June Bugs
Hello World,
Happy June! It's hard to believe that we've actually entered the sixth month of the year, and no turning back now. Every day brings new joys in the garden, as the mountain laurel has graced us with its dainty pink flowers all over, and the yard is awash with buttercups in earnest, in spite of the landscapers' best efforts. Also the roses are unfolding on every side, and here we have everything from the creamiest pale pink to the deepest velvety maroon, and even a screaming orange called Gingersnap, that we bought in honor of our beloved princess. They've now been joined by the riotous explosion of wild roses, that no amount of landscapers' ministrations will ever tame. All over town, you also see that now is the time for lovely irises, for those people lucky enough to have them, in every color of the rainbow, although purple is still my favorite. We were surprised to see tall stalks of phlox scattered about in our yard, as Bill and I both agree that it's way too early for that, but there's no arguing with that indescribably exquisite fragrance. The rest of us may be complaining about the weather, but apparently the flowers are eating it up. Speaking of weather, all last week, we had the most ridiculously sweltering weather, exactly like the dog days of August, except 3 months too early, and just much too hot, too soon. Fortunately, Bill had a plan, and put in the window air conditioners when it was 90 degrees inside and out, with humidity off the charts, thanks not. Naturally, this did the trick, and the temperature dropped 20 degrees in one fell swoop. In fact, I wonder that it didn't usher in a whole new Ice Age on the spot, so I guess there must be something to this global warming stuff after all.
Last weekend was Memorial Day, of course, the unofficial start of the summer season, with all the transient pleasures it has to offer, of which one is my sister's historic barbecue for hundreds of their far-flung friends and acquaintances, plus the myriad strangers who just get sucked up into the vortex of its gravitational pull. I usually pick up my other sister at the bus station and bring her with me, but this time around she was unable to attend, so Bill was kind enough to fill in for her, and did an admirable job, considering this was his first time at the rodeo, as they say. We left the rodeo clowns behind, and stopped at Denny's on the way home, where they were complaining that there was no air conditioning, but that didn't slow us down a bit. At the time, there was not another living soul in the place besides us, so we got very attentive service, I can tell you that. I wanted to try one of their newly introduced tropical drinks, but we found out that it wasn't available yet, even though it was being advertised right there on their placemats, so that was disappointing. But I don't like to complain because it seems like going to Denny's is getting to be almost an embarrassment of riches for us lately, since we went on Easter at the end of April, again after the grand opening at Shanti-Bithi last month, and here again on Memorial Day. That's the kind of triple threat I can live with, believe me.
I intended to fly the flags on Monday for Memorial Day, which was also coincidentally May 30, traditionally known as Decoration Day, where usually these fall on two different days. But I thought the weather was questionable in the morning, and we were planning to be out all day, so I reluctantly gave up on the idea, because I didn't want to come home to the sight of wet and bedraggled Old Glory, and the sound of the aggrieved gray-headed Barbara Frietchie spinning in her fictional grave. I suppose it was just as well, because everyone know that we can't count on the poor addled brain cells (both of them) of the Flag Brigade anymore, to put the flags out and bring them back in again, even if we just assign one task each to G.I. Joe and Beetle Bailey, so they only have to remember one instead of both. Obviously what I need is for one of those brain cells to be Barbara Frietchie, and the other to be Betsy Ross, and then the Flag Brigade would really be in business, by golly.
If Memorial Day weekend has come and gone, as indeed it has, then that means that the venerable Indy 500 has also, roaring off into the sunset for another year. There was almost a fairy tale finish by a rookie, who practically led the whole way from pole to pole, that is, until fate stepped in. Our friends at Sports Illustrated describe it this way:
=========================
INDIANAPOLIS (AP) -- JR Hildebrand was one turn away from winning the Indianapolis 500 and within sight of the checkered flag when the 23-year-old rookie made the ultimate mistake.
Leading by almost 4 seconds with a lap to go, Hildebrand skidded high into the wall on the final turn, and Dan Wheldon drove past to claim an improbable second Indy 500 win Sunday in his first race of the year.
The first three turns went smoothly. Then Hildebrand moved to the outside and lost control, slamming the wall to a collective gasp from the crowd of 250,000. "I got up in the marbles and that was it,'' Hildebrand said.
=========================
I love that part about the marbles, whatever that means, but actually, my personal favorite account of the race is from our other friends at http://www.bleacherreport.com/
==========================
On the final turn of the final lap in the 2011 Indy 500, rookie J.R. Hildebrand wrecked. Dan Wheldon who had finished second in the race the past two years took advantage of Hildebrand's error to win the race.
The finish was under review to see if Wheldon passed Hildebrand before the yellow flag was waived.
It took hours after the race and no announcement was been made on the winner. They delay made it look like an overturn was possible.
==========================
"Waived?" "Was been?" "They delay?" Do I hear the ghost of Casey Stengel wondering, "Can't anybody here speak this language?" It's beginning to make me think that we may have finally discovered the source for the excerpts in the Best Bets section of our local newspaper's TV listings, where this kind of thing is all too common. Here's one that the spell-checker is never going to help you with:
======================
"TOY STORY 3"
As Andy leaves for college the toys are
pack and donated to a daycare but when
things get a little too rough they plan a
daring escape so they can go home
======================
Now, I understand that space is at a premium in this section, but leaving out all of the punctuation makes this description almost impossible to understand. And if the punctuation didn't save enough room, they also left the end off of "packed" and whatever the noun was supposed to be that would have been modified by "daycare," that is, if only it was there when the modifier was looking for it, alas. It was another holiday for the spell-checker in this next entry:
=====================
"PARANORMAL STATE"
A mirror inexplicably levitates and
hurdles itself to the ground
=====================
I realize this is paranormal stuff, but I can't even begin to imagine how double-jointed something would have to be in order to "hurdle itself," which might be considered as a new Olympic sport - The 100 Meter Hurdle Yourself - except for the fact that it would be impossible. It shouldn't take paranormal powers to come up with the word "hurtle" in the place of "hurdle," but I admit that the supernatural is not my field of expertise. The spell-checker is also not going to help you with this one:
==============
"CHASE"
The Marshals track down a prison escapee
who is hoping to find proof of his evidence
===============
I'm thinking it would be more useful for him to find proof of his innocence, rather than his evidence, but here again, law enforcement is not my specialty, so I may be wrong. The puzzling part is these two words aren't even homophones (like cereal and serial, for example) so you can't help but wonder how they still managed to mix them up. Heck, that would be like me mixing up my only two brain cells ..... hmmm, good old whats-his-name ..... uh, you know who I mean ..... oh, it's right here on the tip of my tongue ..... G.I. Frietchie and Beetle Ross, that must be them.
Elle
Happy June! It's hard to believe that we've actually entered the sixth month of the year, and no turning back now. Every day brings new joys in the garden, as the mountain laurel has graced us with its dainty pink flowers all over, and the yard is awash with buttercups in earnest, in spite of the landscapers' best efforts. Also the roses are unfolding on every side, and here we have everything from the creamiest pale pink to the deepest velvety maroon, and even a screaming orange called Gingersnap, that we bought in honor of our beloved princess. They've now been joined by the riotous explosion of wild roses, that no amount of landscapers' ministrations will ever tame. All over town, you also see that now is the time for lovely irises, for those people lucky enough to have them, in every color of the rainbow, although purple is still my favorite. We were surprised to see tall stalks of phlox scattered about in our yard, as Bill and I both agree that it's way too early for that, but there's no arguing with that indescribably exquisite fragrance. The rest of us may be complaining about the weather, but apparently the flowers are eating it up. Speaking of weather, all last week, we had the most ridiculously sweltering weather, exactly like the dog days of August, except 3 months too early, and just much too hot, too soon. Fortunately, Bill had a plan, and put in the window air conditioners when it was 90 degrees inside and out, with humidity off the charts, thanks not. Naturally, this did the trick, and the temperature dropped 20 degrees in one fell swoop. In fact, I wonder that it didn't usher in a whole new Ice Age on the spot, so I guess there must be something to this global warming stuff after all.
Last weekend was Memorial Day, of course, the unofficial start of the summer season, with all the transient pleasures it has to offer, of which one is my sister's historic barbecue for hundreds of their far-flung friends and acquaintances, plus the myriad strangers who just get sucked up into the vortex of its gravitational pull. I usually pick up my other sister at the bus station and bring her with me, but this time around she was unable to attend, so Bill was kind enough to fill in for her, and did an admirable job, considering this was his first time at the rodeo, as they say. We left the rodeo clowns behind, and stopped at Denny's on the way home, where they were complaining that there was no air conditioning, but that didn't slow us down a bit. At the time, there was not another living soul in the place besides us, so we got very attentive service, I can tell you that. I wanted to try one of their newly introduced tropical drinks, but we found out that it wasn't available yet, even though it was being advertised right there on their placemats, so that was disappointing. But I don't like to complain because it seems like going to Denny's is getting to be almost an embarrassment of riches for us lately, since we went on Easter at the end of April, again after the grand opening at Shanti-Bithi last month, and here again on Memorial Day. That's the kind of triple threat I can live with, believe me.
I intended to fly the flags on Monday for Memorial Day, which was also coincidentally May 30, traditionally known as Decoration Day, where usually these fall on two different days. But I thought the weather was questionable in the morning, and we were planning to be out all day, so I reluctantly gave up on the idea, because I didn't want to come home to the sight of wet and bedraggled Old Glory, and the sound of the aggrieved gray-headed Barbara Frietchie spinning in her fictional grave. I suppose it was just as well, because everyone know that we can't count on the poor addled brain cells (both of them) of the Flag Brigade anymore, to put the flags out and bring them back in again, even if we just assign one task each to G.I. Joe and Beetle Bailey, so they only have to remember one instead of both. Obviously what I need is for one of those brain cells to be Barbara Frietchie, and the other to be Betsy Ross, and then the Flag Brigade would really be in business, by golly.
If Memorial Day weekend has come and gone, as indeed it has, then that means that the venerable Indy 500 has also, roaring off into the sunset for another year. There was almost a fairy tale finish by a rookie, who practically led the whole way from pole to pole, that is, until fate stepped in. Our friends at Sports Illustrated describe it this way:
=========================
INDIANAPOLIS (AP) -- JR Hildebrand was one turn away from winning the Indianapolis 500 and within sight of the checkered flag when the 23-year-old rookie made the ultimate mistake.
Leading by almost 4 seconds with a lap to go, Hildebrand skidded high into the wall on the final turn, and Dan Wheldon drove past to claim an improbable second Indy 500 win Sunday in his first race of the year.
The first three turns went smoothly. Then Hildebrand moved to the outside and lost control, slamming the wall to a collective gasp from the crowd of 250,000. "I got up in the marbles and that was it,'' Hildebrand said.
=========================
I love that part about the marbles, whatever that means, but actually, my personal favorite account of the race is from our other friends at http://www.bleacherreport.com/
==========================
On the final turn of the final lap in the 2011 Indy 500, rookie J.R. Hildebrand wrecked. Dan Wheldon who had finished second in the race the past two years took advantage of Hildebrand's error to win the race.
The finish was under review to see if Wheldon passed Hildebrand before the yellow flag was waived.
It took hours after the race and no announcement was been made on the winner. They delay made it look like an overturn was possible.
==========================
"Waived?" "Was been?" "They delay?" Do I hear the ghost of Casey Stengel wondering, "Can't anybody here speak this language?" It's beginning to make me think that we may have finally discovered the source for the excerpts in the Best Bets section of our local newspaper's TV listings, where this kind of thing is all too common. Here's one that the spell-checker is never going to help you with:
======================
"TOY STORY 3"
As Andy leaves for college the toys are
pack and donated to a daycare but when
things get a little too rough they plan a
daring escape so they can go home
======================
Now, I understand that space is at a premium in this section, but leaving out all of the punctuation makes this description almost impossible to understand. And if the punctuation didn't save enough room, they also left the end off of "packed" and whatever the noun was supposed to be that would have been modified by "daycare," that is, if only it was there when the modifier was looking for it, alas. It was another holiday for the spell-checker in this next entry:
=====================
"PARANORMAL STATE"
A mirror inexplicably levitates and
hurdles itself to the ground
=====================
I realize this is paranormal stuff, but I can't even begin to imagine how double-jointed something would have to be in order to "hurdle itself," which might be considered as a new Olympic sport - The 100 Meter Hurdle Yourself - except for the fact that it would be impossible. It shouldn't take paranormal powers to come up with the word "hurtle" in the place of "hurdle," but I admit that the supernatural is not my field of expertise. The spell-checker is also not going to help you with this one:
==============
"CHASE"
The Marshals track down a prison escapee
who is hoping to find proof of his evidence
===============
I'm thinking it would be more useful for him to find proof of his innocence, rather than his evidence, but here again, law enforcement is not my specialty, so I may be wrong. The puzzling part is these two words aren't even homophones (like cereal and serial, for example) so you can't help but wonder how they still managed to mix them up. Heck, that would be like me mixing up my only two brain cells ..... hmmm, good old whats-his-name ..... uh, you know who I mean ..... oh, it's right here on the tip of my tongue ..... G.I. Frietchie and Beetle Ross, that must be them.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 7:30 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home