Picture Perfect
Hello World,
Happy June! There's no sense in complaining about the weather around here, heaven knows, because just when you think that it can't possibly get any worse, that's exactly what it does, and apparently without irony. Of course, I can't say that adding irony to the mix would be any sort of improvement, in fact, if I was looking to improve the personality of weather, I think remorse would be a much more appropriate trait to develop, and that goes double for the dinosaurs, believe me. But it seems that we are stuck with the weather the way it is, and no amount of complaint is going to make a dent in it at this point, and more's the pity, I'm sure. I keep saying to Bill that the time will come soon enough when we're all complaining about how hot it is, but so far, I keep saying that through chattering teeth and stamping my feet to keep warm. I can tell you that if this June was a magazine, I certainly wouldn't renew my subscription, and that's putting it mildly.
Not complaining about the weather, and also apparently without irony, the flowering plants and shrubs around our yard seem to be taking quite a shine to it. There's not really all that much that happens in our yard at this time of year, once all the spring bulbs and early blooming trees have finished, and all the regular trees fill in so much that there's too much shade for a lot of things. But we've had some early roses, whose fragrant beauty is always welcome, including our sprawling wild roses that seem to be everywhere at once. Even the new rosebush that I planted last year in the infamous "rosebush graveyard" came back for another season, so that was a pleasant surprise. The mountain laurel and flowering almond are putting on quite a show, with dainty pink flowers in profusion. Meanwhile the lawn, which should technically be grass, is littered with buttercups everywhere, their jaunty yellow flowers like dappled sunlight in every direction and in any kind of weather. The backyard is awash with clover, and some other sort of ground cover with tiny purple flowers, that I think is too pretty to be a weed, but obviously spreads too fast to be anything desirable. Speaking of undesirable, if there was any market for false asters, we'd have it made, because we have them in abundance, and beyond, and as for false chrysanthemums, even more so. Interestingly, with the buttercups all doing so well, I was surprised not to see the little creeping buttercup that I brought home from church last year as a research project, although it must be said, it would have been easier to keep track of that if I had any idea where in the yard I had planted it, so I could keep an eye on it. Like so many things in this world, that may be lost to posterity, and if it doesn't come back by itself, I will certainly not know where to look for it.
Speaking of being lost to posterity, one thing that is not, and in fact, was unexpectedly resurrected from obscurity, is the neighbor's ugly fence. I was surprised that I couldn't find any record of it on my computer, because I remember at the time complaining about it long and hard, and I'm sure that anyone who knew me at the time heard all about it, because I certainly didn't keep it to myself. When a search of even my oldest files didn't turn it up, I was completely stumped, and just didn't know where else to look. Then it occurred to me that I have so many pictures of the fence over the years without even trying, because it just seems to be in the background of so many pictures that I take in our yard, of flowers, or snow, or even packing up the car to go on vacation. So I figured that I could look back through old pictures to the earliest pictures I have with the fence in the background, and then whatever pictures are before that with no fence, that would narrow down the timeframe for the fence to have been installed. That sounds like a lot of drudgery, but actually it was pretty quick going, because it was easy to skip through most pictures and only look at the ones with flowers, snow or the driveway. Ironically, and I don't use that term lightly, it turned out even better than I anticipated, because apparently we knew the fence was imminent, and so I have a bunch of pictures just of the new fence, complete with before, after, and some half-way. So now I can state for the record that the neighbor's ugly fence was installed in August 1993, which makes it older than I thought it was, but even still, I think a fence (probably) that expensive should be able to stand up without its slats falling out for more than 15 years, or I'd be complaining to my fence company, if it was my fence. And I would like to remind everyone that this was back in the days of real film that you had to pay for, and pay to have it developed and printed and all that jazz, and here I have 10 pictures of the neighbor's ugly fence, including two that were nothing but the empty space where the hedges had been removed and the fence hadn't even been put in yet. So that was an interesting stroll down Memory Lane, and a good use of some old-fashioned research to find the right answer after all these years.
While we're on the subject of research, this year's Belmont Stakes might be one for the books. It really is true that the filly who won the Preakness, Rachel Alexandra, will not be running at the Belmont, which invites the possibility that Mine That Bird could win two races out of the Triple Crown, since he already won the Kentucky Derby. If he does, he could have legions of trivia buffs set their favorite search engines buzzing with queries about any previous "Jockey Triple Crown," which would be the same jockey riding the winning horse in all three races, but the horses are not the same. So far, the same jockey has won the Kentucky Derby aboard Mine That Bird, and the Preakness atop Rachel Alexandra. Now he'll be back on Mine That Bird for the Belmont, and while the horse can't win the Triple Crown at this point, it might be a red-letter day for the jockey, and a fascinating tidbit of "horse-lore" to thrill the trivia-minded through the ages. But the Belmont is usually the spoiler to Triple Crown hopefuls, so we'll see if Mine That Bird can turn the tide and ride into history, however historically off-handed it might be.
In a surprising turn of events, especially for the way the weather has been lately in the local area, it must be said that the Flag Brigade had no trouble flying the colors, upstairs and downstairs, on both Memorial Day (observed) on May 25, and traditional Memorial Day on May 30, and long may they wave. It can't be taken for granted that the Flag Brigade is going to remember to put the flags out on the correct day, or once having done so, to remember to take them back in again that same evening, so this was indeed not one, but two red-letter days in the life of the Flag Brigade around here, that's for sure. And on the topic of notable days, I happened to be standing in the hallway and discussing weighty business matters with a co-worker, but as so often happens, after a while it devolved into more of a comic interlude full of quips and jests, which had both of us laughing. At one point, the senior bookkeeper stepped out of her nearby office, wagged her finger at us, and announced in a mock stern voice: "Do you mind? I'm trying to work here!" To which I retorted: "Well, that would be a first." She laughed. So in spite of the weather, I guess it's safe to say that the Age of Irony has not passed, and remorse is only for those people whose telegram has gone astray and they have to send the message again. I realize that's a hopelessly outmoded analogy that is sure to be lost on the young whipper-snappers of today, but just like finding the fence installation pictures from 1993, sometimes the old ways are the best after all.
Elle
Happy June! There's no sense in complaining about the weather around here, heaven knows, because just when you think that it can't possibly get any worse, that's exactly what it does, and apparently without irony. Of course, I can't say that adding irony to the mix would be any sort of improvement, in fact, if I was looking to improve the personality of weather, I think remorse would be a much more appropriate trait to develop, and that goes double for the dinosaurs, believe me. But it seems that we are stuck with the weather the way it is, and no amount of complaint is going to make a dent in it at this point, and more's the pity, I'm sure. I keep saying to Bill that the time will come soon enough when we're all complaining about how hot it is, but so far, I keep saying that through chattering teeth and stamping my feet to keep warm. I can tell you that if this June was a magazine, I certainly wouldn't renew my subscription, and that's putting it mildly.
Not complaining about the weather, and also apparently without irony, the flowering plants and shrubs around our yard seem to be taking quite a shine to it. There's not really all that much that happens in our yard at this time of year, once all the spring bulbs and early blooming trees have finished, and all the regular trees fill in so much that there's too much shade for a lot of things. But we've had some early roses, whose fragrant beauty is always welcome, including our sprawling wild roses that seem to be everywhere at once. Even the new rosebush that I planted last year in the infamous "rosebush graveyard" came back for another season, so that was a pleasant surprise. The mountain laurel and flowering almond are putting on quite a show, with dainty pink flowers in profusion. Meanwhile the lawn, which should technically be grass, is littered with buttercups everywhere, their jaunty yellow flowers like dappled sunlight in every direction and in any kind of weather. The backyard is awash with clover, and some other sort of ground cover with tiny purple flowers, that I think is too pretty to be a weed, but obviously spreads too fast to be anything desirable. Speaking of undesirable, if there was any market for false asters, we'd have it made, because we have them in abundance, and beyond, and as for false chrysanthemums, even more so. Interestingly, with the buttercups all doing so well, I was surprised not to see the little creeping buttercup that I brought home from church last year as a research project, although it must be said, it would have been easier to keep track of that if I had any idea where in the yard I had planted it, so I could keep an eye on it. Like so many things in this world, that may be lost to posterity, and if it doesn't come back by itself, I will certainly not know where to look for it.
Speaking of being lost to posterity, one thing that is not, and in fact, was unexpectedly resurrected from obscurity, is the neighbor's ugly fence. I was surprised that I couldn't find any record of it on my computer, because I remember at the time complaining about it long and hard, and I'm sure that anyone who knew me at the time heard all about it, because I certainly didn't keep it to myself. When a search of even my oldest files didn't turn it up, I was completely stumped, and just didn't know where else to look. Then it occurred to me that I have so many pictures of the fence over the years without even trying, because it just seems to be in the background of so many pictures that I take in our yard, of flowers, or snow, or even packing up the car to go on vacation. So I figured that I could look back through old pictures to the earliest pictures I have with the fence in the background, and then whatever pictures are before that with no fence, that would narrow down the timeframe for the fence to have been installed. That sounds like a lot of drudgery, but actually it was pretty quick going, because it was easy to skip through most pictures and only look at the ones with flowers, snow or the driveway. Ironically, and I don't use that term lightly, it turned out even better than I anticipated, because apparently we knew the fence was imminent, and so I have a bunch of pictures just of the new fence, complete with before, after, and some half-way. So now I can state for the record that the neighbor's ugly fence was installed in August 1993, which makes it older than I thought it was, but even still, I think a fence (probably) that expensive should be able to stand up without its slats falling out for more than 15 years, or I'd be complaining to my fence company, if it was my fence. And I would like to remind everyone that this was back in the days of real film that you had to pay for, and pay to have it developed and printed and all that jazz, and here I have 10 pictures of the neighbor's ugly fence, including two that were nothing but the empty space where the hedges had been removed and the fence hadn't even been put in yet. So that was an interesting stroll down Memory Lane, and a good use of some old-fashioned research to find the right answer after all these years.
While we're on the subject of research, this year's Belmont Stakes might be one for the books. It really is true that the filly who won the Preakness, Rachel Alexandra, will not be running at the Belmont, which invites the possibility that Mine That Bird could win two races out of the Triple Crown, since he already won the Kentucky Derby. If he does, he could have legions of trivia buffs set their favorite search engines buzzing with queries about any previous "Jockey Triple Crown," which would be the same jockey riding the winning horse in all three races, but the horses are not the same. So far, the same jockey has won the Kentucky Derby aboard Mine That Bird, and the Preakness atop Rachel Alexandra. Now he'll be back on Mine That Bird for the Belmont, and while the horse can't win the Triple Crown at this point, it might be a red-letter day for the jockey, and a fascinating tidbit of "horse-lore" to thrill the trivia-minded through the ages. But the Belmont is usually the spoiler to Triple Crown hopefuls, so we'll see if Mine That Bird can turn the tide and ride into history, however historically off-handed it might be.
In a surprising turn of events, especially for the way the weather has been lately in the local area, it must be said that the Flag Brigade had no trouble flying the colors, upstairs and downstairs, on both Memorial Day (observed) on May 25, and traditional Memorial Day on May 30, and long may they wave. It can't be taken for granted that the Flag Brigade is going to remember to put the flags out on the correct day, or once having done so, to remember to take them back in again that same evening, so this was indeed not one, but two red-letter days in the life of the Flag Brigade around here, that's for sure. And on the topic of notable days, I happened to be standing in the hallway and discussing weighty business matters with a co-worker, but as so often happens, after a while it devolved into more of a comic interlude full of quips and jests, which had both of us laughing. At one point, the senior bookkeeper stepped out of her nearby office, wagged her finger at us, and announced in a mock stern voice: "Do you mind? I'm trying to work here!" To which I retorted: "Well, that would be a first." She laughed. So in spite of the weather, I guess it's safe to say that the Age of Irony has not passed, and remorse is only for those people whose telegram has gone astray and they have to send the message again. I realize that's a hopelessly outmoded analogy that is sure to be lost on the young whipper-snappers of today, but just like finding the fence installation pictures from 1993, sometimes the old ways are the best after all.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 8:01 PM
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