Unearthing a life.....

Meanwhile, global warming has totally cooked our revered leader's brain.... Okay, I won't get into that ... too much controversy over whether such an organ ever existed. Things definitely are going to hell in a handbag ...? Is that correct? 'Going to hell in a handbag?' 'In a handbag?' Maybe I'm jumbling things up. You never know.

I don't know what revered leader is going to do about all those agitated Muslim countries. They are becoming so damned inconvenient. The news (TV) this morning said that Tony Blair was rushing to George's side to have words on this very subject. Whatever decisions do you suppose they will arrive at? Maybe BOLD MOVES, like bringing democracy to Iraq, or confusion to New Orleans? Now that we have one foot mired in Iraq and the other foot mired in Afghanistan, it is going to be increasingly difficult to kick Middle Eastern butt. Perhaps revered leader could head-butt the rest of them into submission.

Lift up your voices in song, people, it's not raining inside today.

I'm beginning to feel like Alice's White rabbit here. So much to do and so little time! The Aleister-free days are flitting by and I'm in hot pursuit of all the things I found it hard to focus on when he is here. Blogging is taking a hit. That was something I could do with him in the house and/or with an eye out for the school bus.

Well, computer problems at the first of the week cooled my ardor somewhat, but I got it back in working order late Wednesday and I'm back up to speed. Whatever that means. They could not find any problem with it. Wouldn't work here, worked fine in the shop. Used to have a lot of second-hand car problems that followed that route.

Anyway, to make the story longer, I finished (Thursday evening) a Bride's Book with maybe 130 wedding photos imaginitively arranged on twenty-four protective sleeve pages in a white presentation album/display book. An item that I plan to hand deliver to the bride's parents for transmittal on to her .... with practiced humility .... and will cause them all to pause and consider what a wonderful and generous person I am. And that's what life is all about.

Now, you may be wondering about the photo at the top of this posting. Wonder no more. On my Flickr photo site, I have joined a 'group' called SentenceMe. This Group was formed by a woman in Iceland about ten days ago and is now creeping over 200 members ... a very international lot.
The object here is to pick a quote out of a book and challenge one of the other members to create a (new) photograph that could be used to illustrate the visual and/or emotional imagery evoked by the quote. Once the challengee posts the photo with the quote as its caption, then the challenger comes along and adds the name of the author and the book. And then everybody makes 'comments'. Doesn't that sound like fun? YES, IT DOES!

So far, my challenger has not shown up to divulge the book and author from which this quote was extracted. But the quote itself is:

"When they stopped for the night, the dwarves moored the rafts to aspen trees along the mouth of a small stream." This challenge (my third) was sent to me by 'LaStef' (Lara Stefansdottir, a 49 year old Director from Akureyri, Iceland).

And now she has provided the following:
....from the book ELDEST by Christopher Paolini.

Bookworm and I went to a wedding yesterday afternoon. It was held at an organic farm called 'The Farm Kitchen' ... out in the hinterlands between Poulsbo and Kingston. The setting, the company, the food and the wine were all great .... THE most fun wedding I can remember ever attending. The wedding seating (above) stayed vacant till the last minute .... guests were cowering in the shade under the fruit trees.

I took 294 pictures. Today I trashed 128 of them. Not bad considering the harsh difference between the sunlight and the shade. The new camera did a lot better than I had expected.

I've been falling down on my blogging efforts the past couple of weeks. With Allie not being here much during the summer, I've the opportunity to roam further from the computer. And I've been putting a lot of my time developing the new 'photo site' and joining some of the groups available there. But a mouth like mine will not stay shut forever.

If Saddam Hussein is responsible for WMD's that never existed....
If Osama bin Laden is responsible for 9/11....
If Kim Jong Il is responsible for test firing missles....
Who, might I ask, is responsible for the rape and murder of the young Iraqi girl and her family? Who is Commander-In-Chief here? Where is the buck going to stop this time?

Rape and/or murder of civilians by American troops should not come as a shock or surprise. Thus it has always been ... or as the Talking Heads sang it, "Same as it always was." And to raise a hue and cry about it would be tantamount to non-support of our troops and gazing at the borderline of treason with the naked eye.

However that may be, from the Native Americans at Sand Hollow, to the 'ragheads' of WWII North Africa, to the civilians of the raped villages of Vietnam, certain elements of the American fighting forces have historically engaged in brutality, rape, torture and murder against civilian populations subject to their power. We do often send actual killers to do our official killing.

For what little it is worth, my apologies to the dead girl and her dead family. We should never have been in your country in the first place. And once there, we had no God-given right to rape and murder you.

So THAT IS WHAT HAS PISSED ME OFF on this otherwise fine Sunday morning. One black crow feather's worth of outrage. [And the buck hasn't stopped yet 'cause I just saw it running down my street .... up my street, actually .... down my street is a cul de sac .... which is a round, empty thing that brings to mind The Shrub's brain.

It has seemed like a weekend with never-ending legs. Here it is Tuesday and it's still the 'weekend' .... AND the Fourth of July!
Bookworm returned Monday noonish from her 'Cousin's Retreat in Port Townsend'. Then, after a few hours rest, we decamped, with noapologies' parents, for a munch and drink evening topped off with fireworks across the bay at Poulsbo -- those North Kitsap Norwegians are inexplicably a day early with their Fourth of July fireworks. The fireworks were a long time coming (10:30 PM) and the breezes were getting brisk and chilly (Bookworm and I were undressed) ... and the tide was coming in briskly and threatening to submerge the spit of land that many of us had settled on in our beach chairs. At that point Bookworm and I abandoned the fireworks at their halfway point and squished our way back to high ground.

This afternoon, we are driving out to 'Mom's' home to spend the Fourth (eating and drinking) with her ... and her husband who is preparing a special Greek appetizer for our delight and we must not arrive much past the appointed hour lest his crackers get soggy! Besides which 'Mom' has made a potato salad at my request, which is becoming traditional being as how Bookworm hates potato salad and refuses to make it .... or, often, to even be in the same room with it.

Truely a weekend with legs! Hope you are all having a good day and experiencing something you can blog about.

Daughter Kelly called a few minutes ago to let me know that she was safely returned from France as of yesterday .... which was the day I received her first two post cards mailed from Paris. She reports spending two days touring the Louve and visiting the Picasso and Rodin Museums and Monet's gardens, the Ritz, Hemingway's hangout, Provence, the show at Moulin Rouge, etc.,. AND she ate and drank heavily and gained only two pounds for the trip. And took eighteen rolls of film.

Photo: Shop entryway somewhere near the Seattle Public Market, taken July 1st, 2006, by FossilGuy.

My day has gone fairly well .... and I suppose I owe a small tip of the hat to the U.S. Coast Guard for that. They provided security for the ferry trip to Seattle this morning and half of the way back to Bremerton this afternoon. I am a little curious about that half way back business .... I have a sneaking hunch they drifted back to Elliott Bay and escorted the Bainbridge Ferry .... got all those rich folks home safely and left us hill-billy Bremertonians to fend for ourselves. That's what it felt like. For a trip and a half no other boat dared look sideways, or point its bow, at the ferry .... then suddenly the Coast Guard vanishes and all the small boats start doing as they please (more or less). A couple pointed their bows in our direction and I DID think, "Oh - oh, are they starting a suicide run at the ferry?"

With Bookworm gone off to Port Townsend with her many female cousins for three whole days of whooping it up, I am having to fend for myself. Which is easier than fending for myself and Bookworm. And far easier than fending for myself, Bookworm, and Allie. Maybe this is what's called a vacation. I've been dining on potato salad and dark beer, watching dreadful movies and Mariner's games and today did another walkabout in Seattle with my camera. Came home with 215 pix on the camera and had 115 left after my first run-thru edit. And I had a wonderful white chocolate mocha from Tullys. I call that a good day.

But now what! Evening draws nigh. I've made no dinner plans. I do have two more bad movies rented and it is only ninety more minutes before the next Mariner's game. Perhaps I'll survive. I shall dine on Fat Free Pringles, Braeburn apples, and sourmash whiskey. Three food groups -- vegetables, fruits, and grains. And peach yogurt for a ballgame snack. Dieting can be fun if you push the envelope.