The Excited Gang

Today, just as I was unlocking the door to the my office, I heard all sorts of delighted squealing going on.

I just had to wonder what Little Iggy, Pointy Hair Boss, Multo and the remaining four Beauty Queenies; Miss Georgia, Miss New York, Miss Louisanna, and Miss Confusion; were up to. It's never a dull moment with this gang.


As the door creaked open, I saw Miss Georgia, Miss New York, and Miss Confusion all playing around in the brand new Beauty Queenies Cone Carrying Case I had gotten in the mail the day before.

Remembering that Miss Illinois had run away crying because I had told her she was a little bottom heavy, and Miss Texas who had that bizarre operation to become Multo, I grew quickly concerned about the missing Miss Louisanna whereabouts.


I found her with the rest of the gang studiously reading the cover of the new issue of "Latina" magazine that I had left behind. Multo looked up at me and said, "Fargle! tsaoT sA yrD hoooooO haAaa derE yumic! Kak doO machy bazuL yumic beep!"

I put my Zulanese Universal Translator in my ear and and asked him to repeat himself. I heard, "Oh my goodness, Daisy Fuentes is one good looking and talented woman! And she is a Gazillion dollar woman too!"

Little Iggy was so excited to learn that "Retro back hair makes ya sexy!"

He was only slightly disappointed when I told him he had misread the caption and it said, "Retro Hair is Back! And It's Sexier Than Ever!"


I think Little Iggy is impressed that he knows someone that's an Assistant Editor.

Miss Louisanna thought all the articles were cool - she especially enjoyed the one about Latin Music and Multo got some ideas from the one on Plastic Surgery.

I got this magazine to broaden my horizons - To quote someone, "It's a pretty decent read." And "tsaoT sA yrD" indeed.

From Evansburg to Teotihuacan (and back)

On Tuesday evening, I got finished at work early so I decided to head over to the Evansburg State Park and walk somewhere different.  Just for a change of scenery.

I parked at the trail head and walked west on the south side of the Skippack Creek.  The trail went though a field overgrown with cattails and whatever this purple spiky flower is…  I could barely see the trail – and this should have been a warning to me.

 

The dirt path felt really good underfoot, giving my sore feet some relief from the hard gravel, asphalt and concrete I have been walking on.  I looked at my walking chart and saw I’ve covered 83 miles so far this month.  Ah, dirt!

 

 

The pleasant meandering path winds its way down the Skippack Creek, sometimes close by and sometimes not so close as the creek cuts its way through the soft red rock of southeastern Pennsylvania.

 

Up and down the bank of the creek I went.  I had forgotten how much of a workout this looping trail was.  The footing gets rocky in places and the slope pitches steeply up (more often then it did down it seems.)

 

 

Keeping my eye peeled for the white diamond blaze markings found on trail-side trees every hundred yards or so.

Surely there could be nothing to make the casual stroller think, “Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!” and soon I would turn around and head back to the car, having walked a comfortable three or four miles.

 

 

And then I, umm, I ran into some difficulty and misplaced the trail I was following.  Apparently it slips around this tree and heads off to the left.

 

 

 

Unaware of my predicament, I strolled onwards.  Through Tennessee, Arkansas and Texas (it seemed.)

 

 

I eventually found my way back to the creek – or was it the Rio Grande?  I wasn’t sure so I pulled out the trail map and looked at it.  And looked at it.  And looked at it some more.

 

 

 

 

Ah, apparently I made the wrong turn in Albuquerque.  But which way to go?

 

 

 

 

When my legs felt as if I had walked to the pyramidal structure of Teotihuacan in central Mexico, with its strange bird face hieroglyph, I discovered I went the wrong way, again.

 

 

Even the blaze that marked whatever trail I was on seemed to be a questioning itself.  I began to become a little… concerned.

 

 

 

 

 

I had my map, my pedometer, car keys and cell phone as well as my camera.  MacGyver probably could have made a all-terrain vehicle out this – or perhaps even a lightweight airplane.

 

 

 

 

But not I.  I looked for shelter and food – there was plenty of water to be found in the creek – even if the fish that swim in it poop in it. And I like mushrooms.

 

 

My legs wobbled and buckled.  Darkness started to creep over the wilderness.  When suddenly I heard a car somewhere off to my right – somewhere just beyond a dense stand of trees.

 

 

 

Finally after a few miles more than the four miles I had planned on walking – I stumbled out of the darkening woods and into the parking lot where my car awaited me.

 

 

Next time I’m going to be smart.  I’m going to take a sharpie and write on the tag of my tee-shirt, “If found, please return to Norristown, PA” – that ought to do it, you think?

Help Wanted -

Are there any American Idol wannabes out there that want to do a small project for me?


If you can sing something even remotely resembling this and aren't bashful of your rendition being made public - I'd like you to record the following to the same music:

Seeing OCHAs and then walking for miles
Chatters and bloggers and good friends with smiles!
Wonderful pals and the feelings they bring
These are a few of my favorite things.

Little Iggy and four Beauty Queens
Spongebob and Patrick, the sights to be seen!
White Chin-Strapped Ducks with the sun on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things.

Doggies and turtles and majestic Oak trees
ORBAs and Multo with stalky eyes of three!
Red Brested Robins announcing it's Spring
These are a few of my favorite things

When I can't get
Charlie's picture
And I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad!

Creative concept and source lyrics provided by LadyStyx

I have a few more variations of the theme written for others - for someone with a melodic voice and a heart of gold to sing.

Heap Big Deer Tracker

The other day I decided to head over to a remote corner of Valley Forge National Historical Park called Pawling’s Farm on Walnut Hill.  This part of the park is not visited very much.  I decided to look for some deer to photograph, usually no challenge at all, since they are a dime a dozen in the area.  Camera in hand, I strolled down the old wagon road to the site of General Sullivan’s Bridge and Fatland Ford.

It wasn’t long before I found some sign of deer in the vicinity.  Deer track!  Unfortunately, they were pointing each and every way.  Daniel Boone might of figured out the best way to go at the drop of his coon-skin hat, but I just meandered on through the woods.

After walking a ways in the quiet stillness of early evening, I encountered another sign that deer had been there not long before me.  I think the term for what I saw is “scat” – presumably short for something an animal has “scattered.”  Daniel Boone would have told me, “Deer scats in pellet form. This is the summer form. The scats hold their shape well due to the moisture content. If the diet included more moist or succulent plants, the scats would be looser, or would stick together more.”

Probably way too much information huh?  I continued my slow meandering through the woods until I encountered this…

I looked at it closely and with my considerable powers of observation and mental deduction, determined that this umm, “pile” is not from a deer!

Having reached the river without seeing any deer, I figured that my efforts to photograph them would be futile.  But the evening air was most pleasant with a cool gentle breeze blowing the bright white clouds across the brilliant blue sky.  The acrobatic squirrels and sleepy turtles abounded, so I simply enjoyed the sights that were there to be seen.  I inhaled the scene and turned to retrace my steps back to the car (taking care not to step in…anything).  A short way from the river, I looked into the tall green grass and suddenly a head popped up.

  Ah, so there you are! And aren’t you a pretty deer too!  I took a photograph and the "fake” shutter noise of my digital camera woke up a couple other slumbering beauties.

Soon, I saw heads popping up out of the tall green grass in every direction.  With a smile on my face I returned to the bend in the trail where the river softly laps against the rocks and sat and rested my feet awhile.  It was only then that I discovered I had walked nearly eight miles in my search for a deer picture.

 Rested, relaxed, restored – I continued up the trail into the golden rays of the setting sun.