Blogging, to take over the world.
The object is to teach an old dog new tricks. (not much hope ... )|
I have never mentioned Thandora-the-elephant before.
She was added to the collection at our national zoo when she was four years old. Then another twenty three years in captivity where she was fed, cared for, and had company at all times - even if it was mainly human. Her previous mate passed away a while back, and all she had as company was her handler/feeder.
Her enclosure was an open area; so long by so wide, an island with a moat around it, and an elephant house.
I had read that the elephant house was not well kept by the staff (SPCA said so) and then somehow the move was put into being to remove Thandora to a newer and better place, where she should be set 'free'.
This better place was a long, long way to the south, a different climate condition close to the sea, in a game park, with other elephants who live semi wild.
This story has a happy ending in one way, Thandora was freed, free to start a new life.
They say she developed something or other, and she passed away.
The pathway is paved with good intentions, ask me, for I know it all too well.
Maybe we will live and learn.
Oh, the last time I saw her, she happily reached for the thorntree twigs I offered her at the zoo. And she followed us till we left her - all alone - with no one to play with.
Thorntree twigs are nice and edible, and there were no thorns in that story. The gum from the tree is quite yummy, having eaten it quite a few times myself. Also, the tree is no fool, it has thorns to protect itself as many animals like its leaves.
The events in mid Africa, concerning elephant poaching, is reaching ''red status''.
It means that within a very short time, all the great tuskers will turn into ornaments, some one will smile at his or her new gift made of ivory, and a gene pool, a thing, an animal, a work of art by nature, a living being, will be gone forever.
At least we have great photos to show of what once was.
This week past, a diver passed away, as he was filming the illusive coelacanth.
Now we can officially welcome the fish into our space as a part of our heritage.
In memorial to the divers and crews who pay the price to bring the underwater world to the rest of us.
As for feathers, the Cuckoo is spoilt, it refuses to eat - Mommy Daddy dearest has to feed the beast.
work in progress - lunch called - still on lunch
May 26, 1897: Dracula goes on sale in London
The first copies of the classic vampire novel Dracula, by Irish writer Bram Stoker.
It became a great success, the other stories by Stoker still fills the bookshelves.
Consider a general idea, very few authors have achieved success with more than a few books.
The classic writers did not have the modern movie industry to promote their works.
A few were chosen as outstanding, such as Shakespeare, Austen, and Poe.
Most movies are based on some one's work.
Steinbeck, London ... the list is long.
Waiting, waiting, waiting ...
Watches the clock by the calender, Wednesday 4th - another D-day.
Another piece of the puzzle, another move on the board, this game may never end.
Still - it looks positive; unless that one has another agenda, it would be a pity if it was to be.
Round number (?) I have forgotten ...
Monday again, and the waiting game goes on.
We are creatures of tomorrow, we live for tomorrow -
when you lose all hope, then you live in the day, the moment.
|The merry month of May; the world is still on its axis, tilted slightly to favor the one group with summer's treats, and the other to reap what was sown.
The moon was clear on the cool evening horizon (14th), peeking through trees.
Light in the sky which is no light at all, only a reflection of what is on the other side.
Yet it is more revered than the golden orb of day - as the candle shows us the way.
Another crazy item on the news; bombings, murders, abductions, elections, crimes, and who is going to pay ?
Some one once said: "Spring, the time of year, when a young man's fancy turns to what the damsels have been thinking of all winter long."
When things are a certain way, men are men and women allow men to say, feel, and think, thus. This is the way it has always been.
What really makes a person who or what the person is.
There are many factors which come into play.
We blame the fathers, and their fathers, who in turn will blame something else.
"The apple falls not far from the tree." it is said.
Then who planted the tree, and planted into such fertile or arid soil, who is to say?
In this cold, the Sheepdog dropped in for a bit of warmth. It must really be cold over there.
As he receives very little here, as we do not want him to grow attached to us.
Still - he comes ...
Today a silly story popped into my mind - stop me if you have heard it before.
There was this new doctor at the place where they keep all the funny people.
He was walking around on the grounds when he spotted a man pulling a piece of twine, it had a toothbrush at the one end.
Thinking to get things going, and start a conversation;
"Nice looking dog you have there."
The other man looked at the doctor;
"You well or what, can you not see it is a toothbrush?"
The doctor, taken aback a bit;
"Sorry there, why are you pulling it around?"
The man frowned;
"You ever tried pushing it?"
Never assume. I must remember.
|The tale of the Basset has a new twist in the tail/tale.
Basset was bartered into exile - he was sold to a new owner who will move him to a country far away, never to be seen by me - ever again. I will miss the scoundrel, as his bark was no worse than his bite, and both were always on a friendly note.
This will be the year of the Stork.
Already the one son became a dad, now there are two more who will be become fathers this year.
Three offspring in one year ?
I'll have to get the bull in on this story.
1st of May - Worker's Day
This we celebrate by doing nothing or having a feast.
A strange way I would think - to honor labor.
Now don't expect me to be doing anything ...
Bob Hoskins - actor - played his last role today 29.4.14 at the age of 71
I realized one day that men are emotional cripples. We can't express ourselves emotionally, we can only do it with anger and humor. Emotional stability and expression comes from women. When they have babies they say "hello, you're welcome" and they mean it. It is an emotional honesty.
Having him in a movie - it worked.
The day of the election has arrived. May 7th 2014
Once again we decide who will run the country.
As I do not care much for politics, therefore should not comment too much - so I was told.
I do care, I care very much, only - who does one vote for - when no one will honor their manifesto.
Robbing Peter to pay Paul -
Robin Hood; robbing the rich to pay the poor, and then the poor are rich, so we rob them.
Works for me.
10th May - and the election is officially done - and the people have chosen.
Not a thing has really changed - except that group over there - beware the Ides ...
David Niven wrote a book with that title.
David Niven is(was) an actor and featured in the original Pink Panther movie.
It is the month of the moon, red, blooded, and eclipsed, this month the moon is the show.
Do watch your near and dear for any strange behavior, hairy growths, marking of the territories, and any other dog-like habits.
It is the month of the were-wolf, one can never be too safe. Beware.
We (the people of this country) is warming up for a general election.
I have never quite understood politics.
The same people who was in trouble for the last period are promising they will not make the same mistakes again.
Yet there are no changes offered ?
If I were a betting man, I think I could double my money easily on this one.
We is ...
We; as in a democracy, therefore 'we' become one - ergo - we is.
Monday - the day of the rabbit (Easter bunny)
Comics and sarcasm - the lowest points of literature and wit, so I was told long ago, while using both to improve my stature in life.
Then these were swopped for classics and finer saki, the improvement was not noticeable as my taste in friends and drink stayed the same.
Methinks that coal by any pressure will stay just that, diamonds are only formed under extreme situations.
|Into every life, the Reaper will call.
A negative week ...
My Mom's youngest sister passed away after a battle with the great C.
Then again, a child (who is a grown man, still a child to me) fought his last round - again the C.
This is the way of life, the way of all flesh.
Winter is dusting off the trees, leaves everywhere, dust all over, even the sun is clocking in later in the morn and leaving earlier in the evening.
The electric blanket is a welcome addition to the night's rest.
Soon frost will be a daily thing.
to be cont'
Sometimes one has to be there to see the funny in the moment, let me see if I can share this.
There we were, cleaning up all the rubbish, some of these items were scavenged from the Ark.
The last ten years this place was rented out to panel-beaters, goat-farmers, scoundrels, and a few other assorted strange people - and that coming from me - says a lot!
Sorting the hoard was in the one cent, two cent, five cent, and ten cent, groups; that is called sub grade, small steel, large steel, the mother lode - copper and aluminum.
Should one want to follow this as a serious source of income, it may be worth it.
While we were busy, my two neighbors, the Basset and Snip the Chihuahua dropped by for a visit.
This duo is worth seeing.
The Basset is like an overstuffed sausage with short bow legs, large dog's head, with droopy ears which sweep the ground, the baying bark, and a nose built for picking up a scent like a vacuum cleaner.
Next to him, Snip looks strange, a peewee little thing who has never seen food, and bred to move the hardest heart into pampering it, and yet, there beats the heart of a lion in that small frame. Cheeky and cocky - as he considers himself the equal of the Basset.
Then Tail, the mongrel bitch, came to sniff this little thing - called Snip - the wagging tail said she had taken a liking to the pee-wee thing.
There where Snip lives are many dogs, yet, a mongrel bitch has never shown any interest in him before, and he ran - tail between his hind legs, and she followed ever happily for a joyous romp.
A few minutes later Snip came charging in and hid behind Basset, and there Tail could sniff him properly all over, and Snip seemed to think that this bitch was going to do him some bodily harm as he cowered behind Basset.
A minute or two later, Snip calmed down, sauntered off - head held high - as if the incident never took place.
I wonder what sweet nothings Tail whispered in the Snip's ear ?
So much for cougar stories.
Time waits for no one, it marches on without favor to all.
Use it well, waste it badly, it does not matter - it proceeds on at its own pace.
I cannot believe how much time has gone by and still no advance worth much has been achieved.
Single mindedness of the objective should be required - disregard all else - this may be the path to the goal.
Then - there is so much to see, so many new things to take in, the journey is always the most fun.
Why bother with the goal when the trip is so tempting ?
Being cryptic again about what the situation is on the ground.
Let us see what is in the bag or as they say; letting the cat out of the bag -
(sayings, and the history behind them, another sideline to discover - back to the 'situation'.)
The first property issue is recorded in the book called the Bible. (stands to be corrected?)
The case there was as follows:
The tenants did not comply to the t&c's* as stipulated by the landlord.
They were then ordered to vacate the property, which they did.
Beginning or end of story?
I heard; they and/or their descendants still have a case pending.
My situation is not as drastic.
I own a small piece of Paradise which was bought long ago.
The road leading to this land-locked property went over two adjacent farms.
For the sake of simplicity - lets call the farms F1 and F2.
I would have liked to be able to take poetic license and call the farms Sodom and Gomorrah, then things are not that bad.
The farm F1 changed hands, the new owner closed the road, offered a new route, and there the war started.
A simple case one would say.
Get a lawyer, pay him/her an arm and a leg, and the case is solved. Simple!
Let us review this situation -
Who said 'Simple!' ?
This is where the story starts.
Once upon a time there was a simple man who lived in Paradise ...
We need a hero, a heroin, a villain with all his hence-men, a crooked lawyer or two, and a law system which will turn Solomon the Wise into a driveling idiot, and lots and lots of money.
... and a scribe to write the story.
* terms and conditions = t&c's
A very impolite saying ' not till the fat lady has sung' - then, all is well that ends well.
When the victory songs are sung, the flags waving, the money is in the bank, then, only then - will the fight be done.
Or as my boss used to say, "it is all done bar the shouting."
Monday's hue is blue and it is raining cats and dogs.
We are running between droughts and floods, a crazy weather to contend with.
It is strange that with all this rain, we will still have a drought.
The grass stops to grow in March (summer time in the South) and it only started raining at the end of December - it gave a very short growth period.
At least the dams will be full, the farmers who grow wheat and other winter crops should have a better year.
Dog, the truest creature to ever be, yet there are always exceptions to all rules.
The story was read a while back, then last night the DVD was looked at - Hachiko - A Dog's story - tissues were the order of the day.
Then today, the Basset pitched up again, bringing his compadre with him - the Sheepdog - and in tow, a snippet of a creature called a Chihauhau.
Later on the Sheepdog and the Snip left back home, the Basset shadows me again.
This is no movie, there are no tissues, the story will have a sad ending somehow.
I hope I do not have to see it, hear it, or read about it.
Only - I am part of the story, I tell part of it, I live part of it, and yet - I want no part of it.
That is a lot of 'I'.
The moon would be at its best tonight 16th @19h08 - vampires and tides, take note.
And it is Monday again, still as blue as ever, and its child's face is fair - maybe even leading onto grace which will be Tuesday's child
The beginning of a story which was never even thought of, was never supposed to be, yet happened, this is it.
Most people live a lie. There is the perfect lie, the perfect life, the perfect everything, all ending in an aura of the perfect imperfection.
Yesterday, this person, a political bigwig, who objected strongly to a group of students, they apparently used the 'salute' of the Third Reich for some reason.
He hotly took them to task - rightly so (?) - and while he took them on, he was saluting with the clenched fist of his creed - rightly so (?).
And in the privacy of my being, my salute would have been the V for Victory sign - I can never remember which direction the backhand should face.
At the close off of a story, it can be decided, should it be open ended; that is - close off with a question mark, exit with a bang, or use an anticlimax.
Whichever way, an author can play around with the story.
In real time, in real life, it will be as it is and most will have no say in the matter.
The only offer one will have is - what did one leave behind ?
Brown, as in white and brown is the color of the Basset, and along side him, his trusty mate, the Sheepdog dressed in black and white ---
Yes, they are back.
It must be a bad day at the ranch if even the dogs run away.
Now I am assuming again, I do this far too frequently, this assuming thing.
Who said assume is about an ass, you, and me ?
My neighbors dogs have taken a shine to me - no - I did not offer them a bone, scratched their backs, or even promised them any delight of any kind.
Yet - here they are again, and still hoping for something.
The Ark is full, there is no more place, how did Noah feel about the situation ?
Then I went to oogle google about the name for my story, lo and behold, it was already taken.
There is not much new under the sun and still, new things are found every day.