I was reading Atlas Obscura this afternoon, and they talked about a beautiful clock in Glastonbury. A deeply embedded memory of this surfaced:
It was 25 years ago, around this time that I first saw that clock. 25 years ago, exactly, I was in Norwich packing up to start my Navy Dumb training. Now to get some Toasted Tea biscuits for Jerod.
Garfield, I haven’t come back to in appreciation yet. I still think it’s pretty juvenile. While I hope my kids find it and love it like I did, I also hope they outgrow it 😉
This and tomorrow’s entry do something to Garfield that makes it interesting, much more interesting than it would be on its own.
Every time I think of Coca-Cola, I think of The Blinks.
Click on the image to go to the article.
I do find this article fascinating, however, and am reminded how surrounded we are my technological marvels. Collective miracles, since no one person holds the key to delivering a can of Coke. There’s also a part of me that wonders if all this effort is worth it, too. And what pittance I pay for a Coke…it seems like it is “worth” more — even if I’ve come to expect it cheaper than water, in some cases.
She was defiantly independent, unbelievably loyal, tender with our kids, and territorial. She was living proof that you CAN teach an old dog new tricks, as she got smarter and smarter the longer she lived, learning to communicate what she wanted more and more efficiently. She hated getting wet. She protected Eliot and Sara from a raging pitbull, and I slept sitting up with her when she couldn’t lie down from the pain of the injuries she had sustained in the fight. When I came home from the vet after learning that she had advanced lymphoma, my family was gone and she licked the tears from my face. The night before last, she couldn’t climb the stairs to go out at night to go to the bathroom, and I carried her up. Later that night, I found she had climbed the stairs to my bedroom to be beside me during a storm. She was a fighter and stubborn, and one of my best friends. Dogs are a marvel. And I miss her very much.
Here’s the first in a series dedicated to the BP spill. This image was created with ink, oil, and water (and Photoshop). The initial splotch was created, incidentally, in a sketchbook given to me by Toby.
Last night I came home late. Sara informed me the kids were asleep. When I went to kiss them goodnight, Eliot was missing from his bed. I found him in our bed with the reading lamp on and this in his hands.
If you haven’t watched these, I highly recommend. It leans a little crasser than my sense of humor usually does, but in this case I think it’s deserved.
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