It is impossible to resist reading the statistics, gathered by Google, about traffic to Chickenblog. I am a curious being. The title of today's post is inspired by the top search words that have brought readers to this blog. The symbols are added to thwart the readers searching for images of b@boon posteriors... etc. Yes, it's true, this blog is a crushing disappointment, to many.
A long time ago, I promised Max and Alex that they could have pet frogs. I asked them to wait until we were in our own home. This is the year, the season, of the frogs. Max is particularly eager. I may have delayed a bit too long for Alex. They both love frogs very much... enough to have researched, studied, and even to refrain from keeping them as pets. A recent visit to a nature center, and new ideas and information about local species has rekindled the interest. We are ready.
We have also debated bringing home another cat. We miss Ferris. And Diego. And Nena. And Bongo. And Mabel, Scooter, Burrito, Max, Mijo, and Mitzi (who was a dog, but you get the idea Oh, and to ease your concern that I listed a lot of dead pets, please bear in mind I am recalling the pets of two families, over forty years, plus we've had a lot of pets, I guess.)
When I was a girl we knew a dog named William F. Muttley. He was a Pekingese. William F. Muttley had a daughter, black and white, like her dad, and she lived with us. We named her ChiChi. She was a funny dog, or least I remember her as a dog that made us laugh, a lot.
I have this thing about other people's dogs. I love other people's dogs. But I don't want a dog. I just want to love Homer, Satchmo, Haley, Henry, Wall E., Rocko, Buddy, and all the dogs we give biscuits to when they are walked by our home.
I want miniature goats. Vegetarian dogs. There are two, female minis at a feed store, right now. I could go. Today, and bring them home. And then be in a heap of trouble, because it's crazy to want goats, and to bring them home on the spur, without so much as a rope or fence, or good sense about caring for them.
Common sense, and thinking things through, can be such a bummer.
The whole goat thing makes getting a kitten seem like a slam-dunk.
My mom made twenty-eight bracelets for FIRST 2102 Team Paradox. She made earrings, too. All the fun pieces are in team colors, red, blue, yellow. I passed them out this week. It was fun. And, Mom, you should know, everyone really loved them. They were very appreciative. I was appreciative too, because I couldn't figure out a snack to bring. It turns out there was more than enough food, but you can't have too much jewelery!
And sharing my mother's gift gave me something to do, besides take pictures. I am not agoraphobic, but I love my camera even more than I love other people's dogs, because it gives me a focus<---pun! It gives me purpose, an activity, distraction, object-to-hide-behind when I am out in the world, especially in social situations. I might be shy. I might be understating. I am shy, and something else I don't know the word for.
Today, I may go to the garden center and bring home more blueberry bushes. We have three, waiting to be planted. But I think with seven, sometimes more, people living and making and eating here, well... seems like it couldn't be too much to have lots and lots of blueberries growing and ripening, waiting to be plucked and enjoyed. That is the same reasoning I used when we took out four do-nothing-shrubs, yesterday, and started planting a guava tree, another apricot, and three blackberry vines. Now I am looking at a do-nothing-tree and thinking about replacing it with one more guava variety.
I see so many metaphors, and ideas in these pictures. And I recall wonderful utterances heard, and feelings enjoyed during our little outing. Whatever this blog is not, for me it is, at least, a dear collection of deep thoughts, random musings, and moments I hold sacred,
or all of the above.
As for search engines, and statistics: Here are a pair of ducks. Mallard ducks. A drake and a hen. Ducks swimming up stream. One duck is male, and the other duck is female. The drake and hen are handsome, and winsome. The ducks are in the water, facing an easterly direction, and thinking of finding some duck weed, and a nice place to settle for spring, before they raise ducklings. Ahead of the ducks is a bridge which crosses the stream from north to south, or otherwise. When the ducks reach the bridge, they will not have to duck, because it is a high bridge, and they are in a low stream. Ducks like puns, very much, especially when they are feeling down. Nothing quacks them up more than a silly play on words.
If you feel you have reached this blog in error, please, leave a comment stating your actual interests, and we will share a list of suitable alternatives for you to explore in the future. Or just share any random, or ducky, thoughts you would like, and we can chat.
I leaf it to you.