UPDATE: SORRY, BUSY, BUSY, BUSY!

I have a lot of stuff to do right now. Doctor stuff, computer stuff, promises to keep, books to read because I owe reviews to publishers.  There’s not nearly enough time in my day to do it all and I have fallen way behind on most of the stuff I usually do for Serendipity. Lucky for me it’s October and there are lots of pictures to post, otherwise, there wouldn’t be much here, either.

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I’m going to have to delete a pile of notifications. I’ll never get to them. Please accept my apologies. The “JUST two hands and one head … ” rule applies. If I add one more thing to my “to do” list, I’ll disintegrate into a mass of ones and zeroes and be permanently sucked into some virtual reality.

At least I’m still managing to write a bit. It’s going to be a while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can dig myself out of this hole I’m in.

NO UNDERGROUND ANYMORE

Underground.

Like the flowers before the spring? Or the Resistance during the big war? Or, maybe, the trains that rumble underneath most major cities.

drone spy

These days, it often means “hidden” as it “off the grid.” Not discoverable in the usual ways. Without an electronic footprint in the virtual universe. And good luck to you in achieving it. Got a Facebook account? Twitter? Snapchat? Do you blog or comment on others’ blogs? Do you use email? How about a credit card?

I’m not sure I was ever underground. I certainly never went to any lengths to keep my life a secret or hide whatever I was doing. As soon as there was an Internet, I was on it. The price of admission to the virtual world, the online society is personal privacy. Not every single bit of your privacy.

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To the best of my knowledge, what we do and say in the privacy of our homes and cars remains there, barring some blabbermouth posting it somewhere. Otherwise, the minute you sign on up for your first social media account, you are in the net, on the grid, part of the web, and fair game for every organization who’d like a piece of you.

Is it annoying? Yes. Is it inevitable? Definitely.

You can rant, rail, whine, and moan about how the government is watching you and you would probably be correct. They are. They will. They always have done, only now, they can find you much more easily. Computers and cell phones have made spying on citizens a whole lot simpler.

And, of course, advertisers are targeting you. Scammers will find you.

Wailing and gnashing of teeth notwithstanding — what did you think was going to happen when you put your life online and made it public?

UNDERGROUND | THE DAILY POST

VIBRATING TREES IN A VIBRANT AUTUMN

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Vibrant Colors


It’s just so bright outside this week. I don’t know if we have reached peak. It’s a bit early for it, but it wouldn’t be the first time the foliage has peaked early.

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Vibrant colors? You want vibrant colors? Here are some for you and they are nature’s own, one and all.

And now, a selection of Garry’s photographs. Because we have taken well over a thousand foliage shots between the two of us. With at least another week of full color to come, it’s time to start getting serious about posting pictures.

cee's fun foto chall

TALLY HO! IT’S HUNTING SEASON AGAIN!

Photographs: Garry Armstrong


I don’t hate hunting season because I cried when hunters killed Bambi’s mother. Though I did cry and I personally can’t shoot things even if I like the way they taste roasted with some rosemary and garlic. No, I hate hunting season because the people with the guns are not nearly careful enough about not shooting near homes and other populated areas.

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Every night between now and the middle of November, I hear the guns. Bang. Bang. Bang. I worry every time my dogs are outside and I continue to worry until they come home and no one has a hole somewhere they shouldn’t.

I always will remember,
’twas a year ago November,
I went out to hunt some deer
On a mornin’ bright and clear.
I went and shot the maximum the game laws would allow,
Two game wardens, seven hunters, and a cow.
I was in no mood to trifle,
I took down my trusty rifle
And went out to stalk my prey.
What a haul I made that day.
I tied them to my fender, and I drove them home somehow,
Two game wardens, seven hunters, and a cow.
The law was very firm, it
Took away my permit,
The worst punishment I ever endured.
It turned out there was a reason,
Cows were out of season,
And one of the hunters wasn’t insured.
People ask me how I do it,
And I say, “there’s nothin’ to it,
You just stand there lookin’ cute,
And when something moves, you shoot!”
And there’s ten stuffed heads in my trophy room right now,
Two game wardens, seven hunters, and a pure-bred Guernsey cow.

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I don’t object to hunting on principle, at least not if you eat what you kill. Trophy hunting makes me queasy and killing endangered species should be a felony. But so should polluting the air and water. Let’s be fair. Anyone and everyone who is working industriously to destroy our planet for a few extra bucks or so they can hang a head or antlers on their wall? They need to experience suffering.

Otherwise … if you hunt, aim carefully. Please.