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September 1, 2016 5:15 am / Leave a comment

Today I share with you the writings of a fellow blogger who I’ve come to admire and appreciate. His name is Sir David Prosser, and his web site is https://barsetshirediaries.wordpress.com

In his about me column he writes:

A retired ex Local Government Officer with a horse mad wife, a sadistic cat who acts as my alarm clock at the time he wants me to get up, and a daughter who must be wonderful because she thinks her dad is. I live in a small village in North Wales and became an author almost by accident when a friend liked a day’s diary I sent her in answer to a ‘How was your day”? query. Needless to say the day was a fiction from start to finish.

I was lucky enough to meet another author who became both friend and editor for me, I can’t say THANK YOU often enough. Ilil Arbel is an exceptional person and I hope to have the pleasure of making her the first author I interview on this site.

I have come to enjoy writing and using characters I meet as part of the stories. Not only does Lady J nag less when she’s reading my books but I have the thrill of hearing someone laugh out loud and knowing I caused it.

His post from Someone watching over me was written on August 27, 2016

Some of you may remember a post from either last year or the year before when I told of a butterfly that visited with Yvonne and I in the middle of a shopping arcade. It was a very surreal experience not just in the fact that the arcade was nowhere near any gardens from which it was likely to have come but also that it chose to sit with us despite it being a busy place. Yvonne insisted it was her mother coming to give comfort at a very low time.

A Wiki commons image.

Today after shopping Mike was anxious to do something different and not waste the weather by coming home. I suggested a trip to the town of Denbigh where we could take a slow walk round the shops and have some lunch. We parked in Vale Street which is where the main shops are and walked towards a restaurant called The Forum that Ju and I used to visit with MuJo. Gone, Kaput, Closed. What a disappointment.

We turned to cross the road as there were other restaurants and cafes there. Mike took two steps to reach road level again and as he did a butterfly came past his leg and settled on the bottom of my left crutch. I was amazed since the crutch was in motion and it doesn’t seem the ideal place to park oneself. I expected the butterfly to launch itself off as we entered the sunshine from the covered arcade we’d been in but it seems the butterfly had other ideas.

Despite me trying to be careful the stick must have jarred each time it hit the ground. After ten minutes it was still hanging on as we entered a cafe which had a notice about pets not being allowed. Mike threatened to report me. It stayed with me all through lunch and during our visit to an antique emporium afterwards. I suggested showing Mike a little wholesale place which frankly Ju hadn’t liked and at that the butterfly took off. It had been with me almost exactly an hour.

I texted Yvonne to tell her and she came back to say it must be her Mum coming to try and lift my spirits. I have to say that the strangeness but joy of the visit did lift my spirit.

Hugs to you all, (he signs off).

My response to this written piece was as follows.

The Butterfly surely comes and visits us as we sit on our porch during the afternoon watching life pass us by on our country road. We are blessed with shade most of the day and two overhead fans to combat the heat. Our Hydrangea lure the butterfly and quite often they visit for a time. Who are you I sometimes ask and fully expect them to sit upon my glass of Chilled Wine and take a sip with us.

The Dragonfly has ridden with me on many occasion as I mow my .4 hectare yard, they will often perch upon the hand when held out. I equate the Dragonfly to a visit from my grandson Andrew who died at age seven. I greet them each time with his name and a smile and enlightenment. I once had a boat named “Dragonfly Angel.” Andrew was enamored with the Dragonfly.

A Wiki commons image.

Being the Inquisitor that I am, I now know of Denbigh up to the north and it’s history back to the 1200’s. Always learning and keeping the wheels turning. From Halifax, NS, (this day) Cheers Sir.

A side note.

As a side addition to that porch time I must tell you, we are able to solve many of the on-going issues in the world. No military has to be dispatched and very little financial burden is put upon the tax paying public. Just a few dollars for a bottle of KJ and the world is our Oyster. Well, not last night, it was a pound of Mussels and Halibut over Salsa at the Five Fishermen.

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Arising in Halifax where we will spend the next two days. Good morning all and thank you for stopping by.

What you do when there’s nothing to do.

August 26, 2016 5:19 am / 3 Comments on What you do when there’s nothing to do.

I got a whole bunch of steps in as the Mrs., the granddaughters and I spent over an hour on the mostly shaded trail on a grand walk. There were old, young, walkers and bikers, a little old lady pushing a baby carriage, and many dog walkers greeted along our adventure through the woods.

The Rooster and the granddaughters pose for the camera.

Granny and the girls under I-84.

Such Talent

Various signs along the way gave the walker the history on how the rail line functioned in years gone by. My family from the 20’s thru the 50’s had a long history with both the Pennsylvania Railroad and the Pennsylvania Seashore Line.

One great Uncle was in-charge of the mail car that ran each night between Scranton and Altoona, PA. Back during WW II another great-uncle was an engineer on a coal train that ran from Camden, to Cape May, NJ. I can remember sitting on a stool in my grandmother’s house and listening to stories from times gone by. One such story told, surrounded the expert marksmanship my uncle dad with a pistol. It seems the railroad armed the crews as they traveled the tracks adjacent to the coast, German submarines you know. As the train would pass farms that were fronted with picket fences close to the tracks, many would have empty milk bottles seated there awaiting the Milkman’s pick-up and delivery. Ready, Aim, *FIRE*, target practice would commence as the train passed. Any missed bottles would remain for the Conductor and Brakeman back in the Caboose to pick off should they be worthy enough to do so. My uncle always had a bit of a twinkle in his eye when he told his stories, especially that one.

Akron Club photo

So my friends there’s a bit of history for you, should the rails of old be of any interest. That walk with my grandchildren today rekindled such great stories I was told as a youngster and it felt good sharing it with you.

Thanks for stopping by as our adventure North continues. Writing early, and writing often, I remain,

Food for Thought

August 24, 2016 9:34 am / 5 Comments on Food for Thought

We are still in CT. Hung with the grand-kids last night while son and wife took eldest son David to Logan on way to Dublin. Nice the parents got some alone time and a meal out. They sent the below pic, looking across the water from Logan to downtown, Boston. You just gotta love sunsets. I do like the rises also, ” Yep, here I am again” I say. Thank you Lord for another day in paradise.

The Boston skyline.

Eastham Bay, Cape Cod, MA, looking west across Cape Cod Bay at sunset. Our son and family were vacationing there last week. There are not a lot of east coast USA sites where the sun can be viewed setting over the water. In Maryland we have Fagers Island in Ocean City that looks across Assawomen Bay. As the sun sets, the “William Tell Overture” plays. It’s one of those, you had to be there moments.

Today we venture out on a hiking path with two granddaughters to get some exercise and outdoor time. Yesterday I did the treadmill, I’ve gotta keep that Cardio Rehab going strong. I certainly don’t want to go backwards.

I was catching up on the back-home news and saw the below article from the Baltimore Sun, I just had to share. It is certainly not something that will be on my menu.

Deep-fried foods at Maryland State Fair, from bacon-wrapped Oreos to bugs

Sarah MeehanContact ReporterThe Baltimore Sun

Deep-fried, bacon-wrapped Oreos will be sold at the state fair this year. Because America.

Brian Shenkman was at the Ohio State Fair when he saw a vendor dishing out deep-fried, bacon-wrapped Oreos. Now, he’s bringing the deep-fried delicacies to Maryland.

“We tried it and we loved it and thought we’d bring it to the East Coast,” he said.

This year marks Shenkman’s 21st as a vendor at the Maryland State Fair, where he dishes out deep-fried foods alongside an array of candy from the Bulk Candy Store tent.

His offerings change from year to year, and the bacon-wrapped Oreos are this year’s newest addition. The Oreo is first fried alone, then wrapped in bacon and fried again for a sweet-and-salty finish.

“It’s like having two scoops of ice cream,” Shenkman said. “It doesn’t get much better.”

Other popular items include deep-fried grilled cheese, deep-fried peanut butter and jelly, deep-fried Buckeyes (made of chocolate and peanut butter) and deep-fried cream cheese — Shenkman’s favorite.

Last year he offered fried cream cheese larvettes — yes, bugs — for the first time, and he’s bringing them back again this year.

“It’s like having a warm bagel with cream cheese and little crunchy things in them, and if you don’t realize what it is you’d never know,” he said.

Everyone asks Shenkman how many calories are in each of his crispy creations, he said. He reassured customers that if they don’t finish the last bite, the calories don’t count.

“We save all the calories there for the last bite,” he said.

Take a look at some of the deep-fried offerings in the gallery above.

Thanks for following the Rooster and the Hen on their trip north. A fellow blogger gave me the inspiration to change my closing words, ” Write early, Write often.”

And Richard Nixon was gone for 18 minutes of missing tape.

How many emails was that?

A drink on the porch

June 21, 2016 5:05 pm / 3 Comments on A drink on the porch

Forward

My wife and I are back in our old stomping grounds of Connecticut where we lived for twenty years and raised three children until 1988 when we moved to the Eastern Shore of Maryland. My wife has spent a good deal of time up here for the past several months using her past nursing skills to care for my sister. As we await her sunset, many gather to remember all the good works of this Nurse of so many years. Many laughs are being exchanged in her presence and she smiles continuously. The door opens and old friends continue to fill the room.

We were quite close when living in Connecticut, as a matter of fact we were next door neighbors for eighteen of those twenty years. Our three and my sister’s two children had two sets of parents and one was always present. A parental eye was always watching and by the grace of God all five kids turned out great.

I was fortunate last week to hitch a ride with a daughter and granddaughter and get to spend some time here also. I’m also playing hooky from Cardio Rehab. My niece is flying in today from Alaska to spend some time with her mother and we shall soon venture back south for a short respite. The grass needs mowing, we will pay some bills, catch up on some appointments and head back north in due time.

The north end of the NJ Turnpike was a cheering and beeping frenzy of Columbia Futball fans traveling to the Meadowland’s Stadium for a soccer game.

While here in the evening, the shade and hanging flower baskets create a gravitational force that lures us to our son and daughter in-law’s front porch.

The Porch

A cold beverage, usually a wine and beer help to relax us from what becomes a stressful day at times. I must also mention the open aviary this porch has become. Entertainment has not been lacking the past week.

Two large hanging baskets adorn the porch each filled with robust red flowers. You would think that Hummingbirds would be common, not the case. Sparrows have built a nest in the north facing basket.

Into this pot the birds fly.

Last night my son took the below photo of the nest and we were surprised when a rogue appeared among those of the sparrow.

The rogue egg sits.

An educational search ensued and this is what we found.

From the Cornell Lab of Orinthology and their Nest Watch site.

Male Brown-headed Cowbird

Photo © Burline Pullin

The Basics

The Brown-headed Cowbird (Molothrus ater) is a brood parasite, meaning that it lays its eggs in nests of other species. A female cowbird quietly searches for female birds of other species that are actively laying eggs. Once she has found a suitable host, the cowbird will sneak onto the resident bird’s nest when it is away, usually damage or remove one (or more) egg, and replace that egg with one (or more) of her own (watch a cowbird laying an egg in a Northern Cardinal nest on NestCams). The foster parents then unknowingly raise the young cowbirds, usually at the expense of their own offspring. Cowbird eggs require a shorter incubation period than most other songbirds and thus usually hatch first. Cowbird nestlings also grow large very quickly. These advantages allow them to command the most food from their foster parents, usually resulting in reduced nesting success of the host species.

Female Brown-headed Cowbird

Photo © Raymond Lee Photography

Brown-headed Cowbirds are native to the United States and prefer open grasslands, as well as agricultural, urban, and suburban habitats where grain or cattle-disturbed soil are readily available. Historically they followed herds of bison, eating insects kicked up by the animals’ hooves. It is unknown whether they developed their breeding strategy because they had to move frequently to keep up with the bison herds, or whether they were able to follow the herds because their breeding strategy gave them the freedom to do so. Expansion of agricultural areas and removal of forest cover have greatly benefited this species by providing more overall habitat and by giving cowbirds access to new host species that have not developed defensive strategies against nest parasitism. While it is clear that cowbirds have benefited from forest fragmentation, their role in population-level declines of many forest birds is less certain.

A Compound Problem

The cowbird does not depend exclusively on a single host species; it has been known to parasitize over 220 different species of North American birds and therefore spreads its impact across many populations. Although cowbirds have been implicated in the population declines of several rare species, such as Kirtland’s Warbler and Black-capped Vireo, habitat loss and fragmentation likely play a much larger role in causing songbird declines. This is evidenced by the fact that cowbird control alone did not increase populations of the endangered Kirtland’s Warbler; only when cowbird control was combined with habitat management for young Jack Pine forests did the warblers rebound.

Because cowbirds are native to the U.S., they are protected under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act and in most instances it is unlawful to use lethal control without a permit, including the removal of their eggs from a nest. However, unpermitted control of cowbirds is occasionally permissible under special circumstances outlined in the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. Additionally, in some states, such as Michigan and Texas, permits can be obtained to trap cowbirds to protect endangered species like Kirtland’s Warbler, Golden-cheeked Warbler, and Black-capped Vireo. Please check with your state’s wildlife management agency for local regulations.

Some species, such as the Yellow Warbler, can recognize cowbird eggs and will reject them or build a new nest on top of them. Those species which accept cowbird eggs either do not notice the new eggs, or as new evidence suggests, accept them as a defense against total nest destruction. Cowbirds may “punish” egg-rejectors by destroying the entire nest, whereas it is possible for egg-acceptors to raise some of their own young in addition to the cowbird young (see Birdscope 2008).

Fledgling Brown-headed Cowbird

This fledgling Brown-headed Cowbird dwarfs the adult Common Yellowthroat acting as dad.

Photo © Darin Ziegler

To deter Brown-headed Cowbirds:

Use feeders that are made for smaller birds, such as tube feeders that have short perches, smaller ports, and no catch basin on the bottom. Avoid platform trays, and do not spread food on the ground.
Cowbirds prefer sunflower seeds, cracked corn, and millet; offer nyjer seeds, suet, nectar, whole peanuts, or safflower seeds instead.
Clean up seed spills on the ground below feeders.
Don’t search for or visit a nest when cowbirds are around.

Parasitized Nest

This cowbird egg (top, left) was laid in an Eastern Bluebird’s nest, inside a nest box.

Photo © mcporet_usn

Nestling Brown-headed Cowbird

Note the cowbird (being fed) has a very red gape and has opened its eyes, setting it apart from the Wood Thrush nestlings with whom it shares this nest.

Photo © Kelly Colgan Azar

Odd One Out

How do you know if you have cowbird parasitism to report in your NestWatch data?

First, look for any eggs that appear different or out of place. Cowbird eggs are sometimes, but not always, larger than those of the host bird. This is especially true of warblers and small birds, but cowbird eggs are the same size as Northern Cardinal eggs.
Cowbird eggs are white to grayish-white with brown or gray spots or streaks. Many species’ eggs resemble cowbird eggs, so you may not be able to tell if the nest is parasitized until after the eggs hatch.
Look for intact eggs on the ground under active nests. Female cowbirds often evict one or more of the host eggs before they lay their own. However, she may eat the egg instead or damage it and leave it in the nest.
When nestlings are present, look for a slightly larger nestling that begs vigorously with a bright red “gape” (the brightly colored areas in the corners of a nestling’s open mouth). Most songbird chicks have a yellow or pale gape.
Cowbird young develop in about 8-13 days, so they may fledge before you expect the host species to have fledged. If you accidentally “force fledge” a cowbird, the parents will continue to feed it on the ground. Putting it back in the nest will probably result in the cowbird jumping out again. The parents usually will also continue to feed the young that remain in the nest until they are old enough to leave.
Fledgling cowbirds are a dull grayish-brown color, and will be nearly their adult size (about the size of a starling), which often means parents will be feeding a youngster larger than themselves.

Once again the Rooster thanks you for stopping by.

Semper-fidelis

3 9 3

May 24, 2016 2:27 pm / Leave a comment

Forward

Because we have had three wonderful children, nine grandchildren and so far three great – grandchildren, thus the 3-9-3. That third number will change as the family does grow. At the end of Alex Blackwell’s posts there are always share prompts. If you follow the Roster’s blog regularly you’ll know I share and forward. Alex Blackwell has once again said it well and I shall not clutter things up.

I have left Ireland, the sun shines on the Eastern Shore of MD, and this is my blogging venue for today. We are back in Summer time mode. Could my friend Robert Lambert Jones III have been whispering in the ear of Helios?

Other than to say, God bless my 3-9-3, their mothers and fathers and thank you to all who help them grow. Enjoy the read and thanks for stopping by the Chicken Coop.

Semper-fidelis

Step with care and great tact, and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. – Dr. Seuss

From the hand of Alex Blackwell, The Bridgemaker.

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Mary Beth turns 50 next weekend and we’re heading to Atlanta to celebrate.

When considering what my wife wanted to do for her milestone birthday, there was no hesitation: Let’s visit Brandon, Ashley, Blair and Baylor.

Being a Papa

It’s been five months since we’ve last seen our oldest son, his wife and our two beautiful granddaughters. We were there when Baylor was born. Since then we have had to settle on watching our granddaughters grow and change on Facebook and Facetime.

But in less than a week we get to hold them – play with them – kiss them, and love them.

Along with excitement of going to Atlanta, is the awareness that I’m still learning how to be a good grandfather. My role as a father will never end, so I’m discovering how I can continue to be accessible as a parent while having plenty left over for my grandchildren – now and in the future.

But being a Papa is easier than expected because my son and daughter-in-law are great parents. And since I’m not responsible for the girls’ day-to-day needs, I think being a good grandfather means I can spend my time offering them love and the little bits of wisdom I’ve managed to collect over the years.

So, as I prepare for next week’s visit, and many more visits to come over the years, here’s the wisdom I plan to share with my granddaughters:

Your source of strength is limitless because you were born with a purpose only you can fulfill. There’s no one in the world – past, present or future, who possesses the same gifts as you. Place your trust in these gifts and when the opportunity to use them is obvious, use them with passion and confidence.
Trust your parents. They might not always understand what you are saying or doing, but they will always understand that you deserve their love. By giving their unconditional love to you creates a bond so strong that when you make a mistake, or feel lost, you can rely on your parent’s love to soften the blow. Trust them. Even when you can’t see them, know their arms will be stretched out, waiting.
Never stop playing. Jump, dance, and skip every chance you get. Color, draw or sketch when you are in the mood. Recharge your spirit by doing what you enjoy. Sometimes when problems seem that they are about to swallow you up, it can be hard to remember to have fun, too. So, find time to let go and play.
You are beautiful. No matter what people may say or how you might feel, you are beautiful. You don’t need to be perfect to be beautiful, you just need to listen to your heart. When you listen, I mean really listen by tuning out the other noise around you, you will hear your heart cheering for you because it’s a vessel God uses to pour out His love. Let that wonderful stream cover you. When you do, it will leave you feeling worthy, valuable and simply beautiful.
A valuable life isn’t always found in what you do or what you have; a valuable life begins with understanding that the point of being alive is to love as much as you can along the way. A valuable life is about giving love to yourself when you need it and giving love to others when it’s requested. A valuable life is about sharing your heart when you are ready. A valuable life is measured by the times you trade your mistakes for grace; bitterness for forgiveness and hate for love.

Written on the Heart

There will be plenty to celebrate and cherish next weekend. Though our time there will be short, no doubt it will be filled with plenty of laughter, good food and lots of love.

One more thing I’ve learned is there’s something beautiful, even magical about the sight of a new family growing together. The sweet anticipation of the present moment, and the moments yet to come, create an energy so full of hope that its power, if bottled, can overcome any difficulty.

I can’t wait to add more to what’s going into the bottle so it can be dispensed when needed.

Alex BlackwellThe BridgeMaker Founder Alex Blackwell is the author of Letting Go: 25 True Stories of Peace, Hope and Surrender. Join the community to connect, share and inspire: Twitter | Facebook | More Posts

Thank you once again Alex.

Grow a Pair: The Lost Art of Pushing Yourself and Overcoming Your Shark

May 17, 2016 10:03 am / 2 Comments on Grow a Pair: The Lost Art of Pushing Yourself and Overcoming Your Shark

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by Jordan Jones May 16, 2016

Forward by the Rooster

Once again I share with you a most recent post from ITS Tactical. Most of us have a fear of something, mine at the moment is Bacon and what it could do to my newly By-Passed arteries. I’ve kind of passed those physically challenging encounters that you youngsters out there, meet head on in today’s world. Are there demons out there you could push yourself to conquer? Do you know what they are, would you take the plunge?

Jordan Jones is the newest member of the ITS Crew, Jordan Jones is a Contributor on ITS. During his time in the Marine Corps, Jordan deployed overseas for 3 years and has experience as a member of FAST, PSD and FMTU teams. These days, he spends his time roaming around the ITS warehouse, packing and shipping customer orders. Jordan enjoys working out, shooting, bushcraft and Kali. He likes staying active and visiting with friends, family and his lovely lady.

If the title of the post rubs you the wrong way in this new politically correct world, get over it!

Grow a Pair

Cowboying up, opening a can of man, you get the idea. Call it what you will, but there’s a lesson to be learned in enduring the uncomfortable and pushing past your perceived barriers. A few weeks ago, I found myself as the last man standing in a beginner’s Scuba Diving class. It made me think that pushing yourself past your limits is fast becoming a lost art.

A Totally Natural Fear of Sharks

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First a little backstory. I, like many people with common sense and an innate need to stay alive, am afraid of sharks. From their cold lifeless eyes, to their evil tooth-filled grin, they give the impression that they’re happy to be a soulless killing machine. To put it plainly, they give me a solid case of the “heeby jeebies.” Most of us have a “shark” in our lives, but the important thing is not to run away and instead, learn to overcome these obstacles and push past them.

This brought me into the realm of Scuba Diving. Being in the modern Marine Corps, I didn’t see a lot of water; quite the opposite in fact. So the idea of staying underwater longer that it takes to egress (while holding my lucky horseshoe and thinking of petting kittens and rainbows) out of a downed helicopter was a new experience for me.

When considering the idea of learning to dive, I devoured any information I could on the matter. In addition, I spent time in the pool familiarizing myself with challenges I could face in such an environment. Before my first day of Scuba class, I learned to clear my mask underwater, how to swim with fins and also how to conserve energy/oxygen. I wanted to prepare for the class before actually attending.

The SCUBA Class

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My class started a few weeks ago with myself and six other adult men, in a local Scuba training center. As of now, I’m the last one in the class. Not because I’m some genetically-engineered frogman, but more because of my innate feeling to push past fears and mental blocks that we all need to drive us. It doesn’t matter whether it results in failure or success, it’s the effort that counts. If you want to succeed in something, you have to grow a pair and do it. If you never push yourself, you’ll never progress as a person.

The first three students washed out in the classroom before we’d even hit the water. They couldn’t be bothered to watch some videos at home in their free time. Our fourth member quit because he couldn’t get underwater without completely losing his mind. The final two would find themselves overcome by the deep, dark depths of 14 feet. After “surviving the hell of the depths,” aka sitting at the bottom of the pool practicing buddy breathing, the fifth student didn’t show up to the next class. It was now myself and one other student left.

At the next class, myself and the last remaining student arrived at the pool and huddled around our very patient instructor. We had to wait for a group of 6 year old girls practicing synchronized swimming to finish. After an intense round of instruction at the hands of their assumed Girl Scout leader, we gathered our gear and hit the water.

As we began our decent into the murky abyss of the community pool, we hit a snag. The other student was wearing a recently purchased wetsuit which wasn’t weighted down properly to make the descent. He’d attained the much sought after “neutral buoyancy” at a depth of 1 foot below the surface and was waving his arms and legs in an impressive display of interpretive dance.

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Our instructor casually rose to the surface and proceeded to add ten pounds or so (none of this metric crap) to the BC of the student (which I later learned was because of the wet suit and the panicked breaths the student was taking) and sank him to the bottom. After practicing finding and clearing our regulators, we moved onto mask clearings.

We filled the masks partially and I, in my awesome thought process, decided to lift my mask and allow water in from the bottom. This allowed water to shoot straight up my nose causing some less than fortunate side effects. After pinching my nose and swallowing the super-hydrating pool water, I cleared my mask and gave the okay sign to our instructor.

The focus was then shifted to my final companion, student number six. To his credit, he lifted from the top of his mask and allowed water to partially fill it. At that point, his eyes grew large and he motioned to the surface in a manner that likened him to Bill Paxton’s character in Aliens. “Game Over, Man. Game Over!” He then performed what I later learned from Bryan to be known as the undesirable “Pegasus Missile” maneuver, after hearing a story he told about a BUD/s instructor’s safety brief at the pool.

This maneuver involves over inflating your BC from depth in an emergency and shooting to the surface with dangerous speed before breaching like a blue whale, before plopping back onto the surface and bobbing in the water. After executing this maneuver, the student simply got out, packed his things and quickly departed before anyone could even make sure he was all right.

I started this hobby because I wanted to face my fear and swim with sharks. You just have to put in the effort. Whatever your “shark” is, don’t let those evil, cold-eyed sons of bitches get you to fail. Too many people these days hit a wall and decide that it’s too much and they can’t take it. Work past your fears, grow a pair and keep going.

Thanks to Jordan Jones, a fellow Marine, for his writing skill and his service to this wonderful country of ours. Thank you once again to Bryan Black for allowing me to share this with you. Check out ITS Tactical,

Click here to learn about all the benefits and Join!

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The Rooster thanks you once again for coming by to take a look-see. Have a great day.

Semper Fi

The Power of a Kiss

May 12, 2016 2:44 pm / 1 Comment on The Power of a Kiss

swift-attack.blogspot.com

Forward

Yesterday I said good-by to my wife with a kiss. She is heading north for a few weeks to spend some time with my Sister and Brother- in-law. My Sister is in the hospital at the moment and once home, my lady felt she could use a bit of a hand around the house. I’m incorporating the “My Lady,” due to my wife’s being enamored with Downton Abbey.

It seems the staff in that production call all the women “My Lady.” Here, south of the Mason Dixon line all women are referred to as “Miss” something or other. Miss Sue, Miss Aggie, Miss Ewe and so forth. Were we in Baltimore the term “Hon” is used between the sexes, especially in a restaurant when being served. “What’s you gonna order, Hon,” the waitress will say. “A dozen crabs” says I.

Today being Throwback Thursday, Alex Blackwell re-posted a blog from 2015 and it caught my eye and got me thinking of that departing kiss. I now look with anticipation to her return and giving her a welcome home kiss. Enjoy the post from Alex and please, enjoy your next kiss.

The Power of a Kiss

By Alex Blackwell on Feb 22, 2015

The-Kiss

Kissing is like drinking salted water. You drink, and your thirst increases. – Chinese Proverb

The Kiss (above) was painted by Austrian painter Gustav Klimt in 1909. A print of Klimt’s masterpiece hangs in my house. It serves as a mirror by reflecting the urgency, passion and sweetness a kiss can have.

Even though I’m familiar with the painting, I’m no art expert. My tastes run from Thomas Kincaid’s Christmas Miracle to Van Gogh’s Starry Night. I like what I like. And like most people, certain art has the ability to grab my attention and speak to me.

So, when I catch a glimpse of The Kiss, my soul is reminded of how powerful a kiss can be.

Sensual (sometimes) and Heartfelt (always)

Gazing at the entangled couple symbolizes the power a kiss can have. In that moment, kissing and being kissed is the only thing that matters. At least, this is what the painting says to me.

The painting also whispers that a kiss can be amazing – magnificent – life changing. But unlike the man and woman depicted on Klimt’s canvas, the art tells me that not all kisses have to be sensual to be powerful – they just have to be heartfelt.

Consider the times you have been kissed or have kissed. Consider the power of each kiss. Kisses like…

– The kiss you get when you have been missed.
– The kiss you give when someone has done something amazing.

– The kiss you get when you’ve been kind.
– The kiss you give to show your thankfulness.

– The kiss that says, “Everything will be alright.”
– The kiss you give for no reason at all.

– The kiss that pronounces you are a great mom or dad.
– The kiss that reminds your daughter she is a gift.
– The kiss that reminds your son he is never alone.

– The kiss that lets you know that you’re being craved.
– The kiss that tells your partner desire is still there.

– The kiss that reveals your soul
– The kiss that lets you see someone else’s soul.

– The kiss that puts a stamp on love
– The kiss that puts two faces together so the beautiful imperfections can be loved deeper.

– The kiss that is stolen and then returned by the willing accomplice
– The kiss that feels like happiness

Creating Your Masterpiece

Who will you kiss today with heartfelt intention? Who will know how much they are loved by the power of your kiss?

– With the power of a kiss I will show Mary Beth that I am hers to hold forever.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Brandon how proud I am of the man he has become.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Caitlin how happy I am for her.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Andrew how pleased I am with the passion he has chosen.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Emily that she is simply amazing.

My family is my masterpiece. And like the brush strokes on a canvas, I will paint them with love, and the power of a kiss, every chance I get.

Alex Blackwell The BridgeMaker Founder Alex Blackwell is the author of Letting Go: 25 True Stories of Peace, Hope and Surrender. Join the community to connect, share and inspire: Twitter | Facebook | More Posts

Once again, thanks for stopping by, chew a mint, seize the moment, enjoy and savor your next kiss.

Semper Fi

Turtle Crossing

May 2, 2016 7:10 am / 1 Comment on Turtle Crossing

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Bear Tales photo.

Since I’m on a road trip, actually today is our last day, I’m using the thoughts and life’s experiences of my amazing granddaughter in Oklahoma to fill a few lines of my blog today.

Sam doesn’t get to post a lot, wife, mother of three under four, full-time U.S.A.F. Officer and Youth Religion teacher in her church seems to keep her busy.

If you’re ever for lack of something to read, give Sam a look-see at her blog: https://adayinmylife.org/

New post on A Day in my life
Save a Turtle
by c12samb
I’ve been thinking about the content of this post a lot the past few weeks and my brain has finally connected it all together.

2014may23turtlephoto

Z is currently out-of-town and I miss his help most in the mornings. Between taking a shower, nursing D, feeding the girls, dressing everyone, feeding myself, loading everyone and everything and getting out the door on time…it’s a struggle every morning. This past week was no exception. As I pulled out of the development I realized I had not closed the garage door. I pull into the nearest driveway and turn around. As I turn back into our development I notice a turtle. Did I stop and help him to cross the road? Of course not! I was running late. As I approach the house, of course, the garage door is down; I had closed it.

I loop back through the development and upon reaching the development entrance, a SUV is stopped and a woman is helping the turtle to cross the road. This is when the post came together for me.

We all have done this. We’ve either helped or been too busy to help. What we fail to realize when we choose not to help is that the turtle does not know he needs our help. This is true for people in life. There are so many times that we stay in our bubble; too busy to help, too busy to ask how someone is doing, too busy to pick up the phone.

We need to stop being too busy and too consumed with things that don’t matter. I was already running behind. How long would it have taken me to stop, move the turtle and continue on my way? 30-90 seconds? How long does it take to walk around the office and say “Hey, how was your weekend”.

Below is a great TED talk that fits with this perfectly. My commander showed it to my squadron during a Commander’s Call and I love it.

TED talk on how to make stress your friend

People don’t know they need help until help is offered. These past few weeks I have received help I didn’t know I needed. I realized I didn’t have it as “together” as I thought I did. We all need to be taken care of and we all need to take care of.

Thanks Sam, and thanks to my readers for coming by.

Where was this road-trip you took Rooster? The wife and I ventured north to our former home of Connecticut and spent a few nights getting free room and board at our son’s in Tolland, CT. We got to visit my sister who’s been a bit under the weather of late. We went to my Brother’s Tag-Sale. I picked up a S & W knife, a Giraffe Bank, needs some TLC, and an oil camping lamp. All items to be given away. Remember my post “Elder Abuse.”

We attended a Sheep , Wool and Fiber Fest at the Tolland, CT TAC grounds. Our two Connecticut granddaughters have had adopted Alpacas in the past. We saw granddaughter Jill play in a HS softball game, Tolland vs. E.O. Smith. Had food from our favorite past Eatery, Vernon Pizza and caught up with what we’ve missed since our last visit in December.

The trip up was something new, as the trip back is also. I’ll make that a blog for another day. Talk to you all again soon.

Semper-fidelis

A Share from my Great Nephew

April 20, 2016 2:06 pm / 1 Comment on A Share from my Great Nephew

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So I have this Great Nephew, Marshall Palmer, who is related through marriage. Marshall is a walker for cancer. He lost his dad to this scourge of our Earth five years ago. At the same time I lost a friend of twenty three years. Chris Palmer was Marshall’s dad and my friend.

Relay for Life has been a fundraising venue on the Eastern Shore for years. Chris Palmer with his and extended family marched for many years to help raise funds for Cancer research. Today Marshall continues that history through new efforts from afar. Marshall now lives in suburban Chicago with an even bigger extended family. A new step-father, siblings and all the extensions associated with them.

So my thought is this. I have close to 300 friends on Facebook, a bunch on Twitter and God knows how many visitors to The Rooster Blog. Perhaps we could get a donation or two out of some of you. If everyone gave a BUCK to Teamraiserworkshop, how cool would that be?

We are all touched in some way, family, friends, associates and neighbors who have or had cancer. If you can help Marshall out with a donation, please go to the site below.

The Rooster thanks you.

635798327810892895-SBYBrd-09-21-2014-DailyTimes-1-A017--2014-09-20-IMG-20140919-183308.jpg-1-1-278JLO2E-L487982581-IMG-20140919-183308.jpg-1-1-278JLO2E

The Reason I Walk by Marshall Palmer

Marshall and his dad.

It’s been almost 5 year since my Dad died. Sometimes it seems like so long ago, and sometimes it feels like it was last month. It’s weird. For those of you who don’t know me and know my story, cancer took my dad from me. Throughout his life, my dad battled three kinds of cancer, non-hodgkins lymphoma, micro-eperdermoid carcinoma (cancer of the salivary gland), and finally melanoma. During his final battle with cancer, my dad spent his years in clinical trials before his melanoma became too serious that nothing could slow it down anymore. Although he is not with us anymore there are parts of my dad that he has left behind to create his Legacy of Fighters. Throughout my entire life we have always been fundraising to find a cure for cancer. Whether it was participating in Relay for Life, our annual Valentines fundraiser Romance for a Cure, or our Cancer Makes me Crabby fundraiser, we were determined to beat the beast, and still are to this day.

While we were doing our part to find a cure, my dad was doing his own. Not only did he participate in fundraising, over the years, my dad spent his life trying to help doctors find a cure for cancer. When his Melanoma had spread to his lungs and in all other organs, he participated in a clinical trial. After a month, he came out of that trial with no more melanoma in his lungs, they had found a cure. Although it did not cure the rest of his melanoma, that trial had found a cure for Lung Cancer patients such as Football Coach Jeff Renihan of Graceville, Florida. One day my mom got a letter saying that this man had been fighting lung cancer and when he heard of the trial my dad was in, he knew he needed to be a part of it. After a lot of pushing and begging they got him in the trial and after that day, Coach Renihan was cancer free.

I have realized that the superheroes in the movies that stop a meteor from crashing into the earth or the ones that stop an alien invasion aren’t the ones that truly matter – its the ones that give their lives to finding a cure and helping those who are battling cancer. Although my dad is not here anymore, his legacy lives on and we will not stop until cancer is no more! This year to give back, I am fundraising for the Wellness House, along with my new siblings, to help those battling cancer. Their mom, MJ, who also battled cancer, was not only a participant at the Wellness House but also a strong supporter. The Wellness House gives support to those battling cancer, along with their families. As I walk in memory of my Dad this year, please join me in making the lives of survivors better, and continuing to search for cures. Cancer just can’t win this battle. As my family always said Beat the Beast, it’s who we are, it’s what we do.

WalkWeb

http://events.wellnesshouse.org/site/TR/Events/TeamRaiserWorkshop?px=1005145&pg=personal&fr_id=1040

Bubbles and bows:

April 11, 2016 1:43 pm / Leave a comment

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I just wanted to share my good friend’s blog with everyone. You have some history behind you my friend. Thanks for sharing George.

poor georgie’s almanack

As a young show business press agent in Chicago around 1960 I promoted an interesting “B List” of world-renowned performers visiting The Windy City. Bernstein, Belafonte and a bunch of others.

Last night’s powerful performance at Strathmore Music Center of “Porgy and Bess” brought back memories of John W. Bubbles. He was Sportin’ Life in the original Broadway production of the Gershwin classic opera.

Bubbles had appeared in Chicago on a bill with Judy Garland and the comic Alan King. I was hired late in the game, after it already was clear the show’s run would be standing-room-only.

Irv Kupcinet, the leading local gossip columnist, invited me to a private dinner at the Chez Paree nightclub, a couple days before the show opened. About ten of us sat around a table and listened to a clearly disturbed Garland swearing up a storm. That was a bit uncomfortable, but even more unsettling were the futile attempts by her husband, Sidney Luft, to calm her down. I didn’t want to get involved in that. But, I needed someone to promote, because I was being paid to do press agentry.

King was equally obnoxious. He didn’t need me and I not only didn’t need him, I didn’t want to be around him. He seemed to be mean and disdainful of everyone but himself.

Bubbles, meanwhile, came across as quiet, introspective and a genuinely warm human being. I only knew about him as a famous vaudeville performer where he partnered with a fellow who’s nickname was “Buck.” Their act was “Buck and Bubbles.” The name had intrigued me as much as another star team on the Negro Vaudeville Circuit, “Butterbeans and Susie.”

I arranged for Studs Terkel to interview Bubbles in a small WFMT radio studio. Terkel, probably the best interviewer ever, didn’t dwell on the obvious, like how Bubbles had taught Fred Astaire to tap dance.

Terkel zeroed in on Bubbles’ climb to stardom in Jim Crow America. Jim Crow was a popular 19th-century minstrel song and dance that negatively stereotyped African Americans It was performed by White men in blackface makeup. The mythical Jim Crow morphed into shorthand for a system of government-sanctioned wide-spread racial oppression and segregation, which fully captured Bubbles wildly successful career. Yet, successful as his career was, during most of it, he couldn’t walk into millions of front or side doors,or stay at most hotels, because of his skin color.

Studs delicately brought out the pain, suffering, and sorrow of Bubbles’ journey to greatness. Several poignant sounds of silence spoke volumes, as the three of us around the table and the sound engineer in a cramped “booth” behind a large glass window, gathered our thoughts and quietly reflected upon the discomfort pent up in Bubbles’ story. It was a story of simultaneously living the American dream and the American nightmare.

The temperature in the room began to heat up.

And suddenly I noticed. The four of us. Suspended in a tiny time capsule. In a soundproofed safe high above the hustle and bustle of “The Second City.” And each of us with tears in our eyes.

All of this flashed before me last night. A night with little if any silence and a totally different experience. Not at all like Studs’ studio. Not even like sitting near the orchestra pit during the early 1950’s revival of Porgy, where I was a teenaged usher in Chicago’s cavernous, classic, Civic Opera House.

As the lights dimmed, in the sleek and nearly perfectly-tuned modern Strathmore Music Hall, just 15 minutes from our apartment door, Susan and I focused on the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra’s pleasing full, fluid sound. It was a sharp contrast to what I remembered as an equally pleasing, but brassy, Broadway-born Porgy pit orchestra.

But, the voices. Oh, those voices. Behind the orchestra in the loft, were the 60-or-so members of the highly acclaimed choir from Morgan State University a historically black college. In front, performing in an imaginary Catfish Row, were the lead performers. Some professional opera singers, some students. They deservedly took their standing ovation bows. And I thought.

Oh those voices. Oh, those emotions. Oh, those memories.

Semper-fidelis

Category Archives: Sharing

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Male Brown-headed Cowbird

The Basics

Female Brown-headed Cowbird

A Compound Problem

Fledgling Brown-headed Cowbird

Parasitized Nest

Nestling Brown-headed Cowbird

Odd One Out

Step with care and great tact, and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. – Dr. Seuss

Being a Papa

Written on the Heart

Forward by the Rooster

Grow a Pair

A Totally Natural Fear of Sharks

The SCUBA Class

Semper Fi

Sensual (sometimes) and Heartfelt (always)

Creating Your Masterpiece

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The Reason I Walk by Marshall Palmer

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