Blogging, to take over the world.
The object is to teach an old dog new tricks. (not much hope ... )|
The words "Were they (farmers) then happy?" comes to mind here.
The rains came, the rain which made the drought end.
Mother Nature and all her minions rose to the occasion - water, water, everywhere; and the 'dance' started.
All begat, begot, and multiplied - the good; the bad; and the ugly!
The Ugly is the group which make themselves stand out, multiple feet, wings, slither, creep, crawl - they get there, they have waited a long time; their share they want, it was a given, the pests will have their share and in turn will part with the calling card.
Take a card; the picture will be a skull 'n cross-bone, this is the way - every silver lining has a cloud and some of those clouds can be big and dark.
Stock loss is the result - farming is the game.
Tomorrow the sun will shine, the cold will set in and chase all those nasty away.
Winter will take its toll, it is the way.
Life goes on, sometimes things do not change, they stay the same.
This much seems to be true in this case.
THE TIME IS 2AM, this is the time when Penguin would wake me to be taken out for a walk.
This is also the time her son wakes me, not to be taken out, as he is already out, he is making such a racket playing and barking.
Playing is - chasing his toy, which makes an awful lot of noise on the cement floor in front of the door outside.
HE is the offspring of Penguin who passed away when he was born.
Time flies, 8th October, last year, HE was born, now he wakes me with all his energy as a teenager, playing the night away.
He would like nothing better for me to go out there and play with him - - -
I would like nothing better to sleep, rather than take the dog out.
Guess - who lets the dog out? (at 2am)
Like Mother - like Son.
|There is the story which has been told many times - certain stories need to be re-told, such is the fate of stories.
The Sunday School teacher told the kids the story of Noah and the great flood. At the end of the story, the teacher asked if there were any questions.
Little John, whose dad was a farmer, asked "Teacher, were the farmers then happy with all the rain?"
Officially this can be said today, the worst drought recorded in a hundred years is at an end, now we got flooded - just can't win!
So much for being a farmer, always something to be thankful for.
This is at the end of summer, at least we will have a good winter crop.
(These floods are not everywhere, time will tell the story in full)
|Puns and toilet stories are the worst ever subjects, yet, sometimes, they can be worth a retell.
Like the time the wife heard one of the kids flushing the bowl, time and time again.
When she looked in on the youngster, there he was, pressing the handle down, then peering very intently into the bowl.
Wife asked the young what was the problem.
The answer was "It won't go away ..."
Wife went closer to look at the 'problem'.
A kitten, half drowned, was battling the numerous assaults not to be flushed into eternity.
The usual discussions followed, to date, no living creatures were flushed again, none that I know off.
Why this story now?
Yesterday, I was woken with the words "Wake up - come look here ..."
The sun was still low on the horizon, darkness was slowly leaving the scene.
A look into the bowl in the half light; there was something in there, dark, and moving.
My fuzzy brain thought 'T'is ain't normal, what the ...'
The Porta-light (torch) was called for - and in the light - there it was; a great big hairy nasty rat! Half drowned and trying to get out, not willing to be flushed away.
This story has a nasty ending, sensitive souls should not read anymore ...
The BBQ pliers was used to get hold of the rat's tail, the tail was then carefully picked up in a rag, and the body with the BBQ tool, into a big bucket, another bucket on top - outside, where the unfortunate rat was introduced to Sylvester, the Cat.
Less said the better, except the cat now follows me closely, with a happy Cheshire cat grin.
|The end is in sight ...
The hundred year drought may be done.
Rumors of storms, floods, and suchlike events have reached our ears.
Down the road, a hundred miles or so, in the city where J R R Tolkien was born - there were floods.
and here the geese looked down the road; "Oh, is that so?" ... looking for a blade o' green grass.
Life went on as before:
'Ol mother went to the cupboard
To fetch the sheep a bale o' hay.
When she got there - the deer had a say.
Sorry M'am, we ate it all yesterday.'
So we wait a while longer - maybe we will see water come our way, just maybe ...
|Just as well I never made New-Year's plans.
The issues went from 'great-ideas' to 'what was it again' or 'one never remembers Murphy's Laws'.
Not all bad, the silver lining is still visible, there is more of it - considering the cloud grew in size. A silver lining should always be in the eye, else there is no hope of a tomorrow.
The worst drought in a 100 years went to year 101. May we say 'Happy Birthday' to bad news, it means the end is closer?
It will be a busy year, much depends on so many factors out of ones control - still we will try.
Things are worse for others, starts to count my blessings ...
|The date is the 23rd, in another few weeks, a month and a bit, the year will be done.
Looks at the >>>[LIST]<<< and hopefully it will be shorter in the new year.
The World needs nothing from man, yet man owes the World, which we as mankind seem to forget.
There is much to be said, not much will be new news.
Time will tell ...
|A custom of way back, to congratulate, to celebrate, to announce a happening - a new addition to the family - at long last.
Now, normally a puppy would be an event of some joy, depending on the who, when, and why.
In this case, Madam Penguin (yes, a canine called such) eventually got round to the facts of life, and in her advanced age became a mother.
All is well, mother and puppy are doing well.
A cross miniature Doberman and Toy Pom. The less said, the better.
Update - 10/10/2018 @ 8pm
Complications set in, the mother was not as well as we thought.
There was a fetus still in her, and the vet removed it.
Sepsis may have set in, and she passed away.
Life goes on in her puppy, she will be missed.
Such is life ...
Requiem for a Life well lived:
Penguin for 12 years of always being there.
The Eclipse of the year came on as a spectacular show, it was a 'clear and calm night', as clear as daylight - almost. Only one minor issue marred the affair, it was a 'cold, clear and calm night' and the cold cut the visiting period short for me.
For those who did not see it, it is available at various internet sites dated 27th of July 2018.
Spring is in the air, babies are arriving, an antelope, a calf, lambs from Mary, Sue, even a set of twins from Ann, waiting for more --- soon the bugs and bees will abound.
Many more events planned for the rest of the year.
|@ 01H15 (or close to it) the Toy Pom started to have pups.
So the Father of the pups told me. He announced the happy affair loud and clear, so much so, the caretaker (author/me) was woken up to tend to the ... (what am I supposed to do?) affair.
All which was to be done, was already done - except the offering of congratulations. There - this is what is required - here; everyone ... have a dog biscuit, for we have puppies!
No, I have not counted them yet, the process is still in progress, and I am having a cuppa brew, the best English tea, or so the advert said.
Update will follow soon, now I must tend to affairs.
02H10 One pup, (black; questions will be asked, as Dad and Mom are both tan)
Oh, never looked, boy or girl?
07H00: one stillborn, tally stays at one.