A lot of people use their “blogs” as a platform for “Venting” about things….  to get things off the old chest.  To yammer about that which annoys or bothers them……  but what’s the point really?  I mean, okay, occasionally I will discuss some “issue” or allude to this or that.  But venting…… well, not so much.  Yeah, sure, I pass gas every now and again.  That is a form of venting, I would suppose.  Which brings to mind something.  If you are one of those people who stand in the grocery line, and eek out a fart, right after you pay…. and right before you walk away from the cashier…….. yes, snatching up your bags filled with heads of cabbage and beans and the like……, leaving the rest of us behind in your fetor…… hurrying out as Shirley the Gum-Chomping-Cashier looks over her black horned-rimmed glasses with a piercing glare, nostrils flaring……at the NEXT person in line…… IF you are one of those people…. WHY? I ask you.  WHY??????

Curses.  I’m the one always left standing there with a sheepish grin on my face, shuffling from side-to-side, trying to act like it wasn’t me…. which it WASN’T.    I am not venting.

This is venting:

The saddest day of the year?  Today, you guessed it.  Yep.  January 17th has been deemed the saddest, most depressing, most despicable day of the year.  (This, first published by Psychologist Dr. Cliff Arnell of Cardiff University, Wales, England).  It factors in things like weather, debt, and time since Christmas, failure of new year’s resolutions, low motivational levels, and …….blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.  What a load of crap, Clifford.

I’ll tell you the saddest day of the year…… ……. …again, a pile of tripe…. because YOU just CAN’T “Blanket Name” the saddest day of the year Clifford!  In the amazingly insightful words of Bart and Homer Simpson.
Bart:  This is the worst day of my life.
Homer:  No.  This is the worst day of your life, SO FAR.

January 17th can’t be the saddest. Benjamin Franklin was born today.  So was Mack Sennett, Anne Bronte, Michelle Obama… and what about Muhammad Ali, Robert Kennedy Jr., James Earl Jones, Jim Carey, Kid Rock, Maury Povich, and for crying out loud, Al Capone.  It is YOUR Birthday… so be happy and don’t wear any caution tape on your heads….  then again, it’s your party, you can cry if you want to.

Looky who came to town today.  Yes, Greenpeace sailed in and out.  I did not see any whales…just for the record.  Greenpeace got its start in 1970, when the Don’t Make A Wave Committee was established; its sole objective was to stop a second nuclear weapons test at Amchitka Island in the Aleutians.  Who knew, really?

But that’s not what I think of when I hear or see “Greenpeace.”  I think of green peas.  Then it morphs into Greensleeves, and then full circle into Mr. Green Jeans.  Oh how I loved Mr. Green Jeans, and Captain Kangaroo, Mr. Bunny Rabbit, Mr. Moose, Grandfather Clock, the Dancing Bear….. oh my gosh….. when the ping pong balls all fell from the ceiling…. I’d laugh and laugh.  Tom Terrific and his pal, Mighty Manfred the Wonder Dog.  We all need a Wonder Dog.  Just so happens…. I have two.  Life is good that way.

Thank God for Greenpeace.

And that folks, is how my brain works.

The Commissioners of Public Works, of Charleston, SC, approved the purchase of these very fine meter boxes from the Ford Meter Box Company in Wabash, IN.

Not sure about the logistics behind it.  Probably something like….  Rutledge, and Ashley Calhoun, two brothers serving on the Commission of Public Works had a couple of distant cousins up north.  They were the Fords, Bert and Joe, from Wabash, Indiana.  Well, you see how the rest of it works.  How else do meter boxes from Wabash end up in Charleston?  Who’s your little Hoosier?  Who’s  your turtle dove?

Just when you thought it was safe to be….let’s say….a Taurus like myself.    I’ve been a dang Taurus since the day I was born…. and…… as they say about Taurus’ in general… “I am influenced by my surroundings, and become morbid and morose when trying to live under uncongenial conditions….too easily misled by my emotions, sensations, or affections….. often appear ignorant and willfully obstinate to others.” Dag nab. With that sort of arresting description, who wouldn’t LOVE being a Taurus?

But now the rules have changed. An Astronomer (Parke Kunkle)… says there has been some sort of shift in the planets, or stars, or maybe the folks at astrology.com smoked some weed at lunch, and came back with a “sparkly” new idea to sell more subscriptions. Whatever the case, I am now married to an “Ophiuchus”….. whatever the heck that is. This seems like an uncongenial condition to me. I just better go skulk off to some corner, and become morbid and morose, before I turn into an Aries.

Here’s your wires, all crossed up:
Capricorn: Jan. 20 – Feb. 16
Aquarius: Feb. 16 – March 11
Pisces: March 11- April 18
Aries: April 18 – May 13
Taurus: May 13 – June 21
Gemini: June 21 – July 20
Cancer: July 20 – Aug. 10
Leo: Aug. 10 – Sept. 16
Virgo: Sept. 16 – Oct. 30
Libra: Oct. 30 – Nov. 23
Scorpio: Nov. 23 – Nov. 29
Ophiuchus: Nov. 29 – Dec. 17
Sagittarius: Dec. 17 – Jan. 20

The Article about all this Mess……

Hmmmm. There is A LOT going on in the world right now. Seems like there are huge amounts of negativity moving around our planet.

When I was growing up, my parents tried to teach me that “if I didn’t have something nice to say about someone, I shouldn’t say anything at all.” Good lesson, I think. I still have much work to do on this one….

At any rate, tonight, I wish to talk about some major events hitting the headlines lately. Specifically, Sarah Palin has been in the news quite frequently, so I will write about her this evening…………………………. well then……………….
First of all……….

…………………………………………….ummmmmm……………… ………………

…………um um um dee dum………………………. hmmm…………………………………..

….. hang on………….. I’m working on it…………………… …………………… hmmm.

Hmm. Hmmmmmmm. Hmmm………………… ummm ummeee…………………………… ….

Sarah Palin has brown hair. I saw a photograph of her standing near some pretty leaves once.

Here is a photo I took of some leaves.

As it happened today, I discovered something new on my walk home from a very sturdy and fulfilling breakfast. This is it: There is something called The Giant’s Causeway in County Antrim, Ireland. Why have I never heard of such a thing before this morning? Holy Crap. I mean, I knew about the Giant at the top of the Beanstalk…… the dude with the Golden Eggs. And I had heard about Goliath, and what was the little fella’s name? Danny? (No…. that’s not it… but you know who I mean. The slingshot boy.) I was familiar with Gulliver. Although is Gulliver really a giant? Or is it just that the Lilliputians are so dang small? I even know about San Francisco’s baseball team (although they look to be the same size as every one else.)

But here in my very midst, is a shrine to the Giant’s Causeway. (Is that like a Speedway, or a Costco, or something?) Whatever it is, apparently it is constructed of rocks. And…. it seems that somebody ran off with a few, and they left ’em up the street from my house….around 1851 or so……

Bowl of Kitty?

Or maybe, with all the football that is happening, it could be “The Kitty Bowl”

Either way, this cat is not supposed to be on our dining room table. It is not supposed to be in that centerpiece either. When the kitty gets in the bowl, it becomes an it… not a he. Bad kitty. I caught the “it” in the bowl during the wee hours of this very morning. (Of course I didn’t shoooo that very terrible feline out of the bowl. No. Instead, I sneaked over grabbed my camera.) But all of this…….. yes all of it, makes me wonder what else transpires in our animal kingdom as we sleep?

Cat Bowling? Or perhaps…. Fe-LINE Dancing….. (Oh my achey-breaky heart…..)

PETA People….. relax. The kitty is just fine. Spoiled rotten, actually.

bejeezus |biˈjēzəs| (also bejesus)
noun informal
an exclamation traditionally attributed to the Irish, used to express surprise or for emphasis. (First known use 1861).

Well, I can surely tell you WHERE it originated. Some poor schmuck came upon this statue in 1861, a statue which NOW sits very near my home….
……and…….. it scared the bejeezus out of him. The guy hurried home. His name was Lloyd, by the way. He said to his wife, “It smells liked cooked cabbage in this place….. but nevertheless Helen, guess what just happened to me?” (his wife’s name was Heloise, but everyone called her Helen.) Anyway….. He say’s…. “Guess what happened Helen? I was walking by Nate Russell’s house…… saw this horribly creepy statue, and it scared the Living Bejeezus out of me.”

And that’s how it happened… on this very date….. in 1861. One hundred and forty years later, it is still scaring the bejeezus out of people………. concisely….. me.

(Who would make something like this……? Really……?)

Today is the ninth day of January. I take special note of several days throughout the year… most notably the days on which my loved ones (family & friends)…..were born. So today is of that specific consideration. Happy Birthday Loved One.

You see, I am the youngest of a clan of 7. Two of my siblings were born on this date. No, they are not twins….. they were birthed 6 years apart. A boy and a girl. Fred and Elane. Fred was born on a Wednesday, Elane on a Thursday.

Here’s the 7 breakdown, because I know you won’t be able to sleep tonight without it…..(the names throughout this post have been changed to protect the unwitting).

Kid 1-Thursday
Kid 2-Friday
Kid 3-Wednesday
Kid 4-Wednesday
Kid 5-Thursday
Kid 6-Sunday
Kid 7-Wednesday

I may have a theory about “Days of the Week” and birth information. I definitely have a theory about which ovary each egg came from. (One consistent sperm source throughout.) Sooooooo…. Fredster & Elaney…. I made you a photo for your birthday on this very night. They are Magnolia Pods. (The Magnolia is named for Pierre Magnol a French Botanist…who was born on June 8, 1638, which was a Friday.)