up and out earlier than usual to make sure she got to work on time if there was any problem with the snow. When the sun was completely gone last night there was hardly enough snow on the ground to say so, 5 to 30 centimeters forecast or not. I realized the rumbling sounds were probably snow plows going by. It had been 20 minutes to 8 when I’d last been aware of the time, Cathi had already left the bedroom. But, if it was a Monday – And remembering yesterday’s Blog entries were dated Sunday convinced me that it just might be a Monday, – I thought I better get up and take out the garbarge.

Snowy Yard with Snow coated Swing

I first noticed the deer in the open spot beyond the end of the fence that might be too dark in this photo to recognize right off, top of the hill on the right.

I first noticed the deer in the open spot beyond the end of the fence that might be too dark in this photo to recognize right off, top of the hill on the right.
Stumbling past the office, I peered inside and noticed the security cameras outside shots were very white. I stumbled past the office, to the bathroom, hung out in there long enough to feel relieved, stumbled back to the office, looked around for outside clothing, noticed deer were standing around in the center of a couple outdoor shots on the security camera stuff. (which is more like a deer cam than an actual security thing) I found socks and boots and and got through the kitchen, noticed that Cathi was still here, finishing clearing the end of the driveway and clearing the snow away from the van so she could go to work. I realized I would need my winter jacket if I was going to help her any, found the jacket, climbed into it, grabbed the pail of oats for the deer when I saw that Cathi was finished shoveling and about to climb into the driver’s seat and zoom off-

And I went out and tossed several handfulls of oats to where the deer feel safe to eat it. Turning back around, I noticed that Cathi and the van were gone. I put the blue oats pail back inside the porch, went and dragged the garbage can out to the edge of the road, went inside, went to the office, grabbed my glasses, walked back to the kitchen, took a few moments to focus on the recycling calendar, which is too small for easy reading, saw that this week is grey, paper and cardboard recycling. took the grey recycling bin out and placed it next to the garbage can.

Snow, driveway, footprints, drag mark where the garbage can went.

Driveway, often called a ‘laneway’ in Canada, dry spot where van was parked, you can see where Cathi shoveled the end of the driveway before I got my body out of bed and my brain working this morning. You can also probably see a little bit of cloudy sky in the upper right hand corner.

Driveway, often called a ‘laneway’ in Canada, dry spot where van was parked, you can see where Cathi shoveled the end of the driveway before I got my body out of bed and my brain working this morning. You can also probably see a little bit of cloudy sky in the upper right hand corner.
Grabbed the camera and went back out to take a few pictures. Went back inside. Back to the office, took the card out of the digital camera and began the process of copying photos from the card to the computer – Decided that I better let the dog out before he broke anything, jumping up and down outside the office door. Let the dog out, came back to the office, fired up the blog and here we are, with a starving dog barking his brains out outside and I gotta go let him back in and feed him before I pop the photos into this.

I’ve had to walk carefully around the grey ‘visiting’ cat, slightly anxious that I might step on the little fussbudget and either kill him or fall down and break something, possibly bleed out with a nice friendly dog to lick up the blood and cats to complain that I should be feeding them instead of dying on the floor- how inconsiderate—

NaNoWriMo: Last night, before midnight, I stopped at 5,440 words. The NaNo site thinks I could be finished with 50,000 words by November 19th at this rate.


“Image Details”
Two deer grazing
– in the snow of a grey
November morning –
– Snow coated yard
– snow covered swing
– that a young girl
– once loved
Driveway – hidden beneath
– two inches of snow
Many foot prints
– some human –
– some deer –
– and a wide path
– – carved by a –
– – – garbage can –
-dragged by a man
– who couldn’t –
– or wouldn’t –
– carry that –
– weight –
– Sometimes it feels
– that –
– too many –
– things –
– have changed –



~~~~~ ———jda——

Day 2 of NaBloPoMo?

Sunday, November 2nd, 2014  -( 34°F / +1°C & doing something out there, rain, sleet, hail, snow or all of the above plus windy at 12:30 pm Standarad Time in Atlantic Canada )-

—Wow, that was a mouthful—

Dreams?  Yes, I had several and remembered them momentarily while waking up to wonder if we were having the heavy snowfall that had been forecast. But prancing dogs and moaning cats and nagging back aches brought me too close to ‘reality’ too quickly and I lost the dreams, lost my memory of them. If they were important, I’ll see, hear or remember something later that will trigger a memory of the dream.

Nano? Yes, began my NaNo Novel last night, pressed the publish button after midnight, so it showed up as 1,869 words so far today. I will have no problem continuing on from there.

WebCam Snow photos: The old XP machine doesn’t believe it is connected to the LAN right now so I might have to kick it a couple times or threaten it with bodily harm before it wakes up and says, “Oh, that cat 5 cable-” Dirty ruckabruck.

& Um, here we are.

12:54-ish pm  ———jda——

NaBloPoMo? Day 1 / Saturday November 1st, 2014

Saturday, November 01, 2014   -( 1°C / 34°F & ‘Light Snow’ is falling out there @ 9:15 -ish pm / Can I scream now? )-

Frustrating evening. Started my usual Headline news schnarr early enough, but with rain forecast turning to possibly heavy snow, when the love of my life got up we reminded each other that we had to get going and do stuff, quickly. So I left everything unfinished and went a-zooming about.

We zoomed out into the real world, raced over (within speed limits) to the nearest Kent Hardware store, bought 2 pieces of 3/8 plywood and shrink wrap plastic window schnarr.

It began raining while we were out and was cold and damp and wouldn’t have been miserable if we didn’t have to be out in the ‘not even drizzle’ level weather doing stuff.

The two pieces of plywood had to go up under the tarp that is draped over out steel shed. The first one was tricky, the second one was almost a snap.

Strange Man screwing plywood onto frame.

Me, screwing things together, -not up-. Woodpile, under tarp, is probably happily going to stay dry now, whereas it might not have if the plywood wasn’t helping the tarp keep the weather away.

My fingers quickly grew numb while screwing the plywood into the 2 x 2 frame wood, but we got that accomplished. & spouseling got a chance to snap a couple photos of me while I was using wonderful power screwdriver.


Spouseling pulling the last productive plants from her garden.

And ‘mon amour fou’ had plenty to do when we didn’t need both of us to jam plywood under tarps. She had the last vestiges of her fledgeling garden to take care of, and a bunch of leaves needed to go over the newly naked garden-

Yum 2

“Hmmmm- Yum! Thank you, friends from the vegetable world-” Some of our best friends are vegetables.

And we had to marvel over the plants’ resilience, and thank them for making our lives much better than they might otherwise have been, without their friendship and companionship.  🙂


But when I got back indoors, and had to finish my headline news blog schtuff- it was after 5 pm here. Doug, in Ithaca, had been working on this when we had to go zooming out into retail land, but he had a new and unusual problem with his internet connection going off/disconnecting shortly after we were gone.

So I worked on what we had on my end. Worked about two hours, and tried to publish from here.

But Word Press has this irritating error page that pops up every now and then that says, “Do you really want to do this?” / “Please try again.”

And clicking on ‘please try again’, got me a nice- fresh- clean, “add new post” page that was completely blank. —I should have uploaded the whole group project that we had put together and you can see how long it was, and how much was involved in ‘compiling’ that.—

I went back to the ‘All Posts’ page and clicked on the ‘edit’ link for today’s project and —

Roughly about half of it was lost.

The love of my life didn’t learn any new words as I let the universe know that I was not exactly happy with the way things were going. But she did yell at me to ‘chill’ after the third or fourth barage of explitives.

And today is day one of NaNoWriMo -National Novel Writing Month- and NaBloPoMo -National Blog Posting Month-

I can probably post a blog a day without blinking. But getting 50,000 words out in 30 days is a bit of a challenge.

And I don’t want to have to spend all my time and energy screaming and swearing about computer b.s. when crashes happen to good works in progress.



Politix, Gender, Nationality, Identity, & the I Ching –

Friday, June 27, 2014.-( 10C / 50˚F @7:00 am )-

(If I put anything in “quotes” it could be a judgment call, made by someone else, that I haven’t yet verified. ((Or it could be a quote…)) )

I’ve got ‘notifications’ in my inbox. Twitter thinks I should be logging in and following several streams of comments.

One of those streams involves all kinds of mixed opinions on Canadian “Justice Minister” Peter MacKay’s “chauvinistic” attitudes as revealed by his Fathers’ Day and Mothers’ Day Messages, sent out this spring. Those who don’t like Mr MacKay’s attitudes or politics say that his comments reveal deep down character flaws. He basically says (in the ears of his detractors) Mothers are good for making lunches and nurturing children, Fathers are responsible for molding children’s minds, shaping them into good and decent/responsible citizens. He also recently responded, in answer to a question; “Why aren’t there more women judges?” : Something very close to, “Women don’t want a position that makes it difficult for them to take time off to take care of their children.” A lot of people, many of whom are women, are upset over what they see is Peter MacKay’s apparent belief in antiquated visions of sexual divisions and who should be allowed to do what, according to which sex they were born into.

I should probably take this time to explain that I grew up in the United States, mostly in the state of Connecticut, 50 miles or so from New York City, where I was exposed to rather progressive philosophies of gender identities and abilities. I was also exposed to a lot of anything-but-progressive attitudes and anxieties, surrounded by the enforced homophobic atmosphere that prevailed in the public school system. High school teachers and students were more that ready to accuse any young men whose hair was longer than their own of being deviant perverts who would probably want to commit horrific/atrocious crimes against children. Having a mean alcoholic for a father, I didn’t have a friendly attitude toward authority figures. { One evening my father stumbled home drunk from the local V.F.W. bar and demanded, “Why do you do everything that some asshole faggot in England tells you to do when you won’t listen to your own father?” (( V.F.W. = Veterans of Foreign Wars, in theory: an organization to support Veterans and give them a place to feel safe and reminisce about the comradeship of fighting to defend American style freedoms against the evil fascist minions who wanted to take those freedoms from the angelic free democratic peoples of the western world. In practice, the VFW bars that I was exposed to were places where half broken men (women were not allowed to sit at the bars in those days) drank to self medicate against their fears and anxieties that they were powerless/impotent in the face of living their lives in accordance with values and expectations that they had grown up with. So if one half baked philosopher blurts out that ‘kids these days take their marching orders from British faggots and won’t listen to their own parents’, half a dozen half drunk comrades were liable to nod their heads and mutter grunts and monosyllabic agreement, and one or two might go home and terrorize their own children with bullshit observations which they believed just might be the gospel truth. )) Luckily for me, my uncle, my father’s youngest brother, a university graduate and high school teacher, was visiting us when my father accused me of being the dupe of British perverts who wouldn’t listen to his own father. My uncle burst into cackles of laughter and said, “I have never known anyone who makes up his own mind about everything- as much as your son.” My father was stunned and flabbergasted, lost the wind in the sails of his tirade and went looking for another drink, forgot I was there and talked to my uncle until he stumbled into bed and passed out. }

A year or two after that scene, which reinforced my self esteem, and reinforced my quest to make up my own mind about anything and everything, a friend of mine came out of the closet. He wanted to tell his parents that he was gay and wanted to practice this by first admitting this to someone he was pretty sure would not go ballistic and either beat him up physically or verbally. I was stunned. He didn’t know it, but I spent two or three days confused, anxious, worried, wondering how the hell I would ever be able to relate to this guy again. How could I ever be in the same room and feel comfortable after learning this deep dark secret of his. But then I realized that his sexuality was not a contagious disease. He was not going to knock me out and rape me and turn me into some kind homosexual zombie who would then dedicate his life to spreading toxic sexual aberrations around to everyone I came near. I was actually able to enjoy this guy’s sense of humour and intellectual insights. He still had valid things to say. He could read something I’d written and tell me that something I had put down in words could have a positive or negative effect, that I hadn’t considered, on another human being -or groups of people. He was still a valuable human being, a valuable friend. He valued me, considered me talented and liked being around me. He never attacked or made a pass on anybody while I was around- what’s the problem? He was a decent human being. He wasn’t the last person who came out of the closet to me before taking the chance of admitting to their sexuality to other friends or family members.

I first came to Canada to meet someone who had been a friend I’d met online in a writer’s workshop and then learned we shared a bunch of similar interests and tastes and actually made each other feel good about life and all that goes with it in this wild and crazy day and age. When we had shared Astrological information, I learned that she was an Aries, a member of a group that I could very easily be friends with and enjoy wild and stimulating conversations with, bounce ideas off of, might find physically attractive, possibly flirt with, but probably not decide to have a ‘meaningful relationship’ with. When we became better and better friends, she’d admitted that her marriage had failed, she was determined not to fall into the trap of seeking or jumping into another relationship that would probably fail just as miserably. I was involved with somebody, she was thinking about becoming involved with somebody else. My somebody discovered that another guy she had really really wanted to be involved with felt the same about her. My Canadian friend had second, third and fourth thoughts about the somebody else she thought might be a possibility, and then the somebody else found a woman who was ready for him and he was no longer on the market. My Canadian friend said, “You know, if one of my friends told me about a couple like you and me who got on so well over the phone and in email and all that, and said they’d never actually met in person, I’d ask them, “Why the hell not?”- So we arranged a meeting, I had actually told her that I would drive 500 miles, give her a hug and then go home if we took one look at each other and went…. “uh, no thanks-“. The meeting was arranged close to her home turf so she she wouldn’t be stuck too far from home if it didn’t work out. It took me eleven hours or more to drive there, and when I caught a glimpse of her through a crack in a door I thought, “Oh no- she’s way too good looking-” She opened the door, we hugged, we ate, we talked, we jumped into a hot tub together. We fell asleep in each others’ arms and I woke up in love. We spent the next day wandering around Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada and I followed her home the next day, met her kids and heard her say, “We have to find some way to make this work-” Boom, I began to believe there just might be a ‘we’ in my future.

When an attraction is purely sexual, one ‘romp in the hay’ might satisfy the desire. When an attraction is intellectual, that attraction might evaporate if one of the attractees changes an opinion or an idea about anything. If an attraction is emotional, a couple has a ‘fifty-fifty’ chance of achieving a stable relationship. If an attraction is Spiritual, any and all obstacles will disappear to bring that couple together  (I saw this happen. I’m here to prove it, still in love with my Canadian friend ((Now ‘spouse’)) twelve years later.)

I moved to Canada, came in as a visitor, jumped through hoops and paid landing fees to qualify and then become a permanent resident. The only job I could find as soon as I was legally able to work was cleaning a bank for a cleaning service. I accepted a couple more assignments from the cleaning service. The love of my life had a decent job with the government of Canada. We were not exactly rolling in money, but we never starved. I hung in there (she was much more than ‘worth it’) and jumped through a couple more hoops and became a Citizen of Canada, a dual citizen of the US and Canada.

Soon after I got here it became painfully obvious that many Canadians had attitudes that I never anticipated. The love of my life has a son with an Autism Spectrum condition. A psychiatrist she sought help from blamed her. He said, in so many words, that she should have been a stay at home mom, then the boy would never have developed that problem. (If she had stayed at home he might have died of malnutrition or exposure as her ex, the boy’s father, wasn’t quite all there when it came to paying rent and other bills and putting food on the table.) That attitude shocked me. The psychiatrist wanted the boy’s father to come into his office with her and the boy or he wouldn’t see them again. The father was too busy with things that mattered more to himself and, besides, didn’t believe there was anything to worry about. I went with my love and her boy to their next appointment. The psychiatrist talked to me like she wasn’t there. He gave me advice on how to be the man in the boy’s life and signed a paper that started a ball rolling that got the boy the help he needed. This psychiatrist wasn’t the only ‘professional’ with attitudes that shocked me up here. Part of her son’s condition included a great deal of difficulty getting to sleep at nights. We took him to a sleep clinic in the same hospital with the above described psychiatrist. There was a senior nurse in charge at the sleep clinic. When this nurse learned that I was not the boy’s father she glared at me and demanded that I leave the room. And when I began working for a local cable television provider in a one person satellite studio, I learned that the “two nations divided by a common language” description applied to Canadians and USAtians (wink) when communicating with my area supervisor. In the U.S. (or at least Southern New England) I was expected to let a supervisor know that I was still on the telephone and paying attention every so often by saying ‘yes’, ‘okay’, ‘uh-huh-‘ or something in that monosyllabic area whenever it sounded like the supervisor paused for my input or somehow indicated to my understanding that he (usually ‘he’) wanted to know that I hadn’t fallen asleep or put the phone down and wandered off. When I interjected one of my ‘uh-huh-‘ indications to my Canadian Supervisor he became irritated, “Don’t do that-” “Don’t do what?” “Don’t say, ‘uh-huh’ like you’re mocking me.” “Mocking you??” “You sound like, ‘uh-huh- riiiight-‘ like you think I’m a jerk.” “I didn’t mean that at all.” (Luckily, I’d already learned that one or two expressions did not mean the same thing in Canada that they meant in the US. After re-filling my cup from a pot of fresh coffee, I’d asked someone if they wanted a refill, and thought she’d said “Okay,” and begun to pour. I was shocked when she frowned and snapped, “I said I’m okay!” and yanked her cup away as soon as I stopped pouring. When you’re pissed in Connecticut you’re angry or upset with someone. When you’re pissed in Canada, you’re drunk. I had a really good area supervisor at that job. He accepted my explanation about the slight differences in culture and appreciated the idea that I was aware of such things.)

What does the I Ching have to do with anything? When I was in the Navy (part of the US Armed “Services”) there was a guy wandering around the ship I was stationed on with a tortured intellectual expression on his face and a copy of I Ching in his hand. I asked him what the book was all about and he probably half expected me to accuse him of subscribing to some deviant sexual persuasion and/or being less than worthy of calling himself human. He looked more painful than usual and said he’d just read that when a society’s artists take sides in political battles that civilization is in trouble. Sounded good to me, but I think I told him I’d have to think about that for a while. I think he smiled. (Maybe out of relief that I hadn’t attacked his self esteem?) I got a copy of the I Ching a couple months later, read the introduction, chose some British coins that I’d gotten in Malta, shook them up in cupped hands and dropped them, counted their heads or tails -ness and made I think five more tosses and counts to get the hexagrams they represented and looked up those hexagrams which the coin tosses had indicated, read the description of the first hexagram, paid attention to the lines whose totals had ‘told’ me they were changing lines from broken to solid or solid to broken, and read what the changing lines in the first hexagram meant and finally read the second hexagram. It’s complicated and might have been designed to discourage half baked individuals from asking stupid questions and expecting the I Ching to answer them in easily understood language. { The book (or oracle?) will tell you it doesn’t feel like answering a stupid question or even tell you that it already answered that question, don’t bother me again. }

I asked several questions based on the state of the world in the 1970’s, asked about politics, and justice, and social controls, and various philosophies and doctrines. An answer I received quite often included the phrase, “This is not the age of the superior man” or something like “The superior man knows this is not his time to speak or seek to acquire political power”. At the time I wondered why the book/oracle was so concerned about any hypothetical “Superior Man”. A couple years later I was diving deeply into the philosophy behind Yoga (especially Raja Yoga, & Spiritual Practices) A book entitled “The Divine Science”, by Swami Sri Yukteswar, had a fairly easy to understand explanation of cycles this planet (and everybody on it) goes through: at rock bottom, in a very dense area of the universe, almost everybody alive on this earth can only understand the purely physical. (This happened most recently between the year Zero A.D. and 1,000 A.D. We hit the bottom at around 500 A.D.) As our solar system moves in its orbit around the centre of our galaxy, which moves in an orbit around the centre of the physical universe- the spiritual atmosphere becomes less and less dense and people on the planet become more and more intelligent and understand a lot more on many levels. Since the year 1,000 A.D. we have been in an area where most people on this planet can grasp the understanding that electricity can pass through wires, that water can seep through sponges and submerged logs, that air can flow through cloth, and so on. This age, whatever we end up calling it lasts more than one thousand years. During the next step up, the average intelligent life form on this planet will understand that magnetism can control electricity which can flow through the material world. This will sort of be the silver age. The golden age happens when most intelligent beings on this planet understand what Spirit is, that Spirit can control magnetism which can control electricity, and so on. Golden Age Citizens will supposedly understand what life is all about, what our purpose is, why we’re here and where we’re going when we leave this plane of existence. One entire cycle up through the ages and down again (Or down from the peak, through all the descending levels and back up again) takes around 26,000 earth years (give or take several centuries).

Okay! So now the proverbial light bulb goes on in my mind. The I Ching’s ‘Superior Man’ would be someone who is fully enlightened, and can understand the meaning of life, and be fully emersed in Spirit and enjoy all the gifts that come with that. Being on that level in a golden age you could be aware of anything happening on the other side of the universe (quantum entanglement). No one could lie to you, you’d know the truth before they spoke. You would be able to heal yourself and anybody else by manipulating healing energies. You could go into a trance (which would be second nature to you) and regenerate a lost body part. You could teleport yourself to anywhere on the planet, or to any other planet where you knew you could live, breath, have water to drink and all that. The ancient Yogis had a whole list of things that legitimately Spiritually enlightened individuals could accomplish.

Believe me, none of our current ‘Leaders’ exhibit any of those qualities or abilities. Anybody who tries to tell you that ‘we’ are good and ‘they’ are bad… Anybody who tries to convince you that there is an ‘obvious’ division between good and bad people. Anyone who tries to divide and conquer the group of people he or she wants to rule over- anybody who wants to be a ruler, anybody who wants to hold power over anybody else: is not a ‘Superior’ person.

If you elect morons, don’t be surprised when the phrases they utter sound moronic.

If you believe you need to delegate power to someone who will most likely use that power to rule over you, you’re in trouble.

Of course your government is lying to you. If they told you the truth, you’d have them arrested.

How do we fix this? “Every generation needs to wrestle their freedom from the jaws of control.”

Let the morons know you aren’t going to take their doo doo any longer.

(((( as a first step to try to learn how they’re manipulating your economy, go to “”  ))))


Deer – Wearing Summer Fur –

Friday, June 20, 2014.

Deer grazing - photographed through a window.

First hungry visitor we’ve seen in a while, wearing his or her summer colours. This is slightly blurred by reflections on the window I took the photo through.

After not seeing any deer in our back yard at all for at least a month. We had one visitor who acted like he or she had been here before, recognized the silly little sounds I make to let them know I have a pail of oats and it’s for them. There’s a little bit of reflection in the window I shot this through.


The Debate Over Resource Jobs –

Sunday, June 8, 2014. -( 27˚C / 81˚F @ 5:41 pm )-

— Tonight, I heard a radio interview with a former NDP (New Democratic Party of Canada) Premier (I believe) of a western province who is now hyping the idea that we have to exploit shale gas, oil sands, and other ‘fossil fuels’ and natural resources in order to improve the economy, even if a bunch of “tree hugging hippies” and First Nations people are trying to warn everybody that the destructive mining, butchering forests for oil sands and poisoning ground water*  hurts everybody, destroys a whole lot more that it’s worth, and is just plain a bad idea. ( Implied by this idiot =  We need to Frak the bleep out of our water supply, poison anybody who gets in the way of progress and to hell with First Nations’ Rights or we’re all going to be unemployed, starving, wretched fools.) (Let me tell you, the top 1% of the money grubbing ‘rich’ already plan to see you starving, unemployed, a slave to their slightest whims, ready to lick their boots and/or private parts- to feed your children or even yourself.)

Jobs per million bux invested in various kinds of jobs.

This sign was posted at the counter of a grilled cheese kiosk in the northside market.

I’m thinking the only economy that might be helped by wrecking the planet (poisoning the water supply, grabbing all the oil, natural gas and other resources, while engineering b.s. belt tightening propaganda) would be the economy of the richest asshole oil and gas tycoons.

(* poisoning ground water : You’ve probably seen the video of tap water bursting into flames. You probably have not heard the scientific evidence that after an area has been “Frakked” it’s only a matter of time before the so called ‘safeguards’ against poisoned, flammable gasses getting into your drinking water rust and fail.)

((( passing the soap box to anybody else who wants to stand up and rant. )))

Okay – So did Jetpack Kill my Ability to have photos here on my Blog?

Tuesday, May 20, 2014 -(10˚C / 50˚F @ 12:16 am )-  (Re-edited on Saturday, June 7th, 2014.  -( 24˚C / 75˚F @ 7:16 pm AST )-  )

— Yeah. so Jetpack plus WordPress probably didn’t do this on purpose, but as soon as I activated Jetpack on this blog, the photos disappeared and when I deactivated Jetpack they magically reappeared.

——What this means, is — routines that are supposed to give Self-Hosted WordPress Bloggers access to stats that are available to wordpress bloggers whose blogs are hosted on wordpress servers… seem to have ‘interesting’ side effects. However — If a few dubious bells and whistles inadvertently reduce any photos in a post to a link, well, sorry- I don’t need to know that five people read my rantings last Wednesday if my mother can’t go “ooh” and “ahhh!” over photos of strange and/or beautiful natural occurrences (like a herd of slightly jumpy and very hungry deer munching on oats less than ten yards/meters from our back porch window – or a twenty five pound (large economy sized) orange furball of a cat ( a.k.a. “Moe” ) glaring at the camera as it flashes and gives him bright inverted pyramids of golden light in his grumpy eyes.)

— Of course, my blogging woes could also have been Moe, the orange cat’s doing… Ya know ((“Orange Cats are Trouble!”))? Orange cats are almost certainly from another world— and I wouldn’t doubt it one bit if somebody told me they believe this guy has telekinetic powers. (He can be in several parts of the house, looking like he’s been there all day, I mean, everywhere you go, there’s Moe, lounging on the floor, or the couch, or a bed, or a window sill- yawning.) (So it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to believe that this cat can blink a portal into existence, step through it, put on a headset, call his home planet and tell them to wait a couple days before launching the all out invasion force, there aren’t enough mice for all you guys to play with this week, um, I ate too many last week, see? I’m wider than I am tall? Yup, that’s me all over…)

Yeah, so Moe blinks and the computers all go haywire. We should send him to parliament? or maybe the NSA, magic cat walks around and all their spy data believes it’s in danger of falling into alien hands and erases itself, shuts down the spy routines and forgets its passwords. And the NSA is too proud to ask the CIA or the KGB what their passwords are, so they create new ones, and then the cat jumps on their shoulders with his claws extended so he doesn’t go flying off into a mess of papers and the passwords get scrambled, nobody can read them and the security subroutines see that top level people are complaining they can’t remember those passwords five or six times within the course of an hour (Earth Time) and shut the whole system down. And it will stay down until they can find a five year old genius who might be the only person on twelve continents who knows how to retrieve that stuff…

——— Namesta~~,



—– Maybe it was some stupid setting in the original theme we replaced with Mantra — We like Mantra 🙂   —jda—

Am I Back?

Sunday, May 18, 2014.  -( 13˚C / 55˚F @6:27 pm )-

Cathi's Greenhouse We put it together on May 17th.

Cathi’s Greenhouse- We put it together yesterday (May 17, 2014) and two or three photos I took disappeared into a black hole of schnarr.

Cathi’s Greenhouse- We put it together yesterday (May 17, 2014) and two or three photos I took disappeared into a black hole of schnarr.
I think we had a quick little electrical glitch yesterday. While I was trying to download photos from my SD card. quite a few photos became really messed up and ‘unreadable’. And I got the error message that I had removed a USB device improperly and might have issues with scrambled memory or something like that.

Moe, I like the golden flash reflected in his eyes.

Moe. A couple photos of this guy were lost, but had already been saved in several places. Here he is, staring golden triangles into the camera.

Moe. A couple photos of this guy were lost, but had already been saved in several places. Here he is, staring golden triangles into the camera.
So I spent several hours last night backing up what was left on the SD card onto several computers and several Hard drives connected to those computers.

Trees on the hill behind Jim W.'s House.

Trees on the hill (without deer this time) in the rain, buds of leaves hinting at their existence.

Trees on the hill (without deer this time) in the rain, buds of leaves hinting at their existence.
I had to restart a couple of those computers a couple times because internal or external hard drives had vanished (and/or the firewire chain had fatal problems).

Garden cart, picked up at the 'Habitast For Humanity' 'ReDtore'.

This is a garden cart, which i picked up at the ‘Habitat for Humanity’ ‘ReStore’ that our GPS tried to tell us was at an address that couldn’t possibly exist.

Today, we managed to pry ourselves out of bed and zoomed off to the Kent hardware & lumber store to pick up a few things including seeds for Cathi’s Garden, bits of lumber to fashion a more functional place to stash firewood for next winter. & Yummy pie at Frank’s Fifties Style Diner.

Cathi's 'Zen Corner'

Cathi’s ‘Zen’ Corner (just the interior, not the view from within) on the porch which she believes is just perfect for sitting and enjoying four legged and winged friends while laying her guitar and drinking in the beauty around us.

Cathi’s ‘Zen’ Corner (just the interior, not the view from within) on the porch which she believes is just perfect for sitting and enjoying four legged and winged friends while laying her guitar and drinking in the beauty around us.
And finally, we’re back home dealing with wild and crazy (but always interesting) pets, waiting for the next episode of Game of Thrones… Thinking about a run to Tim Hortons in a couple minutes…