Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge – January 19, 2018
Going back and processing pictures that have long waited for me. Brookline in December, Cooperstown in summer.
My favorite horizon is sunrise, but sunset is pretty good too. Anywhere where the sky meets the earth is a horizon. Clear away the buildings and the trees, and there it is.
Welcome to New England where our most popular regional sport is politics. Football, baseball, basketball and hockey cannot compete with the joys of arguing politics. That this year is politically the worst experience since we drove out the British only means that all our other complaints will have to wait in line until the political rage has been satisfied, at least temporarily.
When politics and sports are finished, we move on to the single sport in which everyone, of any age, can actively compete.
Weather. Or more accurately, complaining about the weather.
From bitterly cold to stiflingly hot, we’ve got the weather to cover it.
Winter is too long, too snowy, too icy, and much too cold. I couldn’t agree more. Everyone is cranky and whiny from the first flakes through final melting. Of course, mud season, the inevitable followup to the heavy snow, is no one’s favorite, discounting the dogs who revel in it.
Spring? What spring? Where are the flowers? Why can’t we get a decent spring season? Is this the punishment of a malign deity?
Until the lilies bloom, New Englanders are cranky.
Some time during May, summer drops by, usually in mid-afternoon. The morning is comfortable until the temperature goes way up and the humidity moves in. The leaves on the trees droop and it is definitely summer. Always too hot. Muggy. Humid.
Or, maybe it’s not hot enough.
In summertime, those triple H days — hot, hazy, and humid — give us a collective headache. Everyone complains. Relentlessly.
Autumn is New England’s winning season. It is everyone’s favorite time of year — except it’s much too short. There are oceans of dead leaves to shovel. We rate our autumn by the brightness of leaf and you can stand on line in the grocery and hear people commenting that “this one isn’t as good as the year before last. Does anyone remembers 2012? Wasn’t that a doozy?”
On a bad year, heavy rains from a tropical storm can push all the way up the coast. Those drenching rains ruin the fall foliage. Which makes everyone cranky.
We recover if the Sox are in the playoffs, but become downright grim if they aren’t.
Speaking of whiny, I know people on Facebook who, in the middle of a summer-long drought during which we haven’t gotten a drop of rain, will rant furiously on the day the drought breaks. I bet they’d be even more whiny if their well went dry . That would be a serious rant!
Vehicles are my absolutely best “v” word, probably because I actually have pictures of many kinds of vehicles. After that, it gets a little more confusing.
I don’t want to shock anyone, but it’s snowing. Not a blizzard. No high winds or blinding whiteout. Just a regular, old-fashioned snow, falling gently from a sky almost as white as the snow falling from it.
I had to wake Garry up at 9 this morning, which is very early.
“Where,” I asked him, “Is the car?”
“At the bottom of the drive,” he yawned.
“I think you need to move it. It’s snowing.”
“Snowing? How much?”
“More than I expected. If you don’t move it, they can’t plow.” I didn’t yet know if it would exceed the 3-inch minimum for plowability, but I didn’t want to discover it later.
Garry sighed, barely avoided an actual whine. Got up, got dressed, went out, moved the car to the top of the driveway. I gave the dogs biscuits which they seemed very intent on getting, then opened the next big box o’ biscuits because — wonder of wonders — we were out of biscuits.
I know. Tragic. But not to fear because we have extras and I’d already ordered two more boxes to be delivered at Owen’s house because we are in the “no one delivers here anymore” zone.
Agile? We are not agile. Garry clumped back down from the parked car. Slowly and carefully because we are sensitive about the whole “falling down” thing. I’m always amazed at “snow people” who seem to manage something akin to grace while wearing gigantic ski boots and long flat poles on their feet. I can barely get from the house to anywhere else in snow and I do not look agile in the process.
We’re hunkering down around here. You all have a great day. We’ll be right here, where it’s warm. Drinking coffee. Listening to books … while the snow falls.
Whoa! Mid January? 2018? Today is Martin Luther King Day, too … I remember when they decided to make it a holiday and eventually, it really did become a holiday. That was back when this country was actually committed to Civil Rights. Was it a million years ago?
Complete this sentence: I’m looking forward to….
No snow, please. Just … stop snowing. Warm up a little, world.
Also, really looking forward to the day we clear out the White House and install a real President and a functional administration. That will be a day for cheering.
What is your favorite comfort snack food?
That depends. Crystallized ginger is always one. Cookies. Chips and salsa. Toast with jam. And an occasional piece of chocolate.
I don’t snack much and I don’t keep much snack food in the house.
What was one of your first moneymaking jobs (other than babysitting or newspaper delivery)?
I worked at Bloomingdale’s putting price tickets on clothing. In the basement. I also counted incoming goods and marked the bills of lading. I was 14, which was the youngest you could be and still work in New York.
What inspired you or what did you appreciate this past week?
I’ve been doing a lot of reading. Trying to get through “Fire and Fury” and remarkably, I’m actually beginning to feel sorry for a lot of the people who have done the best they knew how to try and make it a functional place to work and a more “normal” administration. Everyone failed.
Everyone failed because the man they elected as President is not up to the task. Forget for the moment whether he’s nuts or demented or stupid or whatever else you call him. He is a man who never reads a book. No education. No deep knowledge of any relevant subject. Can’t — won’t — read reports from the other people who supposedly work for him. He has zero knowledge of the critical material with the White House is supposed to deal. And, to top it off, he has no idea how to manage people. He works entirely on instinct and his instinct is based on the last person he talked to.
In short, you can’t “turn him” into a “real” president. He doesn’t have the qualifications and nothing will make it happen.
I was surprised by the book. There’s a lot more empathy and sympathy in it than I expected and I found myself feeling bad for people and how painful this experience has been for them. We elected a man as president who should never have been allowed into the office and we are paying a terrible price for such a shallow, stupid decision.
Not just another WordPress.com site, but an extraordinary place to spend a weekend, grill a cheese sandwich and watch a film to improve your life and stimulate a few of the grey cells.
My book, Women Who Think Too Much, is available at smashwords.com
Travel photos, memoirs & letters home...from anywhere in the world
Essays on travel, identity, literature, and philosophy.
Love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things
writer editor proofreader
Martha Ann Kennedy's Blog, Copyright 2013-2018, all rights reserved to the author/artist
Learning and teaching the art of composition.
follow the yellow brick road
Mainly through the lens of a Nikon
capturing memories one moment at a time
Welcome to the Anglo Swiss World
Echoes of Life, Love and Laughter
Random Ramblings and Reviews from Trent P. McDonald
Posts about old Hollywood, current concerns
Where all the cool squirrels hang out!
Chronicles, Stories & Books by a French-American Writer
My streams of thought meet here
If there is ANY Challenge, I'm IN
Looking for meanings in words, images and sounds
“The undiscovered places that are interesting to me are these places that contain bits of our disappearing history, like a ghost town.” ~~ Ransom Riggs
THIS MACHINE MOCKS FASCISTS
Random musings on life, society, and politics
Light Hearted Mysteries
People, Places, Nature, LIFE!
Don't Let The Blond Hair Fool You
Because Why not?
My Life, I Swear... by Erin Cooper Reed
Fun, unusual and forgotten designations on our calendar.
Just another WordPress.com site
A site for George R. Stewart: Author of the classic EARTH ABIDES
To See More Clearly
Dog paddling through life...