Concussed Bird

On Sunday afternoon Studly Doright rescued a little bird from a fate worse than death, namely spending the night in our garage.

The little guy and his mate had flown inside while Studly puttered around with the cars and he watched the bird slam headlong into one of the windows.

After a few trial and error attempts Studly finally had the bird safely in hand.

The poor thing was stunned, so we put him on top of Studly’s car until he could gather his wits.

I couldn’t resist stroking his soft feathers.

Then, in the blink of an eye he was gone, fully recovered from his escapade.

Safe travels, little guy.

Who’s That Girl?

Studly Doright and I watch a good many movies. New movies, old movies, funny movies, action movies, we like them all. Well, Studly doesn’t care for horror flicks, but everything else is fair game.

Studly is extremely gifted in the art of identifying actors in different roles. We will be watching a movie and he’ll lean over and whisper, “That’s Idris Elba,” and I’ll say, “No way.” He’ll insist and I’ll refute until I break down and google the answer. Sure enough, that’s Idris.

When I watch a movie I become so immersed in the story that the actor ceases to be an actor and morphs into the character he or she is portraying. But every now and then I’m the one who spots the actor, and when I do I celebrate with cries of jubilation. Last night was one of those nights.

We were watching an older movie on television and a fresh young actress seemed vaguely familiar. I turned to Studly and said, “That’s Mary Steenburgen!”

“No way!” He said.

“Is too!” I claimed. Quickly I googled the film and gave a triumphant shout. My victory was short lived though when he realized the male actor was Jack Nicholson and I argued with him. And of course, it was Jack.

I guess I’ll never be ahead for very long. Oh well, he doesn’t look nearly as good in a dress as I do.

If I had a Day Job, I Wouldn’t Quit It

Several weeks ago I shared with my readers my obsessive interest in the mobile app game Design Home. I’m totally hooked on this game in which participants design rooms for fictional homeowners.

Usually there are specific requirements for a design, such as “style a modern living room and include two wooden items and one orange item,” or “create a rustic dining room and include three leather items and the carcass of a dead cow.” I might have embellished that last one a bit.

Players scroll through a variety of furnishings to fulfill the requirements and then try to create an arrangement that is pleasing to the eye. During the day several such challenges pop up, and they truly are like puzzles. I live for these challenges.

When one isn’t engaged in designing a room, one can vote on the designs of other players. Now, this is an amusing activity. I always come away from voting feeling rather smug. Surely mine will score above most of the ones that come across my feed.

Here are a couple of examples of rooms other players have designed. Please note, none of these are my designs. I have no idea as of now how they’ll be scored in the end. Players are voting on them even as I type. Honestly I think my entries are way better, but I’ve been wrong before.

When ratings for a design are announced I hold my breath, cross my eyes, and mutter a prayer for a good score. A perfect score is a 5.00. I’ve scored three or four of those, including this design:

Ideally one hopes to score a 4.00 or above because a new furnishing is added to one’s inventory when that score is reached. But score below a 4.00, and woe is me! I scored a 3.93 on a design recently and shook my fist at the sky, crying, “The public doesn’t deserve my art!”

Studly Doright made me a cup of hot tea and led me back to my chair. I’m only sort of kidding.

And sometimes even a 4+ score makes me sad. I loved this design. Now tell me, isn’t this a perfect 5?

Okay, I’ve chatted long enough. Time to get back to my latest design in which I’m supposed to furnish a loft in Manhattan with a mix of contemporary and antique designs in tones of pea green and fuschia. Again, I’m only partly kidding.

Peace, people!

Game of Thrones Guesswork

Who else out there is watching the final season of Game of Thrones? Studly Doright and I have some major bets surrounding the outcomes of this series.

Who will rule from the Iron Throne?

Will someone finally do away with Littlefinger?

How many dragons will be lost?

Will Theon Greyjoy develop a spine?

Will Jon Snow realize who his parents are before becoming too attached to Daenerys?

Who gets to kill Cersei Lannister?

Will the living outwit the dead?

Will Tyrion find happiness?

How will I manage to go on once the series ends?

What other questions should we be pondering?

Last Day

Today I'm driving the Texas grandkids to the airport in Panama City, Florida, for their flight home to Dallas, Texas. Neither of have them have ever flown unaccompanied, and there are some jitters. Not on their parts, mind you, but underneath this calm exterior I'm going a little nuts.

We've had a good time these past two weeks spoiling these kiddos. Doright Manor will be awfully quiet once they leave.

Jackson’s Project

Poppa (aka Studly Doright) and grandson, Jackson, have been busy in Poppa's shop the past couple of days. Neither Dominique nor I were allowed to participate, so we had nary a clue what might be the outcome.

Late yesterday afternoon we were rewarded with the results of their labor:

It's a miniature katana sword and display stand inspired by a YouTube video Jackson had watched. Tomorrow they're planning on constructing a sheath for the sword.

Here's what the sword was originally:

A scarred paint scraper!

Now, I wonder if they can make me a crossbow in case of a zombie apocalypse….

Peace, people!

Risk and Reward

The Texas grandkids are visiting us here at Doright Manor, and they don't always want to do the same activities. Yesterday Studly Doright took Dominique to the Tallahassee Museum for zip lining adventures (Jackson doesn't meet the height requirements) while Jackson and I went to a local arcade.




I didn't take many photos though, because I was too busy being defeated in two player challenges. This kid knows his way around video games.

When we returned home I challenged him to an old-fashioned type of game.


I won, thank you very much.

Hopefully Studly Doright took some photos of his time with Dominique, but I won't hold my breath.

Peace, people!

Bike in a Box

Poppa (Studly) Doright and I keep motorcycles for the grandkids to ride when they come to visit. All year long he searches EBay and Craig's List looking for used bikes that are just the right model and size for each child. Once he gets the bike home to Doright Manor, Studly tinkers and tweaks until the bikes run like brand new ones.

He hit the jackpot with Jackson's little Honda.

But Dominique's scooter wasn't ideal for trail riding. She'd wanted one she didn't have to shift, and that part was great, but the scooter just didn't do well in the dirt.
So Poppa began scouring local ads and found what he thought might be the perfect bike. Unfortunately it came unassembled in a box:


But it didn't take long for the bike in a box to be ready for action.

It's a pretty little off brand thing called a Viper. Contrary to what the guy we bought it from told us, the Viper isn't an automatic, though, so Dominique still doesn't have a bike.

Back to the classifieds and Craig's List we go. It's one adventure after another here at Doright Manor.

Peace, people!

Opposites Attract

Forty-one years ago Studly Doright and I exchanged wedding vows in a small Baptist church in Dumas, Texas. We were young, dumb, and totally in love. We were also poor, a fact I didn't fully comprehend until I began counting the funds we had remaining after spending a quick honeymoon in the dubious luxury of the Camelot Inn in Amarillo, Texas. 

We'd gotten married on July 30, 1976, and I remember turning to Studly on our 45 mile drive back to Dumas, Texas, and the rental home we'd signed a six month lease agreement on and saying, "This can't be right. We only have a hundred dollars left and you won't get paid again until the 15th." 

Thus began my understanding that my life had changed forever. No longer was I under the financial protection of my mom and dad. I was now a partner in a brand new relationship that extended beyond romance and into the arena of money. I was woefully unprepared for this new reality.

Thankfully, Studly was barely more prepared than I had been. Did I mention how dumb we were? The difference between the two of us was that he never doubted his ability to provide. I worried, but he never did. 

Somehow, we always managed to scrape enough money together to pay the rent and buy groceries.

Nowadays, the money isn't as tight. I still worry, though. Studly still doesn't. I guess that's the whole opposites attract theory in action. We've made it this far and that's no small feat. I think we'll shoot for at least another twenty years.

Peace, people.

Unloading the Bikes

Sometimes having fun is hard work. Today Poppa, aka Studly Doright, and the grandkids took the bikes to a local riding park outside of Tallahassee. I went along just in case a chase vehicle was needed.

Poppa made sure both Dominique and Jackson played active roles in unloading their bikes.





While the three intrepid bikers took off down a series of dirt trails I sat in the car and read for awhile. Consequently, I have no exciting photos of their ride, only secondhand tales of near misses and wrong turns. In the end, my chase car services were necessary when Dominique's scooter suffered a minor breakdown. It is nice to be needed.

Peace, people, and safe travels.