Yesterday

We're experiencing October in September this week. A stiff breeze swept the lake into whitecaps and threw sand in our eyes. Undeterred we walked down to the shore to spy any birds who might like their picture taken and to see of the lake had produced any treasures.


I love the lake 365 days a year. Still, clammy ninety-degree heat is problematic, and extreme cold and wind make you glad you own longjohns and fat mittens, but they won't keep me away.

RAM tough

I enjoy feeling cranky once in a while. Today has given me several opportunities to indulge. It’s not exactly one of “those” days, but a heavy offering of Me-Me-Me!! Syndrome has presented itself.

First off, I’d like to thank the sophomoric master of the universe who drove his truck onto the beach, first traversing its length in between the road and the lake and then going for it, grinding all the gears (except the ones in his head) in a muscular push to motor it along the shoreline. Behold the result.

Moneyed beach combers informed us that four years ago a brand new $80,000. Hummer and its owner found themselves in similar straights. Fortune smiled upon them in that instance, because beachcomber’s husband propelled his old time Hummer onto the sand and pulled the $80,000. Hummer team out of the drink. They actually went all the way into the water.
Ha ha. Are you laughing yet?

(There is a squiggly red line under the second ‘ha’. That’s annoying me, too.)
Second, my gratitude extends to the six (6) females departing the caffe with two f’s, who allowed me to hold open the door for them with nary a peep of thanks.

Last, I'd like to recognize the Mercedes SUV which awaited my removal of myself and my car from a desirable parking space. The driver - license plate ‘Funzini’ - grew impatient at my needless, seconds-long stowing of my purse and laptop and gunned the accelerator in disgust.

Just then I felt an urge to dust the dashboard and powder my nose. She screetched her vehicle around the corner on 2 1/2 wheels while failing to heed the stop sign, blazing past the retirement hotel in a cloud of diesel
fuel searching for another slot.

It’s Friday on the sunset coast.

Friday bird blog

Meet Mrs. Mallard Duck, mistress of the North Lake, an adorable pond, where she apparently lives by herself, except for frogs, herons and other passers-by. She greets everyone with uninterrupted quacking, paddling all through the reeds and lily pads, commenting on affairs of the day and night with an occasional dip to grab a snack.

Here she waddled out of the pond to get a closer look at me. It would have been bad manners to come to me straight away, so she groomed herself for about 10 minutes, ignoring me and my camera. She must have many callers, because she didn’t hesitate one bit before emerging from the water. Her regulars most surely bring her gifts and goodies. I had only friendly chit chat to offer.

As a rule the female mallards I have observed are hard working and harried, managing multiple ducklings in their care while the males are off in a group smoking cigars and quaffing cognac. Per haps the guardian of North Lake sent her mate packing. The kids were nowhere in sight. All grown up.

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Target says this is Franklin Roosevelt. Who are we to disagree?