A Great Blue Heron! If you look closely, you can actually see his tongue. Now we know where the poly wogs came from! Our fountain is full of them. The poly wogs eat the algae and keep the water clean, so we are happy
My new story was going so well, then all of a sudden, nothing. Maybe it was the nice weather. I would so more rather be outside working on something, than sitting in front of a computer daydreaming. I don’t think it is writers block; I think it is rebellion.
Abby and Michael are staying in his parent’s tavern and have just spent the night bundling. Now they are on their way to retrieve the sawmill parts from the ship docked near by on the Hudson River, and here my daydream stops. Maybe I should go on to something else.
How does one haul saw mill parts, what ever they might be, through a wilderness where no trail exists? How do you make it interesting, entertaining and adventuresome? Help, I need inspiration.
Once you start something, never look back; I did and I found out things I didn’t want to know. Now I need a major revision to the premise of my new story. Ignorance can certainly be bliss. Continue reading
You may wonder why I care about the Old Post Road. There are two reasons. First I lived near the Post Road as a youth and I often road my horse along it on my way to swim in Kinderhook Creek (Jamie’s creek) after chores on a hot summer night. At the time, Continue reading
It’s a glorious clear sunny day, and unusual for this part of the world at this time of the year (Lake Ontario provides lots of snow and clouds). Continue reading
All through high school I was something of an adventurous reader and sometimes it became a problem. In one of my English classes, our assignment was to read some nonfiction; our choice. Continue reading
My mother was afraid of horses, or maybe more accurately, uneasy around them. After all, they are large and my mother barely made it to five feet, so it seemed natural that she would avoid getting to close to Amigo. A safe distance was behind Continue reading
One of my favorite past times, as a kid of sixteen, was crow hunting. I used to spend hours following flocks of crows, trying to get close enough to shoot one. Back then, flocks of two or three hundred crows were not uncommon. Continue reading
Terry the Dog, who was part Doberman and part Shepard, was brought up in Newark, New Jersey. When I first met him, I was about fifteen or sixteen and he was about two years old and needed a new home because he had out grown his old home and outstayed his welcome. Continue reading
Sue here. Just a quick comment.
Copper our beloved dog and family pet died unexpectedly Sunday. She was 14 years old and we’ve had her since she was weaned at 6 weeks.
It is amazing how one misses tripping over the dog in the kitchen. (She was always right underfoot waiting for a “goodie” or some tasty morsel to fall on the floor.) Bill misses her “help” feeding the horses. She eagerly went with him daily to the barn.
She was truly a part of the family and will be sorely missed. Unfortunately, I don’t have any current (ie. digital) pictures I can post. All the older non-digital ones are hanging in collages on the wall!
The whole family is a bit devastated, but the blogs will continue later in the week.