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 |  What's new on Pleasant Hill |
 This Blog contains day-to-day thoughts and other nonsense.  {c} ![Merit Badge in Community
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I'm starting to see your name everywhere I go *^*Bigsmile*^*. Thank you so very much for all you do around WDC! It is people like you, who make WDC such the awesome place we call our second home *^*Heart*^*
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Tracey](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Community-210.gif) Thanks to intuey  for the MB![Merit Badge in Cheerleading
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I wanted to give you a badge you didn't have yet, and this cheerleading badge suits you. You are such an encouragement to many members of this site, including me, and I wouldn't know what Writing.Com would do without you. *^*Smile*^* You're a gem, Barbs. Thank you for your friendship and everything that you do. Love, Me *^*Smile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Cheerleading-210.gif) Thanks to pencilsoverpens  for the MB![Merit Badge in Funny
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I've never laughed more, thanks Barbs](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Funny-200.gif) Thanks Wolfdale  for the MBThanks to pencilsoverpens  for the awardicon for this blogThanks to Equilibrium for the pretty green ribbon she pinned on my poetry folder. Thanks to Alfred Booth for the Awardicon for Happy Book and for my wonderful, vibrant sig. |
| My good friend, Peggy, is an amazing woman. She's fifty something, petite, blond, and cute as can be. To look at her, one would never guess the degree of her strength. Peggy is pioneer woman reincarnate. She is a single mom of adult children. She farms 200 acres in a small town not far from here. There she raises Bison, some sixty head. However, that's not what amazes me. Peggy is nearly entirely self-sufficient. She tends a large vegetable garden and cans all manor of foodstuffs. She raises several pigs each year and a clutch of Rhode Island Red chickens. They give her eggs, bacon, and meat for the freezer. She buys flour and sugar in hundred-pound sacks. She bakes bread daily and cooks on a wood-burning range. It also heats the house. She does have electricity and running water in her home, but these are luxuries. She and I had a hard laugh recently when she told me about a rare trip that she had made to the grocery store. It was the first time she had gone in many months. "I needed spices and a few things so I took a cart and added my purchases to it." she chortled. "When I had located everything, I headed for the checkout lane. I was daydreaming while I waited my turn, feeling so proud of myself. When the woman ahead of me finished, I pulled my cart abreast of the checker who gave me a blank stare." she continued. "After an awkward moment of silence, I smiled and brightly said, 'Well, what do I owe ya?' The checker gave me a quizzical look and said, 'Uh, you have to empty your basket onto the checkout conveyer so I can ad it up, lady.'" Remember, Peggy is. . . blond. |
| Is there an obvious solution to the password issue? Something that I just cannot see for the trees? I have a business size envelope in my top desk drawer scribbled FULL of websites and their appropriate user name and password. I started years ago with one password. My plan was to use it for each web destination. That was splendid until the first site, for whatever reason, no longer recognized the wonderful single password, and required me to change it. Over time, the whole thing has become a tangle of passwords and usernames. What a mess! With the possible exception of one or two, there is no way that I can remember which is which. I'm open to any and all suggestions. |
| While I waited in line at the checkout this morning, my mind wandered from ground beef and celery. The lane is a gauntlet of candy bars and Chiclets on the right and tabloids and women's magazines on the left. Sprinkled in between are batteries, DVDs, nail clippers, and other absurdities. The thing that caught my attention today was a magazine headline. "Lose 25 Pounds Painlessly," it offered. If only that were possible, I thought. It's the "painless" statement that I didn't buy into. I can lose 25 pounds by eating less. . .much less, but it's never "painless." Painless weight loss is an oxymoron, I thought. The grocery checkout aisle and the gas station are my two food traps. I've arranged to have a gas card now, so I can pay at the pump and avoid the c-store altogether. I heard that the major oil companies were having emergency sales meetings to determine why their sales of Snickers took such a precipitous nosedive the week I started using it. It was nice; I quit that and diet Coke, all in one fell swoop! The grocery store is harder to avoid. We all have to eat. . .something. I just can't seem to get to the cashier there without adding an item or two to my basket. In order to not look at the candy, I stand turned to the left. . .where all the magazines are. I rarely buy tabloids, BUT those clever stock persons, they keep that section stocked with my other "thing," cookbooks. A cookbook or two is almost as good as a Snickers. I should know, I own nearly every one published since the invention of the printing press. Tony no longer comments on this compulsion. Hey, I figure they're a better purchase than Snickers, not that there's anything wrong with them. Oh, in case any of you reading this would be interested in losing 25 pounds painlessly, it's a national magazine and undoubtedly available in your checkout aisle.  |
| Jupiter's Top Ten Favorite Things: # 10. Kitty treats. # 9. Savory salmon with gravy # 8. Having his nails clipped. . .NOT! # 7. Company, especially folks that don't like cats. # 6. The window ledge next to the bird feeders. # 5. Zipping into a room where he shouldn't be. # 4. A lazy tummy rub. # 3. A patch of sunshine on the carpet. # 2. Everything to do with plumbing. And Jupiter's number 1 favorite thing: A line of catnip. |
| One of the joys of country living is the ability to appreciate the night sky. City dwellers loose the horizon amid the trees and buildings. Moreover, they lack an all-dark world from which to take account of nocturnal heavenly beauty. Most rural residents can easily see the east and west horizons. And, in a darkling moment, nothing robs one of the clear view of billions of stars and the northern lights. But, more about that another day. Many years ago I read somewhere about a rare phenomenon that can occasionally be seen from the easternmost coastline of the United States. When the ocean is at a flat calm, one can look to the east over the water on a fair and perfect morning and watch a spectacular sunrise. The sharp horizon and clear weather allow the shafts of light to be refracted as the sun rises over the curvature of the earth. This momentarily sprays the various bands of the spectrum as in a rainbow. This effect is fleeting but unforgettable, I'm told. While we don't have exactly that full experience here in central Wisconsin, a sunrise akin to this does happen to the east of our house when conditions are just right. As the sun climbs up the far side of the horizon, the sky turns a pale yellow, green, pink, and blue to dark blue. The colors are so delicate as to be ethereal. The effect is fleeting but breathtaking. It's an electrifying start to my day on Pleasant Hill. |
| Aren't place names interesting? My home state, Wisconsin, is an area originally home to the Oneida nation. Later explored by the French fur traders, many place names reflect this heritage. Allouez and Argonne, Benoit and Bonduel, De Pere, Fontenoy, Fond du Lac, and Gratiot are found among Wisconsin towns and cities. Lac du Flambeau, Lac la Belle and La Crosse clearly point to French heritage. Indian names abound. Some, like Lac Coute Oreilles, Butte des Morts, Kinnickinnic, and Potawatomi present pronunciation challenges. Others such as Ojibwa, Necedah, Mazomanie, Wazeecha, and Neopit are interesting. Nabagamon, Ho Chunk, Kewaskum, Oshkosh, and Sheboygan, Sinsinawa and Taychedah roll off the tongue with an exotic flavor. Still others reflect the melting pot that is Wisconsin. Binghamton, Ripon, Wales, Bristol, Oostburg, Czechville, Germantown, Glasgow, Helvetia, Luxemburg, Denmark, and New London, for starters. New Amsterdam, Norske, Poniatoski and Polonia are a few more. And still others are just quaint. In that category, put Rudolph, Romance, Winter, Ume, Ubet, Thiry Daems, State Line, Spread Eagle, Somo, Slabtown and Slab City. Pulcifer, Quincy and Quincy Details, Center Ninety, Agenda, Pound, Porcupine, Polar and Pretty Acres continue the list. Ono, Oulu, Globe and Grow, Forward, Fence, Ino, Imalone, Hurricane, How and Happy Corners are still more. Then there's Moon, Luck, Lead Mine, Exile, Dresser, Draper, and Dilly, Cream, Dacada, Dancy, Alaska, Alpha, Breed, Brill, Budd, Cecil, Cato, and Cazenovia. Who would name a town Cazenovia, I ask you? |
| For the past forty years, the task of auto maintenance has fallen to me. This is because Tony is too impatient to sit in the waiting area while work is being done. Over the years, I have spent considerable time in one dealership lounge or another, drinking vile coffee and thinking about various automotive issues. One of them is tire tread wear. We have spent enough money on tire rotation, new tires, wheel balancing and alignment, etc. to put one child through four years of college. Over these many years, I've been plagued with one question. Where does all that tire rubber go? Every oil change reveals another layer gone. I have seen rubber on roadways from jackrabbit starts, but we have graduated from that sort of driving to the old foggy category. We are the turtles in the race now. And, if it is deposited on the roads by the millions of cars out there, with four tires wearing each, roads should be caked with accumulated stuff. Visualize yourself slip sliding down the boulevard, trying to stay atop a one-foot crust of this material. I don't see that happening so what's goin' on. Is tire rubber a volatile solid? Is it evaporating at a slow pace? Are we inhaling it? Are there measurable levels of this stuff fouling our air? Why can't we see it? It's black, isn't it? If anyone out there has the answer, inquiring minds want to know. |
| The essence of the Wisconsin dairy industry is the Holstein-Friesian cow. In years past, some farms raised and milked Guernseys, gentle Brown Swiss, and others. Lovable as they might have been, none could hold a candle to the Holstein for sheer volume output. Out of seventeen neighbors, only four still operate dairy farms. They, like the vast majority of Wisconsin farmers, have herds of Holstein cattle. The Holstein are large black and white animals that have been bred to maximize certain characteristics. Chief among them, mammary size and milk production. Some of our neighbor cows are simply astounding to look at. Huge udders bulge out around back legs fore and aft, and milk drips from overflowing spigots when it's time to be milked. It is not uncommon for a farmer to fit a good producer with a bovine brassiere. A cow bra is large canvas bag supported by a strap harness hitched over the cow's back, and the bag provides some "lift" to an over endowed bossy. It also helps to keep any of the equipment from coming underfoot. A damaged faucet is tantamount to a death sentence. It simply isn't economical to feed an animal that's only hitting on three out of four cylinders. These gals live an uninspired life. Sex is an automated affair performed not by a handsome bull, but by a technician. No joy there. Additionally, cows now spend their days and nights locked by the neck in a barn stanchion. No fresh air or stretch of the leg, no change of scenery, no green grass and sun for these hard working ladies. And, when they can give no more, the call goes out to the knacker man. He comes down the road in a non-descript forest green truck with no lettering. High sides keep contents invisible to neighbors. The clue to the trucks purpose is the winch behind the cab. It is a sad end for an animal that gives so much and requires so little. So, appreciate your next glass of milk. It's so good, and so good for you. A cow somewhere has devoted her life to providing it for you. |
| As you already know, I have two almost full-grown cats. I'm putting out the call for a hairball remedy that actually works. I've tried everything I can find and, frankly, I'm surprised that either of them can move ten paces from the liter pan. They get hairball control dry food to munch on all day long. I feed them hairball control kitty treats, in excess of the recommended daily dose, I might add. I've squirted tubes of laxitone on paws, only to have it flipped with studied precision onto an upholstered chair, or the rug. That is, if I can wrangle the cats to apply it in the first place. All I need to do is head toward the room where the laxitone drawer is, and they are gone. I've mixed the tuna flavored stuff into their daily can of cat food which they love. This worked for a bit. They soon got wise to that ploy and stopped eating the canned cat food! I'm supposed to be smarter than they are, but I have run out of ideas. If you have an approach that really works, please share it with me. If not, let's put our collective heads together and create something. That's my next idea for how to make a million. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Barbs10 |
| Several months back, I stumbled onto a website that I just love. I have subscribed to it for one year at a cost of less than twenty dollars. I use it frequently and have found it very useful. Moreover, I've had great fun with it. The web address for this site is www.visualthesaurus.com . If you feel so inclined to check it out, the look-see is free. When you get to the home page, click on guided tour. Yhere, you will get an explanation of the various options on this site. |
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Thanks for these Barbs, we really miss you around here! Update us on everything some time alright! 