Tag: Retired

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ICRTD Hurricane Edition

You know, I was part way through a post about my recent travels and with the way my phone has blown up the last couple days, I figured it might be prudent to address the weather.  I’m not sure if you’re aware, but as it turns out A HURRICANE IS COMING AND IT’S GOING TO MAKE LANDFALL IN NORTH CAROLINA!!!!!!

First off, let me just express gratitude for all the family and friends that have called/texted/DM’d/Messaged me the last few days to make sure I’m safe.  It kinda shocked me, but then I realized it’s because I’ve got the coolest friends on the planet and I appreciate each and every one of you, whether you reached out to me or gave me a few moments thought out of your day.  So thanks, I’m humbled, truly.

Now, to The Storm (capitalization mine) that approaches…

Among the reasons I chose central North Carolina were the consideration that any hurricanes that might come this way would, in theory at least, weaken significantly by the time it came in this far.  Believe me, I have no desire to “tough it out” when it comes to 100+ mile per hour winds and 25+ inches of rain all at the same time.  I have what I consider a healthy respect for Mother Nature.  Being a native Midwesterner I experienced several tornadoes over the course of my life, some closer than others, but I knew enough about them to know that it was foolhardy to try and stare one down.  Tornadoes, of course, are fairly short-lived phenomena.  Hurricanes, as I’m sure you are aware, last for days.  If the experts recommend I should evacuate, I’m gone.

Now, please don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t mean to suggest any of the concerned calls or offers of a place to stay were out of line, rather I know they were placed out of genuine concern for my safety.  And again, I appreciate you.

The initial storm track after landfall was actually fairly close to me, within fifty miles or so.  But even at that the storm that was expected to pack winds around 125 mph and dump 25″-30″ of rain on the coast was only expected to bring 30 mph winds and 3″-6″ of rain to this part of the state.  Granted that’s larger than a typical storm, but perfectly manageable, at least to me.  As long as the storm doesn’t produce six weeks of sub zero temperatures (you know, like January in northern Illinois) I think I’ll be fine.  Further, as of about 45 minutes ago the National Weather Service Hurricane Center now predicts the storm will move south and west after landfall, crossing through South Carolina instead of North Carolina.  I haven’t seen the local updates yet, but I feel safe in assuming that will lessen the impact of the storm on this area even more.  Of course, I’ll continue to monitor the updates and I promise not to do anything (too) stupid once the storm finally gets here.

I mean, after all, who wants to be on Florence’s list?  Amirite?

Peace

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Life With Lilly Episode 2

Not surprisingly, #LillyNO is still trending around here.  Although I must say, she’s not at all a bad puppy.  She is without doubt a puppy though, and prone to doing the things puppies are wont to do.  But I think, of the two of us, I’m the one more in need of training.  That, however, has been put on hold.

Two weeks ago I noticed she was limping, favoring her front left leg.  It wasn’t too bad so I thought just keeping an eye on it was the best course of action.  The next morning the limp was more pronounced so I scheduled an appointment at the Vet for later that day.  X-ray’s were negative, but the Vet suggested, and I agreed, a consult with an orthopedic specialist was prudent.  Quick side note; in her first week here she went from fifteen lbs. to twenty lbs.  Inside wide-eyed emoji anywhere you like…  So, earlier this week we drove up to Greensboro for our appointment.  Now, about four days after the limp started, it stopped.  Just as quickly too, it wasn’t a gradual thing, more like flipping a switch.  That the limp resolved (three days) before the ortho appointment had no effect on my decision to take her there.  I wanted to know if it was a thing or just a random puppy mishap.  And I tended to think it was a thing.  The whole time she limped, she wanted nothing to do with play.  She’d go outside to do her business and then go right back to the door so she could go back inside and lay down.  Or is it lie down?  Either way, getting horizontal was her only goal.  But once the limping stopped, she was back to full on puppiness; bouncing off walls, chasing toys, her tail, shadows, air, you name it and she chased it.  Interspersed, of course, with totally vegging out, often mid-chase.

The ortho Vet examined her, and the X-ray from our regular Vet, and said she thought it was a soft-tissue injury eg. sprain/strain.  She did say, however, that due to potential mechanism of injury, there was a possibility of damage to the growth plate in her left “wrist” and that it needed to be monitored.  She recommended a restriction of activity (uh-huh) for another two weeks and a followup exam and X-ray in one month to see if there were any differences in her growth plate.

So there’s that.

We’ve tried to take daily walks around the downtown area, for socialization with strangers more so than for the exercise, and she seems genuinely disappointed when people choose to ignore her.  I’m more surprised than disappointed.  I mean, I know not everyone loves dogs, but look at this face?  How can you look at that and not want to give her a good ear scratch or belly rub?  Or both?  But she carries on, undaunted by the refusals of crabby people, seeking the next friendly human to shower her with attention, because, god knows, she doesn’t get any around here…

That picture, while adorable, also points to one of her puppy bad habits that we’re working on.  Namely inappropriate chewing.  The leash she is very sweetly holding in the photo, is now in two pieces.  Yup.  One night while we were sitting in the carport, watching a storm.  Lilly was laying (or is it lying?) sweetly on the door mat.  Or so I thought.  She was, of course, on her leash.  I held the other end in my hand so she wouldn’t wander off.  At one point, she got up and walked over to a rug about three feet away.  And I thought to myself “huh.  The leash never moved…”  Looking down, I saw why.  She had chewed through it.  I was not pleased.  The leash had been Sophie’s, so there was that aspect of it.  But more that I had let my guard down.  Puppy gonna puppy, ya know?  It’s on me to prevent stuff from happening and not her.  So I lost a teachable moment.

And a memento of a great dog.

Don’t get me wrong, Lilly is a great puppy in her own right.  I have to admit though, it’s hard not to try to make comparisons between Lilly and Sophie.  They share many similar traits, yet are also completely different.  And both have a firm grasp on my heart.    I’ll never understand how some people can abuse animals.  This puppy unconditionally loves anyone that showers the slightest bit of attention upon her.  The thought of someone consciously turning their back on such a devoted creature and crushing it’s very soul sickens me.

Well, that took a turn…

This post has taken a lot longer to write than the last one.  A certain puppy keeps “yelling” at me until I get on the floor and play with her.  So we play.  She’s currently terrorizing one of her squeaky toys.  And, intermittently attempting to assault my Crocs…

Ahhh puppies.

Peace

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Life With Lilly Episode 1

This may take a while to produce.  If you haven’t kept up with the latest news on the dog front (and, really?  Why not?) let me explain… no, there is too much… let me sum up…

I got a puppy last week, Lilly, a four month-old Lab mix.

***Cuteness alert***

So, as it turns out, while I knew puppies required a lot of patience, since it’s been thirteen years between puppies I had forgotten just HOW MUCH patience.  In one short week  I’m afraid Lilly now believes her name to be LillyNO.  And I’m not even joking…

Well, maybe a little.  But I think I’m still going to turn that into a hashtag.  #LillyNo has a nice ring to it, right?

And don’t get me wrong, she’s worth it, I mean look at that face for chrissakes.  She is absolutely adorable.  And pretty smart too.  We’re doing really well with potty training; she’s had three accidents in the house to date, all due to my inattentiveness rather than her inability to learn.  We work on “sit” while on our walks and I’ve reached out to a local training facility for regular, real lessons.  But there’s still much for both of us to learn.

For example, I’d really like her to learn that the metal patio chairs in the carport are not, in fact, edible.  She seems to belive they are.  When I correct her, she immediately switches from gnawing on the chair leg to licking it, something I believe to be the canine equivalent to a young child saying “I’m not touching you” while holding an outstretched finger millimeters from it’s intended sibling target.

She’s becoming quite good at verbalizing when I fail to pay ample attention to her as well.  Just this morning I got barked at two different times while trying to read the morning news online.  One bark, followed by a whine in my general direction, and a playful pose, and she’s got me on the floor with her while she chews whatever she can reach, whether appropriate or not.

We’re doing pretty well at socializing too.  She loves meeting people on our walks and prances up to them full of glee.  She’s not quite sure (tbh I’m not either) what to make of people who aren’t thrilled to meet her, but they do exist. Who doesn’t love an adorable puppy?  I don’t think I want to know the adult that doesn’t speak some kind of treacly gibberish when they meet a puppy though, so I guess it’s a good way to weed out those sociopaths.

Also?  Treacly Gibberish sounds like a great name for a British boy band, don’t you think?

Oh, here’s a side benefit.  Lilly loves to eat bugs.  This is huge around here.  Apparently the climate that brought me to this area is also popular with the insect population.  I’ve seen bugs down here that I’ve never seen before.  I’m not even joking about that either.  Most have been harmless; except for mosquitoes, of course, and the occasional ill-tempered yellow jacket.  The bugs and I have an arrangement.  Stay out of my personal space and I might not squish you.  It should be noted however, my personal space is roughly 75 yards in any direction when bugs are concerned.  Also, every time I step on one (with great alacrity I might add), I look around, half-expecting to see Edgar from Men in Black glaring at me.

“Oh.  Was that your auntie?  Then this must be your uncle.”  *Crunch*

Sorry, I got distracted there by my bug obsession.  Fwiw, I’m bringing in professional help.  With the bugs, not me.  Some ships have sailed, you know what I mean?  I’ve tried the peppermint oil treatment (courtesy of PhojoMama™) but it’s time to go nuclear on their little creepy-crawly asses.  It’s not sadistic if we’re talking about bugs, right?

Btw, this has gone much smoother than I anticipated, “someone” chose this time to nap and, timing being everything, I’ve been able to work on this uninterrupted.  In all reality, there’s probably not a significant difference in quality, but it’s a little easier to stay in the flow without having to walk away from the keyboard every couple of minutes to check on the whereabouts of a certain inquisitive puppy.  Of course the trade-off is that she’s likely building up energy reserves for a full-on assault of my sanity this afternoon.  We may have a trip to Petsmart in our future.  Just sayin’  Especially if the rain that’s forecast comes in.  Fortunately Miss Lilly loves car rides.  I bought a smaller crate for her use on road trips and she’s taken to it readily.  She can’t quite jump up and in on her own yet, although she’s getting close.  But she lays (lies?) right down on her car bed and curls up without a peep.  She’ll be making the birthday road trip home with me next month so we’ll see how she does.  I’m already planning on making it a two-day trip both ways.  So far she’s handled up to two hours with no issue, but I don’t want to press my luck with a marathon car trip for her, at least not at this age.

She’s still passed out, so I think I’m going to wrap this up and try to accomplish some kind of domestic task that I’ve put off.  Pretty sure there’s laundry in the dryer waiting for someone to fold and I’m just the guy to do it.

Peace

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Meet Lilly

Well, here we are.  I’ve been away from my keyboard for a ridiculously long time.  I’m not sure why, it’s not like I haven’t had ample fodder for a post here.  Some of them have been bouncing around my head, some have even made it to draft form, but no posts.  Today, however, I’ve got something for you.

I’ve got something for me too.

If you’ve been reading along for the last year or so (You HAVE been reading longer, right?) you may remember I had to put Sophie down last fall (pour one out to a great dog) and if you’ve ever had a pet, you know how traumatic that can be.  I told myself I’d get a puppy after I came out to central NC, it would give me something to do while I got acclimated to my new environs.  I started searching PetFinder.com daily, looking for a Lab or a Lab mix.  I found several that I liked, even went to see a couple, but, when the time came to do something, the something I chose to do was… nothing.  I just couldn’t finalize the puppy situation.  I made rationalizations all over the place; too much travel, haven’t puppy-proofed the house, that one’s too small, that one’s too, well, you get the picture.  I had a hundred reasons why.

But then I realized, and may have even mentioned it here; it wasn’t that I missed having a dog.  I missed Sophie.  And I knew it would be a disservice to any puppy I might bring in until I got that through my system.   I continued checking the website (I knew I wanted a rescue versus buying from a breeder, so…) and I pondered life without a dog.  I have to say, parts of that life are kinda nice.  No pet hair to vacuum, no cutting plans short to feed, let out, whatever, the dog, no wondering who to watch the dog for out-of-town stuff, etc.

Something just occured to me, I’ve been building to this “moment” as I’m writing and, since when I post these links to social media it always includes an image from the post and, well, the title is kind of a give-away so…  about a week ago I saw this face-

And I knew I was smitten.  I mean how cute is that? I watched her and her sister daily, wondering each morning if I’d flip to the page and see that she was off the list.  I mean, it would have been good for her, she would have found her new family, but not so much for me.  Although I really did carry an “if it’s meant to be, it will be” attitude throughout.  Further research found that this particular shelter holds events every Saturday at their local Tractor Supply store.  The fact that it was two hours away wasn’t a deterrent as far as I was concerned.

Saturday morning I found myself wrestling with my decision; do I go?  Do I pass?

I went.  It was time.

She was very shy, in a kennel with three other dogs, including her brother.  Mom is a Chocolate Lab and Dad is apparently a Hound.  In more ways than one…  Her name was “Pumpernickel” because it seems when shelters get litters in, it’s easier to name them from a theme of sorts and this litters theme was bread.  I don’t know why.  However, despite an adorable audio clip of an almost three year-old Little Diamond saying “Pumpernickel” I had decided last fall that my next dog would be named “Lilly” and so that was that.  I filled out the form and was told she’d be put on hold until they could check a reference on me with my vet in Illinois on Monday.

I passed.

So, last night I drove two hours each way to bring Lilly to her new home.  She did great last night, only one accident in the house and that was my fault.  she was sniffing around and since she had just gone out a little before that, I asssumed she was just sniffing for the sake of sniffing.  LOL.  As I write this, she’s on the floor at my feet, chewing away on one of the toys I bought for her.

She slept through the night last night without incident (don’t ask where…)(but her $50 crate with the $30 bed were not involved) and ate her breakfast like a champ.  I probably need to boost the portion a little bit, but I’m being overly cautious with that since Sophie had a bit of a weight problem and I’d like to avoid that with Lilly.  I’ve got an appointment with a local vet for her tomorrow for a checkup and whatever else she needs.  Including any puppy classes they can recommend.  I’ll be out and about socializing her as much as I can, I believe that’s important for puppies (people too) so I’d like to work on that every day with her in various situations.  She’s a very sweet, very playful pup and she’s starting to take to her new name, I think.  That will take some time, as I expect will potty training too.  Such is life with a little one.

Be prepared for an onslaught of cute puppy pics… I know, I know; low hanging fruit, right?  She is, as the kids say, adorbs and I’m fairly certain will be more than a little spoiled (see sleeping arrangements above).

I’d write more, but right now there’s a belly that’s calling out to be rubbed.  And who am I to say no?  Well, to belly rubs, at least.  I have a feeling that there is going to be a lot of “No” being heard around here for a while.  #PuppyLife #WeAreBothLearning #HereGoesNothing #WishMeLuck

Peace

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This one goes to 11

Welp, this has taken me entirely too long to get to.  I was actually a little embarrassed when I checked the site the other day to see when my last posts had been (quite a while back) and I’ve had a busy last month or so.  As a consequence, I have much to write about.  I promise not to get too wordy here though.

Kinda…

I’ve got Tom Petty blaring at me whilst I work on this, it’s a holiday weekend Saturday morning, and life, on the whole, is pretty good.  Let’s get started.

I drove back to Illinois for an extended visit last month.  And I’ve already got to back up a wee bit; my travel weekend started with a trip about three hours southwest of me to Greenville, SC for a concert.  Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit with Richard Thompson as the opener.  Great.  Concert.  My hotel was literally across the street from the venue, which was kinda sweet in and of itself, but the show was just stellar.  I’ve been a Thompson fan for over thirty years and he’s an amazing musician.  If you’re not familiar, I highly recommend checking out his music.

The morning after the concert I headed north, and, as I’d intimated earlier, I split the trip into two days.  Pretty unremarkable journey home.  That’s a good thing, btw.  Especially if you’ve read any of my previous travel foibles.  You have, right?

My time in Illinois was spent with family, splitting my time between the homes of the Oldest One and the Quiet Child, but I spent time with all the kids and littles and it was delightful.  A lot of baseball games and softball games were watched and, by and large, thoroughly enjoyed.  I even got the see the Heir To The Throne hit his first high school home run, which was cool AF.

In addition to hanging with friends and family around home, I went to Springfield with nine other members of Local 3234 (our largest contingent ever!) for the state Legislative Conference.  So I got to hang with firefighter friends/union activists from across Illinois.  Spent a little quality time with some of the elected officials there, including a couple of after-hours gatherings in local watering holes.

Sorry, no stories will come from those escapades…

I got to hang out with the guys in the high-rise district for breakfast one Sunday (one of the best experiences of firehouse life), saw several friends and relatives for coffee (not all at once), I also swung by the cemetery to “chat” with Diane and Caitlin.  To be sure, there were several people (you know who you are) I had intended to get together with, that, for one reason or another was unable to, but there will be other trips home and I’m hopeful scheduling will be a little smoother.

The visit wrapped up with the 11th birthday of the Reigning Princess, which is where this pic was taken.  I can’t believe how big these guys are getting.  Pretty handsome group, no?  Speaking of time flying, when did I turn into an old man?  That’s a rhetorical question, btw, no comments necessary.

Just sayin’

I hit the road before 5:00 AM last Monday to head back to central North Carolina.  I guess karma was in my corner after the whole Memphis excursion, as this was also a really smooth trip.  The only time I used my favorite twelve letter word was to thank a fellow motorist, one with Wyoming plates on his car, for moving out of my way, allowing me to pass him easily.  I threw out the Bruce Willis line from Die Hard, you know the one.  I felt like it was appropriate given where he was from, you know, cowboys and all.   One of the high points was a lunch stop at the Bob (don’t hate, I like it) Evans restaurant in Chillicothe, OH.

Considering the rest of the clientele, I’m guessing the median age to have been 83. #83Nation.  There was also a bonus sighting of what I believe may have been the love child of auto huckster Bob Rohrman and novelist Steven King.  Yikes.  To make my lunchtime people watching even more interesting, I’m fairly certain there was a carny convention or something in town.  Again, Yikes.  But the blueberry pancakes were just the thing to get me to my next stop, one I plan for every trip between IL and NC, Beckley, WV.  I’ve never gone through the town itself, but I think it’s similar to Asheville, NC in that it is filled with artisans and has a kind of hippy vibe to it.  The rest stop/tourist center is filled with all kinds of locally made craft-y type stuff.  Blown glass, pottery, sculptures in both wood and metal and actually really good food.  If you’re ever traveling through West Virgina on either I-64 or I-77 you must stop and check it out.  Trust me.

Finally, from the “out of the mouths of babes” file, I’d like to quote the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby (he’s 6 years old already, I guess I’ve got to come up with a new nom de plume for him) “Grandpa Joe, you live far away.”

Yes, yes I do.  Smooth trip or not, it’s a long day on the road and I was glad to be home.  Let’s see what kind of nonsense comes my way so I can share it with you here.  But in the meantime, I’m going to head out to the shed and see what I can accomplish…

Peace

PS- what with the holiday weekend and all, I want to leave you with a PSA of sorts.  No, not my usual entreaty to not drink and drive, although, obvs.  Instead I’d like to ask you to take a minute to remember why this holiday exists.  Quite literally, thousands have given their lives to allow us the freedoms we take for granted today.  Let’s do our part to honor their memories and, to quote Labor Activist Mother Jones “Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living.”

Again, Peace

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Leadership. And Lack Of Same. Oh Yeah, Bonus Weather Update Too…

The good news is; the ground is too warm and it’s melting as soon as it hits.  The bad news is; it’s snowing again in central North Carolina.  I know some will take joy at those last two sentences, you know who you are, (wtf indeed) but I figure since I have, on occasion, weather shamed here, I’ve got to own up to the shite weather too so…

This one has percolated far too long so I’m just gonna move on and let it go where it may cause I need to post something for chrissakes.  Bear in mind the timeline is a wee bit off, but still.

Before I get to the titular topic, I’m gonna drop some, well I wouldn’t exactly call it filler, but rather, the events of my last few days.

As I mentioned at the end of my last post, I’m (*timeline alert*) currently traveling via Amtrak back to North Carolina from Washington D.C. where several hundred union firefighters met with our elected officials to promote legislation to try to improve working conditions, health, and safety or firefighters across the country.  It’s an annual pilgrimage where, in addition to fighting the “good fight” we also get the chance to catch up with our brothers and sisters from across the country.

Let me amend something from the previous paragraph… Due to track work, we’re currently crawling through Richmond, VA on the way back to NC.  Grand scheme of things it’s not that big of a deal, it’s not like I have any plans this evening so it really doesn’t matter if I get back later than I planned.  Just an inconvenience.  Over all, I’ve really enjoyed this trip to and from D.C. and I’ll definitely look for more trips to take by rail in the future.

As with air travel, you cross paths with a unique cross-section of America when you use mass transit.  For instance –

I witnessed one of the more unique drink combinations ever on that same leg of the trip.  The woman sitting next to me for a couple of hours ordered, and I swear to you I’m taking no literary license with this; a hot tea with 2 creamers, 2 honey packets, 4 Splenda, and 2 sugars.  Again, I’m not even joking.  Talk about diversification of your sugar portfolio (h/t to Kent for that line btw)

Also, I continue to be amazed at the attire some people choose for their travels.  Again, no throwing of stones intended, and I get it that you choose comfort over almost anything else, but what part of your brain says it’s ok to wear, essentially, pajamas on public mass transportation?  And if you’re that committed to comfort, why not go all the way and leave the gym shoes at home?  Slippers would be the perfect match to your jammies, no?

Now that I’ve got that out-of-the-way, let’s talk about Leaders.

Leaders lead.  It’s what they do, which makes for an easy way to title them.  Leaders, when they no longer lead, are, imho, no longer leaders.  I can point, with relative ease, to an example that hits close to home for me and also for many of my regular readers.  My union.  Not at the local level and not at the state level.  Those two groups are both blessed with dedicated, hard-working, responsive, and responsible leadership.

Not so much at the national level.

Throughout the entirety of my career in the fire service, I was taught that leaders lead.  They decide things.  Sometimes they are faced with two or more awful options and must choose the most palatable.  Or the least offensive.  And they need to prepare, both themselves and those for whom they’re charged with advocating, for whatever outcome their decision elicits.  That’s what leaders do.  They don’t “sit one out” they choose.  If they get pushback from the rank and file, they explain their rationale.

I may have mentioned this here at some point over the last couple years, but I feel strongly enough about this that, frankly, I don’t care and I’ll gladly repeat myself.  Without getting too much into my personal politics (and if you spend any time here, you probably know what way I lean) in the build up to the 2016 election, my union chose not to endorse anyone.  Neither candidate.  In my time in this great union, I have been told, countless times – “we support those that support us, regardless of whether their name has a ‘D’ or ‘R’ after it.” and I have taken that very phrase back to my local as well as at numerous meetings across the state of Illinois as a member of our Labor History committee.  And I believed those words.  They were important to me.  I know a lot of guys on-the-job that are far more conservative than I am.  And that’s fine.  I respect your right to an opposing opinion on many topics.  But, to me, the opinion that outweighs them all is this one.  Does a candidate or an incumbent politician support my position as a member of Organized Labor?  That’s the one that gets my vote.

You know what?  I can’t even finish on this leadership (or lack of same) rant.  It’s frickin’ SNOWING here.  In North Carolina.  On March 21st.  The day after the Vernal Equinox.  Sure it’ll get “up” into the mid 40’s today but come on.

Sigh.

Peace.

PS – As I wrote here I was asked to contribute a regular column at the official retired guy magazine for the Illinois Association of Retired Firefighters.  I was, of course, thrilled at the offer.  I also felt like they should get some kind of exclusivity so I declined to post that column here.  However, since the newest edition is currently going to press (sounds so official doesn’t it?) I figure it’s probably ok to share my pearls of wisdom *snark* here now.  So that’ll be coming up in a couple days…

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It’s A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Apologies to Fred Rogers, but I liked the sound of that title.

I may have alluded to this in earlier posts but, despite a recent downturn in temperatures here this past week, to my mind, Spring has sprung here in central North Carolina.  This, btw, works for me.  The oak trees haven’t started to bud yet, but a good number of plants in the neighborhood have started budding if not actually blooming as evidenced by this arrangement made from the neighbors Magnolia Bush – 

Lovely, no?  In addition to the Magnolia, which btw has an incredibly short bloom life, I’ve got a Camellia in my back yard that is also producing blooms like crazy – but in a tech flashback to a couple of months ago, I’m unable to share the picture with you.  Trust me, it’s beautiful… (expletive deleted WordPress…)

Here’s another thing I like the sound (kind of a rocky segue, I know, but whatevs.) of… this bird and if anyone can tell me what kind of bird it is, I’d appreciate it.  I’m not John J. Audubon-y enough to look it up, but I’m a little curious what kind of bird serenades me most mornings while I drink my coffee in the carport.  I’ve played this clip back for the birds sometimes, usually getting a response from him (her?) so far without getting dive-bombed as an interloper attempting to take over the little guys territory.  Although I must say I get a kick out of him (I’m pretty sure it’s a him, since I vaguely recall from somewhere that only male birds sing, either for prospective mates or to mark out boundaries) peeking between the branches of the not-yet-leafed-out bush he sits in to see where/who the other bird is.

But wait, there’s more from the This Week In Nature file…

Do female Robins look exactly like male Robins?  There’s a couple that frequent the neighbors back yard that are either –

A.) In a running territorial pissing match or

B.) in the build-up to an avian mating ritual

I can’t tell which.  They seem to stay in pretty close proximity to each other, hopping around the yard looking for worms.  If one flies up to the roof, the other isn’t far behind and usually lands within a few feet of the first or occasionally on a higher part of the roof.  I’ve even seen them tangle mid-air in a flurry of flapping wings and tangled feet that lasts as long as thirty seconds, rising up to fifteen feet or so in the air and falling almost to the ground before they disengage and land, again, within a few feet of each other.  That inability to differentiate between courtship and combat probably speaks to my inability to maintain long-term relationships as much as it does to my lack of bird knowledge fwiw.

Just sayin.

I’m gonna leave this one shortish, I’m currently on Amtrak headed back to North Carolina.  Since I’ll be relatively captive here on the train for another five hours or so, I’m going to try and use some of the time productively ish and recap my last few days.

Here goes nuthin’

Peace

 

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Now Is The Winter Of My Content

I know I said in an earlier post I wanted to avoid weather shaming, but Geez Louise, I was sitting out here in the carport this morning in shorts and a t-shirt being serenaded by neighborhood birds, so it’s kinda tough not to.  Weather shame, that is.  Besides, I needed fodder for a post so, you know, low hanging fruit, right?

Winter apparently ends in February here.  Buds are starting to appear on various plants already and while working at clearing away the last vestiges of fallen leaves yesterday (in jeans and a t-shirt) I was sweating my butt off.  Figuratively, that is.  I still have a butt, so…

I was actually back in Illinois last weekend, a whirlwind tour if you will, coming back in for Local 3234’s annual Recognition Dinner.  A wonderful evening celebrating the guys that retired last year, myself included.  I had a wonderful evening catching up with people I’ve spent a great deal of time with over the last 25 years or so.  Many laughs were shared, a tall tale or two were told, and a bunch of hugs were distributed throughout the room.  I even got a promise for some of Bob’s homemade, deep dish pizza when I come back in May for an extended visit.  At least I think it was a promise.  If it wasn’t, well Bob, you’re on the spot now, so I guess you’ve gotta come through.

Speaking of amazing food… among the high points (there were many) was a special delivery from one of my bonus kids, Courtney.  Yes, you guessed it, RVCB’S!  Amazing as always, I just popped the last one this morning.  And like the old Folger’s coffee ad, they were good to the last drop.  Since it took a Pony Express type delivery I especially liked the threatening tag on the package, something to the effect of “If your name isn’t Joel keep your hands off the goods” which made me literally lol when it was pointed out to me.

In true Illinois fashion the weather was not great.  Several inches of snow in the days leading up to the dinner and daily high temperatures in the teens for the duration of my brief visit.  The coldest I saw was 8º with a wind chill of -3º and I have to say, it was ok.

That last statement gave me pause, because if you know me IRL, you know how much I like to bitch about cold weather.  *Hint- the correct answer is “a lot” *  After giving the matter a little more thought, I came to the conclusion that it’s kind of like hitting your thumb with a hammer.  It hurts.  But if you only do it once, the pain passes relatively quickly.  I was only in town for a couple of days and so was only briefly exposed to Illinois winter.  Unlike my entire life prior to this winter, when my thumb was hit roughly 27 times a day for each and every one of the approximately six month-long Illinois winters I ever experienced.

Several hours were also spent with the kids and the littles on Sunday.  Almost everyone knew I was coming in, so we all figured it would be a good way to see each other and arrangements were made to meet up at the home of the Boy Child and PhojoMama™.  I say “almost” everyone because the Quiet Child decided to leave my arrival as a surprise for the Reigning Princess.  When they arrived, RP stood in the hallway for five or ten seconds staring at me before she broke into a full on sprint, launching herself at me for an enormous hug.  It was awesome.  Another awesome part of the weekend was having the Little Diamond spend probably more time on my lap Sunday than she had cumulatively for her entire life to that point.  It was just a really nice way to wrap up a great weekend.

Speaking of wrapping up (smooth, huh?) it’s about time for me to head over to the “Y” because, you know, fitness is my middle name.

Peace

PS- because, well, you know…  Happy birthday baby!  I hope you two are doing everything you love.  Much like every other day if it’s like we’ve always been told it’s like.  And I won’t mention any numbers because my Mom didn’t raise any dummies.

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The Return of Fables From the Firehouse

I make no excuses for the way my brain works (or doesn’t, depending on your perspective) and this is a fine example of the maelstrom in my head bouncing from thought to thought to thought…

I was listening to a playlist the other morning, and a song came up that always takes me back to when the Oldest One was about six or seven years old.  The song “I Know What Boys Like” by The Waitresses has always made me chuckle and I still remember the first time I heard her singing along to the chorus.  The mixed emotions of her carrying the tune pretty faithfully (Hey!  Maybe she’ll grow up to be a singer and make millions!) blending against my precious little daughter singing “I know what boys like, I know what guys want.”

Insert wide-eyed emoji >here<

That got me thinking about other things from “back in the day” and how things have changed, for the better, around the firehouse.  No, not by my leaving, smartass, I’m talking about the difference in how we protected ourselves then versus now.

*Salt Alert*  When I started in the fire service, the soot on your gear was viewed as almost a badge of honor.  The nastier it looked, the more you had seen/done/accomplished.  And it was the same way to some extent with air packs (SCBA’s) in that we never wore them at, for example, car fires.  Why would we need one for a car fire, we’re outside for crying out loud.  And there was no small amount of new guy shaming to try to impress upon them just how much machismo we had because of these beliefs and how they needed to be “just as manly” as we were.

I vividly (well, as vividly as my memory will allow) recall a garage fire from late summer or early fall of 2002.  I know it was the summer of 2002 because we had a “new guy” with us and I checked with him to see when he started.  The call came in late in the evening; a garage on fire about two blocks from the firehouse.  Vin and I on the ambulance, John, Andy and Zig on the engine.  We got there and sure enough, the garage was on fire.  It hadn’t gotten through the roof or the overhead door yet, but I think it had taken out a window before we got there and was blowing pretty good.  Not too much, mind you , but what you would call a nice little fire.  If it’s not your stuff that’s burning.  Andy got the water supply squared away, John checked on the hazards, and Vin and I took the handline, and Zig, to the garage to put out the fire.  As they got the line and themselves ready to go in at the side door, I walked around to the back to see what all we had.  I found a second, smaller overhead door on the back wall and tried it to see if it was locked.  It wasn’t, and since I figured the line was on the verge of going in, I opened it to lift the smoke for Vin and Zig.  I stuck my head in and could see the fire towards the front of the garage but didn’t see those two inside yet.  I came around to the side and saw them kneeling at the door, Zig trying to get his mask right and Vinnie berating him for not being ready to go.  Berating may be too strong a word, but he was definitely giving him shit for it.  I, of course, joined right in.  Because, new guy, you know?  I don’t remember the exact words but it was something to the effect of “you don’t even need your mask, it’s only a garage fire and the smoke lifted when I opened the door, Nancy.”  Or maybe Sally.  I don’t remember which, but I’m pretty sure I used a woman’s name when I yelled at him for not being in yet.  To his credit, Zig held his ground and went “on air” before he went inside.  I wanted to make sure and put that in there, cause I know his Mom reads this from time-to-time.  Despite our “best efforts” your oldest made sure he was protected.  We made quick work of the fire, quicker than I realized, because as we were walking back up the driveway toward the fire engine we were met by the guys from the ladder truck bemoaning the fact that we put the fire out before they got there.  That’s always the goal btw, for engine guys at least, so we were pretty pleased with ourselves.  Still, looking back, it was pretty dumb on our part to go into a fire without the safety of the air packs on our backs.  That was kind of the culture back then though.  You’d come out of a fire, blow the accumulated crap out of your nose, and if the fire was out, light up a cigarette, because why not?

Fortunately, times change.  And I have to tip my hat to the DGFD and the progressive way they got back-up gear for everyone on the department along with extractors so we could wash our gear when we got back from a fire instead of wearing that shit for weeks after.  I’m not sure, but I think we were one of the first departments in our area to have those.  And I have to believe they made a difference.  Without getting all scientific on you, studies have found that a number of different bad things (medical term) leach into our skin through the gear that protects us and the sooner you get those bad things (medical term) off the gear and off your skin, the better off you’ll be.  I know a lot of places are now carrying softcloth wipes to clean your skin as soon as you get back to the engine, to further reduce the risk of down-the-road cancer.  Whatever it takes.  I’m all in favor of these guys making the workplace safer for themselves and their loved ones.  Without going too far off on a tangent, I think about things like this when I hear someone talk about how much “better” it was before, well, fill in the blank, you know?  The reality is, we’re almost always better off now.

As I said, almost.  This photo just came in courtesy of Dan T. showing a new guy and his attempt at chopping an onion.  And maybe his finger.  Also, note the onion skin still in place on said onion

Sigh.  New guys.  At least they’re entertaining.

 

Peace.

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Hey Siri…

So, since we all can agree that, to quote a very wise woman, live music is better live, I saw some the other night.  Live music that is.  A band by the name of Devil Makes Three (h/t to McG) was playing at venue about an hour from me called the Haw River Ballroom.  Great place btw, in the dye room of an old cotton mill, and somewhere I’ll definitely keep on  my watch list for future concerts.  The concert was pretty great as both acts put out excellent vibes.  The openers have, quite possibly, the longest name of any touring band – The Huntress and Holder of Hands – but they were really quite good.  One of the songs that stuck with me, actually more than anything the headliners did, was a cover of a wonderful Cranberries song that kind of slid out of my memory.  Just a really nice night.

Now the town this place is in is pretty small, about 1,600 people, and I’d never heard of Saxapahaw, NC before so I pulled it up when Mike first mentioned the band to me.  Looked pretty simple to get to, a couple state highways and only a few turns.  Piece of cake.  However.  Since I’m still pretty new out here, if I go anywhere other than Asheboro itself, I typically punch the address into a map app just to make sure I don’t miss a turn or something.  I’ve always been pretty good with directions but why mess around, right?  So I got in the car, typed in the destination and took a look before I headed east.  I looked at the map and noticed right away it was different from what I had pictured in my head.  Pretty much straight-line diagonal from my house to the venue and I thought from looking at the map that I would need to backtrack slightly to get there.

Now, if your history with Siri is anything like mine, you’d appreciate the sense of trepidation I felt right there.  I thought I’d already shared my Siri-induced misadventure on my way out here, but I just checked and apparently I haven’t.

Yet.

I got around Winston-Salem and had been going Siri-less for several hours since I had been out this way a few times and was fairly confident I could find my way to the hotel in Asheboro.  Until I caught a detour.  Since I was driving and didn’t want to pull over (an obvious sign of weakness *snark*) I said to myself “I have a smartphone, I can just talk to Siri and she’ll give me directions to my hotel.”

BAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I received directions to a hotel in Lexington, KY.  Several times.  I also received directions to a Waffle House in Burlington, NC.  More than once.  I received directions to so many different places and never less than sixty miles from where I wanted to be.  This, as you may imagine, displeased me.  Especially so close to the end of 14 hour drive from northern Illinois.  Fun fact.  Did you know that launching a profanity-laced tirade at Siri will cause her to, not unlike an actual human being, shut down?  She has a particular dislike for being called a word that rhymes with “brotherclucker” fwiw.  I think Apple missed the boat in not pointing out that attribute.  She’s so lifelike!

Needless to say, I finally pulled over and typed in the address to my hotel, arriving without further Siri-related incident about 45 minutes later.

So there was a brief hesitation as I left the house under Siri’s guidance.  I drove through, what I assume was a pretty bucolic part of the state.  And I’m not throwing stones with that, I mean after all I grew up in the Greater Burlington Metropolitan area (*more snark*) but since it was, you know, dark, I couldn’t really tell.  Also the two-lane, curvy, country roads were not conducive to the wandering driving eye I picked up from riding in a car with my Dad during my formative years.  All in know is, on the way home I saw, probably fewer than five cars, until I got back on the state highway about 30 miles later.

All in all it was an outstanding way to spend a Thursday evening.  The next concert on the books isn’t until April, I’m gonna have to work on something before that.

Time to search the interwebz!

Peace.