Eureka! - I have found it!

eu·re·ka exclamation /yooˈrēkə/ /yə-/ 1. A cry of joy or satisfaction when one finds or discovers something.

Supposedly, shouted by ancient Greek philosopher Archimedes as he ran naked from his bath realizing just why heavy stuff floats...

Recently, I was sent a framed photograph of some beautiful farm land in "upstate" Pennsylvania by a dear friend and fellow blogger, Photojournalist Alice Kay. Slipped into the package was a most curious photograph of an orange traffic cone sitting in a hole. I looked at the photograph and thought to myself, "Silly OCHA*, sitting in a hole" and my mind turned to other things (like the farm land photograph).

*Orange Cone Head Alien

Early this morning while standing in the shower as the lukewarm water cascaded over my balding head I was thinking... (yes, dangerous business, I know...)


...about the curious photograph. Why would an Orange Cone stand (sit?) in a hole like that? And then it struck me! How could I've been so dense! I shouted "Eureka!" as I ran from my shower through the house naked dripping with water... (well not really).

Its blindingly simple!! It's not a hole, its a nest!! Mother OCHA is sitting on a nestful of OCHA eggs!! So that's where they all come from!!

I immediately ran outside (well, after I put some undies on) to the nearest nesting OCHA and looked into the nest and what I saw was...

...plain old ordinary gravel.

My excitement left me faster than withholding taxes on my salary (and that goes so fast I never see it!)... Plain old gravel. Hmmph...

My brain, once kicked (hard) out of its slumber, whirled, banged, rattled, and smoked...an old science film came to the surface of the usual claptrap and hokum. The smarmy-toned voice over said, "Hey kids! Some animals in the wild have this amazing ability to blend in with their surroundings. It's called camouflage."

Camouflage! Eggs that look like gravel? Could it be? I turned and ran back to the OCHA nest (as I had decided to call it...) and scooped up a handful of gravel and brought it to the office. Thinking furiously, "it needs a warm place" and remembering somethings about hatchings in nature - theorized that I've never seen an OCHA hatching because they must only hatch on the darkest of moonless nights... like turtles... (never mind that I got my facts a little out of sorts there.)

I covered the OCHA eggs with a warm blanket and a box and kept them warm and dark. It was only a short while later, I heard some strange "plopping" sounds. With blazing curiosity, I lifted the box off the eggs...


Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!! They were hatching!!


Awww.. so cute!! They are so wobbly they can hardly stand (sit?) up.

So now I understand why OCHA so often found standing in and around holes... This just "must be" why.

Let There Be Whales

The scene is the Marketplace Design Center, 2400 Market Street, Philadelphia. The date is march 2, 1985. The photographer (Dale W. Woodland) stood across the Schuylkill River near the 30th Street train station and the Philadelphia U.S. Post Office Building to take this shot. The train is on the Baltimore and Ohio tracks that will take it under the Philadelphia Art Museum in just a few moments.



Robert Wyland (born 1956), known simply as Wyland, is an artist best known for painting large, outdoor murals of whales and other ocean life. He has painted 100 or more of these huge murals. He painted a mural on this "blank canvas" (WW42) and titled it, 'East Coast Humpbacks'. It is 125 Feet Long x 130 Feet High. It was dedicated on July 19, 1993.


They have added a walkway down to a very pleasant walking path along the river. The train tracks are still there too, hidden behind the walkway.

I walked over the bridge that carries Market Street over the river (with trepidation) to get a closer shot.


You can see his other awesome murals at the Whaling Wall.

I've seen WW26 on the side of a K-Mart, in Marathon, Florida Keys. I know someone that is fond of WW43 is in Wildwood, New Jersey. WW86 features a Manatee. Is there one near you?

Mount Vernon Snapshot

Mount Vernon, located just south of Washington D.C. in Virginia, was the plantation home of the first President of the United States, George Washington. The mansion is built of wood in neoclassical Georgian architectural style, and is located on the banks of the Potomac River.

When Augustine Washington (George Washington's father) owned the estate, it was known as Little Hunting Creek Plantation. Lawrence Washington, George's older half-brother, inherited the estate and changed its name to Mount Vernon in 1742 in honor of Vice Admiral Edward Vernon famed for the War of Jenkin's Ear* and capture of Portobelo, Colón.

*I leave as an exercise to the reader to learn about the War of Jenkin's Ear!

Upon Lawrence's untimely death in July 1752, his will provided that his widow should own a life estate in Mount Vernon, with the remainder interest falling to Lawrence's beloved half-brother, George. George Washington was already living at Mount Vernon and managing the plantation. Lawrence's widow, Anne Fairfax (1728-1761), however promptly remarried into the Lee family and moved out.

Anne Fairfax was the granddaughter of Thomas Fairfax, 5th Lord Fairfax of Cameron. The present day Fairfax county, Virginia named for her uncle, Thomas Fairfax. Anne was a distant aunt to Robert E. Lee, who married Martha Custis Washington's granddaughter, Mary Anna Rudolph Custis.

In any event, in the treasure trove of lost photographs, I found this badly damaged photo rolled up with in a bundle with my grandmother's High School and College diplomas, neither of which I had ever seen before. Apparently my grandfather was bothered by the fact she not only finished High School (which he did not), but had also gone on to get a college dregee so my grandmother never hung the diplomas in their house out of "deference" to him.

The Kensington High School Party, February 11, 1925. My grandmother is just right of center in the middle row with the red ^ pointing to her. She looks like she is a bit chilly!

Mount Vernon was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1960 and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It is owned and maintained in trust by The Mount Vernon Ladies' Association and is open every day of the year.

After the deaths of George Washington (in 1799) and his widow Martha (in 1802), Mount Vernon, remained in the family for three generations. John Augustine Washington, Jr., a great-great-nephew of George Washington, eventually became owner of the property, but could not afford to maintain it. By the 1850s the home was beginning to crumble. However, John Washington would not sell to commercial developers and insisted that the new owner preserve Mount Vernon as a historic site.

He offered to sell the estate to either the Federal government or the Commonwealth of Virginia, but the legislatures declined, saying it would not be proper to spend tax-payers' money to acquire private property.

In 1853, South Carolina socialite Louise Dalton Bird Cunningham saw Washington's home in poor condition. She wrote her daughter, Ann Pamela Cunningham, saying~~

If the men of America have seen fit to allow the home of its most respected hero to go to ruin, why can't the women of America band together to save it?

Ann Pamela founded the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association and invited influential women from each state (there were 30 at that time) to serve as its original Vice-Regents. It was the first nation-wide women's organization in America.

Miss Cunningham and the Association launched a nationwide fund raising effort. John Washington agreed to sell the property to the Association and the contract was signed in Richmond on April 6, 1858. The agreement was to sell the Mansion, outbuildings and 200 surrounding acres to the Association for $200,000.

Mount Vernon as it appeared when the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association bought it.

Ann Pamela Cunningham's original vision became the Association's mission statement which remains the same today~~

Ladies, the home of Washington is in your charge - see to it that you keep it the home of Washington. Let no irreverent hand change it; no vandal hands desecrate it with the fingers of progress. Those who go to the home in which he lived and died wish to see in what he lived and died. Let one spot in this grand country of ours be saved from change. Upon you rests this duty.

The Association maintains a headquarters on the Mount Vernon property, and consists of a Regent, or chairman, and 30 trustees, or Vice Regents, who represent their home states. The non-profit Association still receives no federal or state financial aid and relies solely on admission fees, revenues from food and gift sales, and donations from foundations, businesses, and individuals.

The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award

A few days ago I was honored to receive an award from Just Stuff From a Boomer who blogs an eclectic mix of nostalgia and memories ranging from bittersweet to those that will take you back in time. If you've never been to her place, I highly recommended it! Put your hair up ala Farrah Fawcett or if you are a guy, put on your white disco suit before you go!


I'm supposed to tell you 7 random facts about myself, tag people and pass the award on to 5 other bloggers. 7 facts. Random facts.

1. I wear a digital pedometer everyday and feel naked without it. I'll even wear it latched to my underwear if that is all I have on. I log my steps each day and have walked halfway around the world "in a virtual way" since I started doing this.

2. I often sleep on the sofa - but I've slowly been sleeping on the bed more often. Someday, perhaps, I'll sleep under the covers.


3. I probably have one of the world's largest collections of orange traffic safety cones. Soon I'll have to figure out how to put them in my will. I wonder who has (and where) the largest collection? Would anyone want to go there to see it (with or without me)?


4. I love dogs of all sorts and sizes. Cats* do next to nothing for me. I've still not gotten over having to put my companion Gypsy (pictured) down when I learned she had stomach cancer on Thanksgiving Day more than a few years ago now. She is badly missed.

*Some "cats," such as Karma, Mooch and Bailey, are treated in my mind as "honorary dogs" even if they won't like hearing that.

5. On my Bucket List is to capture the perfect wild squirrel picture. I want a shot good enough for National Geographic. That's probably not gonna happen.

6. I drive a Subaru station wagon - and still can't believe I drive a station wagon. I've become my father.

7. I still write "DOS" programs call "batch files" on occassion. In fact, today I cam working on a program that will "roll up" about 50 inventory database files into one "package" that will be sent over the Internet for backup and collaborative sharing purposes at remote offices. The program will be entirely written in DOS commands.

Now I will pass on this honor to 5 other bloggers.

Tori and Kero of Tori's World

Punkn and Bailey of My Loves, My life

Pamela of The Dust Will Wait

Parsley (with a shout out to Melody) of Seasons of My Mind

Rebecca of This Mom's Many Hats

Betty and Koda of A Corgi In Southern California

Mary and Fred of My Boston, My Friend

Martha and Princess of The Daily Grind

Nikki, Buddy, and Freddy at Furry Bottoms

Rita and Karma at SoulComfort's Corner

Hmm.. that's not 5? Oh well, I wanted to add a few more...

:)

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

That age old question...

...might have an answer, and that answer may be:

To stand on top of the mailbox.

I found this chicken standing on a mailbox on a back country road on the way to wharf Friday. I pulled out my camera thinking. "Hey! I could blog that!" I was a little disgusted when I discovered my camera battery was dead.

So, I went on to the houseboat, charged my camera battery, and then spent two hours driving around in a maze of Eastern Shore cornfields trying to remember where I had seen "the chicken on the box". Finally, coming around a curve lined with towering corn and blossoming, purple Crape Myrtles, I spotted it.


I suppose one would call this a clever use of old scrap iron and steel pieces. Or perhaps one might think, the chicken that crossed the road got caught in a sudden summer downpour and rusted solid, immobilized for all eternity - forever stuck on the other side.


I wonder what the mail person thinks of this "artwork"?

And now another age old question and it's answer... Why did Iggy walk all the way across a hot, humid parking lot at high noon risking heat stroke?

To take a picture of this awesome, totally rust-free, blemish-free, VW Beatle.

Orange you glad you know that?

:)

Food for Thought

I've not posted anything lately - got a bit of writer's block but I heard this quote while watching a PBS show last night about black servicemen that fought in wars for the USA. This quote came from the Vietnam era...


"We were children of the 1950s and John Kennedy's young stalwarts of the early 1960s. He told the world that Americans would "pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship" in the defense of freedom. We were the down payment on that costly contract, but the man who signed it was not there when we fulfilled his promise.

John Kennedy waited for us on a hill in Arlington National Cemetery, and in time we came by the thousands to fill those slopes with our white marble markers and to ask on the murmur of the wind if that was truely the future he had envisioned for us."

— Joseph L. Galloway

Since I've been born, the USA has been busy with its wars...

1960-1975
Vietnam War
United States and South Vietnam vs. North Vietnam
U.S. Casualties: 58,193 deaths, 153,303 wounded in action, 1948 missing in action

1961
Bay of Pigs Invasion
United States vs. Cuba

1983
Grenada
United States Intervention

1989
US Invasion of Panama
United States vs. Panama

1990-1991
Persian Gulf War
United States and Coalition Forces vs. Iraq
U.S. Casualties: 378 deaths, less than 1000 wounded in action

1995-1996
Intervention in Bosnia and Herzegovina
United States as part of NATO acted peacekeepers in former Yugoslavia

2001-Ongoing
Invasion of Afghanistan
United States and Coalition Forces vs. the Taliban regime in Afghanistan.
U.S. Casualties: 1098 deaths, 2379 wounded in action

2003-Ongoing (or August 19, 2010 if you want to believe that)
Invasion of Iraq
United States and Coalition Forces vs. Iraq
U.S. Casualties: 4,404 deaths; 31,827 wounded in action

2011-Libya
NATO "No-Fly Zone"
United States as part of NATO trying to impose a regime change

My understanding is the backlog at Arlington National Cemetery, that most hallowed of memorial sites which handles 27 burials a day, is now up to 3 to 4 months; meaning if a serviceman or woman dies today, he/she can't be buried there until sometime in October.

Sad. "We've" been at war for over half of my life. I re-ask on the murmur of the wind if that was truely the future JFK had envisioned for us...

War Bride and Mayor

According to The Daily Telegraph, it is estimated that there are "... 15,000 Australian women who married American servicemen based in Australia during World War II and moved to the US to be with their husbands."


The man that the newspaper calls "Edward" is Edwin Pershing McClurken who was born Nov 11, 1917 and was apparently named after U.S. General "Black Jack" Pershing of WWI fame. His bride-to-be is Frances Sophia Erney. They were married April 26, 1946. They had two children.

Edwin served in the South Pacific for three years during WWII. I never knew or met the man or his wife although he was one of my grandmother's cousins.


My Great Aunt Eleanor was quite a woman. She was opinionated, outspoken, and loud. She had a great zest for life and she fought the cancer that eventually killed her as bravely as anyone I have ever seen.

One of my biggest memories of her, centers around her and my grandmother. You see, my mom, my younger brother, my grandmother and I were out in California visiting Eleanor, who was my grandmother's youngest sibling, some time back in the 1970s.

My grandmother was about as different from her sister as one could be - she was demure to the point of being meek - and did what the wife did for her husband. She remembered being poor when she was growing up - you might remember that her father was killed and her brother stepped up to help support the family...and then of course, she survived the Great Depression, learning not to waste anything at all.

So it was, we went to sightseeing while we were California and while we were in San Diego, we went to the most elegant Hotel Del Coronado for either lunch or "high tea". While we ate (with pinky fingers held high), my grandmother took some of the rolls and extra butter, wrapped them in a paper napkin she brought into the hotel in her pocketbook and then stuffed the package into her coat pocket.

My Aunt watched her do this with great interest, her sparkling eyes rolling the whole time.

After we ate, and on the way out through the glorious wooden lobby, my mom and grandmother decided they should "powder their noses" and make use of the facilities while they had the chance. It was a long-ish drive back to my Aunt's house.

While we were waiting for "the girls," my Aunt asked me if my grandmother was living in a cardboard box "out east" and wasn't my grandfather taking care of her?

I replied they had a beautiful home being rather confused by the question (I was only about ten years old at the time). When my grandmother and mom returned to the lobby, my grandmother was awkwardly trying to slip some paper towels she had taken from the ladies room into her already very full pocketbook. When my Aunt saw this, she exclaimed in a very loud voice, clearly heard throughout the until then genteel lobby, "For God's sake Edith!!! We'll buy you some G--D--n paper towels!!!"

I can still hear the words ringing in my ears - colored by her unique blend of Philadelphia-Nebraska-California hodgepodge accent.

So now, when in a restaurant, when my mom slips a stray packet of sweetener (or ketchup) into her pocket or handbag, I'll say, "For God's sake Mom! I'll buy you some gosh durn Sweet-n-low!!" and we will all crack up laughing, lost in the warm memories of my Great Aunt.

She is greatly missed.