Egg or Turd?

Wednesday as I sat typing at the kitchen table I caught movement in my peripheral vision. Just outside my window a turtle seemed to be laying an egg or eggs.

As soon as she moved away, having covered the fruits of her labor, I went outside and placed an empty flower pot atop the disturbed earth in order to protect the eggs from scavengers.

Of course now I’m wondering if she was indeed a she. If not, I’m most likely protecting turtle turds. Good times at Doright Manor. 

Peace, people!

Snapshot #170

I panicked when I realized I hadn’t taken a picture for the blog today. Fortunately, the subject needn’t be deep, just close at hand.  I call this one, “My Left Foot, Not the Film, the Appendage.” (Note the bandage. I believe I was bitten by a radioactive spider and will soon develop super powers, or not.)

The Ballad of the Washing Machine

The Ballad of the Washing Machine
(with apologies to all poets)
By Leslie Noyes

A dark and stormy night, it was
(With a nod to good old Snoopy),
Thunder boomed and lightning struck,
All our appliances then went loopy.

The tv died, our elliptical fried,
Repairmen were soon called,
And all was made as good as new,
Except for the washer, there we stalled.

I made plans with GE service,
A technician soon would arrive,
But he fell ill, and couldn’t come,
For another week we’d strive.

Off I went to the laundromat,
Two baskets full of clothes,
There I was accosted in broad daylight,
By a man who didn’t know “no!”

The GE man was finally well,
When he arrived with a smiling face,
“All you need is this new part;
I’ll order with due haste.”

A week went by and he returned,
The part was here and ready.
“Oh dear,” he said, “This part’s not right!”
I felt less than steady.

So I returned to the laundromat,
With detergent and some mace,
But no one messed with me this time,
I had on my mean game face.

Seven more days I waited for news,
We finally got a part,
Back came the man from old GE,
“Oops, I hate to break your heart.

“Your machine is unrepairable,
It suffered a fatal blow,
So I can’t help you; sorry folks,
This washer has to go.”

I muttered a phrase beneath my breath
It rhymed with “duck, duck, duck,”
Then traipsed off to the laundromat
Hoping for better luck.

Now I must buy a new machine,
And it won’t match my dryer,
This model is no longer made
And the cost will be much higher.

This ends my tale, at least for now,
I’ve run out of patience and bucks
There’s nothing to say, but that old phrase,
That rhymes with “duck, duck, duck.”

All Points Bulletin

I stumbled into the middle of a manhunt in Tallahassee today. I’d gone to eat lunch at Firehouse Subs on Capital Circle having become slightly addicted to their New York Streamer sandwich. The small size is only 360 calories and it tastes so darned good. But back to the manhunt.

As I walked out of the restaurant I heard the distinct sounds of a helicopter directly above me. I waved, for what it’s worth, and went on to my car. 

When I turned into a side street I saw a police cruiser, lights flashing, partially blocking the road. An officer standing by her patrol car waved me through. I still hadn’t connected her presence with the hovering helicopter, but when I turned the next corner and saw three cruisers and a police van, I realized I was probably in the middle of something big. 

I was just trying to get back to Capital Circle so I could go home, so I kept driving and turned right again. There, coming down the sidewalk toward my car was a police canine and his cop. That dog had the scent and was pulling hard on his leash. 

Hurriedly I found a way out of the area and drove to Home Depot a few blocks away. As soon as I was parked I googled breaking news in Tallahassee. Two possibilities popped up.

Now, I’m not sure which of these headlines is pertinent to the manhunt. One would certainly be more interesting than the other.

Was it this person they were using dogs to search for?

Or this one?

You know which one I’m rooting for, right?

Peace, people. And for goodness sake, put on some clothes!