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Then & Now

Then & Now 2008 / 2025 

For the lack of no reason what so ever, I thought I’d do a then and now thingy. So out there in readership land, here Goes it.

The below type is from my very first Blog back in February 2008

2008.   Blog, kind of sounds like a cold, or a zit or some kind of an affliction. My first day with a blog, now what do I do with it?  

This type represents The August 2025 Blog

2025.   Pass me a Kleenx, it’s sinus issues from living here on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.  Now in my later years of life there are most likely less vendible things to draw in the average reader. I did see this promo on something I was reading earlier this morning. That was at 0442 by the way.

List 30 things that make you happy. Must do this one day!

Well to start off I’ll let the world know how I start my day on the Internet.

My start up page is http//refdesk.com 

Having spent twenty years in Connecticut I next go to http://www.courant.com/ to check on the local news and how the UCONN Huskies are doing in any given season. I’m a forty year Huskie fan. http://www.uconnhuskies.com/

Next up, but sometimes #1 is the weather. While in the Marine Corps, way back when, I was in Weather as an occupation with Rawinsonde as a sub specialty. http://usmilitary.about.com/library/milinfo/marineenjobs/bl68.htm

Still a Huskie fan, but. of 57 years now. I still check and love weather, hey no Hurricanes yet, what’s with that? I’m big into Salisbury State Lacrosse these days. Must await winter to watch Ice Hockey on grass.

I use a verity of weather related sites www.nws.noaa.gov/ #1, my other favorites are www.accuweather.com and www.weatherunderground.com

During the Hurricane season I live by the National Hurricane Center. www.nhc.noaa.gov/ 

Nothing changed here in 2025.

I have friends and family in CT, FL, CA, and affections to Key West, FL, Pagosa Springs, CO, Flagstaff, AZ and Ireland and Germany. So, I usually check on the weather in those places.

Next it’s off to the Washington Post and Washington Times to get two diametric views on the news. www.washingtonpost.com.     No changes here. 

http://www.washingtontimes.com 

After the two DC papers I go to Google News, which I have preference settings in and glance over that. Next is onto my mail servers.  No Google News, Just E-mail.

From then on I usually have a Memo Pad with notes on things to look up and it’s off I go. This all starts shortly after I get up, usually around 0500. Once downstairs it’s a hot cup of tea to start the day. 

Here, I’ve given the world the start of my day for the start of a BLOG. I shall end this bantering with saying Cead Mile Failte

I’m guessing I could get a few of those thirty (30) things checked off from the above. Oh, one thing, I’ve gone from a Black cup of Joe or tea to a cup of Joe with Heavy Cream.

And listen folks, don’t forget to check on the elderly.

You don’t live here anymore

A Story That Triggered Life Changes by the Rooster.
Circa 1983 while a student at New Hampshire College.
(Present day Southern New Hampshire University)

Homeless


I have lived in a 50/50 relationship with my wife for fifty-nine years, there is little we don’t share. When reading over this assignment, my wife was the one who provided the electricity for the lightbulb. “Remember when you came back from Connecticut one year and your family had moved and no one told you?” Wow, did she clear out some cobwebs and get the memory going.

I was sixteen years old, it was 1959, and I had just spent my yearly summer in Connecticut with my father and his family. Since age ten I would be put on a bus or train during long holidays from school. I would spend Christmas Day in New Jersey and be gone the next morning and not return until school started again. This would happen during the spring and Easter vacations as well.

I would spend the summer of 1959 working in Shade Tobacco fields. Tobacco Valley in New England ran adjacent to the Connecticut River from Portland, CT up to Brattleboro, VT. Many kids over the age of fourteen earned money for school clothes then by working the Tobacco fields. That was one long hot summer that I can still vividly remember.

The school year before that summer, we had spent living with my maternal grandmother. We had returned to the old hometown from a short stint in Wildwood, NJ. My mother and grandmother were not two people who should have tried living together. My stepfather and two half-sisters also resided there. It was chaos the entire year, I was ten years older than the half-sisters. I was relegated to living in an unheated attic which I didn’t like and did not have a great relationship with my stepfather.

Apparently, there was some kind of Brew Ha-Ha amongst Granny, her daughter, and the stepfather during that summer. I would never learn the particulars of what went on and only knew that it was not pretty. Some time mid-summer my mother and family bought a home thirty miles away. I was not told of this, and when summer ended, and school was about to start I returned from Connecticut to my grandmother’s house. My mother and her mother would remain estranged for many years. I thought I would quickly be welcomed back by my grandmother. She played a significant part in my life growing up to that point.

On that day I returned, I would knock on the door and be greeted with hostility by my grandmother. I was not invited in, I was told the (others) had moved, and she had no idea where, and much less, did not care. Go stay with your Aunt and Uncle I was told. Dragging my suitcase, I walked the half mile to my favorite aunt’s. This aunt was my father’s sister-in-law, and I was welcomed with open arms. I was told my Uncle would find out where my mother moved to the next day.

My Uncle and my stepfather’s father were members of the Masonic Lodge together. Through that relationship, my Uncle contacted him and got the address of their new residence. Two days later my Uncle would take me to their home. There was no warm and fuzzy reunification. Something on the order of “Oh, you’re back” was my greeting. During my last three years of school, I never felt like part of the whole family from that point on. My mother always had night jobs, usually three to eleven. I avoided the stepfather whenever I could.

I would work at several jobs, never not employed, attend high school, play football, run track, and return to CT for those holidays and summers just as before. I had gained my independence, I had a new vision, a new outlook, and I could only wonder where it would take me. I just wanted out. My idea was the United States Marine Corps, and it would take me to Parris Island, SC during the summer of sixty-two, just two weeks after high school graduation. Now I can only look with anticipation at where this class will take for me sixty-six years later.

I should have mentioned the Sand Fleas of Parris Island. I will save them for future writing. One Sand Flea could generate an entire story, should that creature be swatted by a recruit at Parris Island.

Thanks for taking the time to read this and following the Rooster.

The Mail Box

This mail Box has graced our Christmas Trees since 1990. That was the year we first started putting money in it. When the kids would arrive from wherever they would run to the tree and search for the mail box. It was continually being moved about the tree and we had some big trees back then. The largest you ask, how does 15 feet sound.

Well the years have passed, we are now up to 9-12 grands, depending how you count, and just last week learned that great # 9 has begun cooking in that magical oven.

We are kind of spread out, The kids and grands are more or less off doing their thing and we just don’t get the visitations quite so often. The tree is up, the mailbox hangs and the daily looks to see if the elves have put a dollar bill or two in have gone the way of the Olds, Pontiac and DeSota.

Thanks Pinterest

Soooooooo, Grannie, that would be Mary Agnes, my wife of 59 years came up with a computer, Message, however game. She came up with the generalities and I put it to paper with the written word. So here my fellow readers is:

The Mail Box

        $$$$$$

Yesterday the Elder Fiddlers put the Christmas Tree up in our living room.

You are all so busy with your lives we don’t have you dropping in and out like years past. We do miss you all when we don’t get to see you. Oh, and the mailbox contents just grows and grows.

SO, children, Grands & Greats here is what Grannie (mostly) and I came up with. We shall put a dollar amount in the mailbox each day (Time to be pre-determined) and that time will be written in Santa’s ledger.

By way of Messaging, each of you will have the opportunity to guess the time that the $ amount is placed in the mailbox.

Official time of cash delivery is: 0900 – 1600 hours. Each day you will get to guess the arrival time. Obviously should you guess a time prior to postal delivery, there is no cash in the box and your guess is thus eliminated.

The winner each day will be that entry that comes closest to the time of delivery once the $ is deposited. Postal delivery will occur between 0900 & 1600 hrs daily, seven (7) days a week.

IE: Money placed in box at 1523 hrs. Kevin Fiddler guessed 1602 hrs. Tommy Palmer guessed 1607 hrs. Kevin Wins!!! Sam guessed 1521 hrs, no delivery yet, does not come closest.

One guess each day per person. Email /Message preferred must be dated on the day you are guessing the delivery is made.

All tabulations by the Rooster and Wife are official.

We look forward to hearing from you often. This contest begins tomorrow, Tuesday, December 10, 2024 and ends Christmas Eve December 24, 2024. One final drawing on Christmas Day will be what time will Santa come down the chimney? Between 0001 and 0400. This is a nice amount of green backs $$$. All winnings shall be distributed after 12-24-2024.

The times and amount each day has already been determined. The total amount in the pool of money is $250.00.

Lets have some fun, Merry Christmas all.

         Love, Pop & Grannie
Don’t forget to check on the elderly!

As the year ends.

Have A Happy New Years Eve Pictures, Photos, and Images for Facebook ...

There are no clouds as I write this post. I can only wonder what our eyes will see, on this, the last sunset in 2023.

It was just 31 hours until the end of the year, and outside daughter Kathryn’s window, a glowing sunset did appear. Far off to the west across the Chesapeake Bay, the mighty sun was giving us its very best.
The wind in the air distributes the dust, which, combined with the clouds, gives a colorful thrust. It even reflects far below, to the creek, as its waters flow. It ends far off to the west, after giving us its very best.

Thank you, Lord, for all we see, majestic stuff created by thee.

Happy New Year, one and all.

Don’t forget to check on the elderly!

12 December, 2023

Merry Christmas from the Rooster & Wife

 Sending you peace, love, and joy this holiday season.

Wake-up Choices

So, what gets you going first thing in the morning? Of late the first thing is our young next-door neighbor. As it is with most young men who own a P/U truck these days, seems the exhaust has to make a deep throaty growling sound. Kind of like when my great granddaughter is visiting and I go Grrrr’rr, I’m gonna get you, and she scurries away and the chase is on. Not sure what these guys are chasing, chics I hope.

Now the growl of a big Ford, Chevy, or Ram is really not what I’m referring to here. I was more or less going to speak to liquid intake. For some, it’s tomato or orange juice juice. For the HIP I’ve seen so many concoctions, that it blows my mind. One in particular I would most likely never do is a GREEN something. For some reason, I just can’t get into drinking green. I include for your reading ingestion the following https://insanelygoodrecipes.com/breakfast-drinks/

Now for me and mine of late, we’ve been trying cinnamon-infused pods from Starbucks and Dunkin. I’m the Barista here and it just works for me. It is so simple for the two of us. We’ve farmed off gatherings to our daughters Kathryn & Sarah who live close by. So Matthew, our son in Connecticut escapes hosting the Mid-Atlantic gatherings. But then again, he married into a giant family on his wife’s side and the family has some big gatherings to accommodate up north.

My Barista Station

I’m wandering here. Back to the cinnamon, we both like it. I’m fond of Starbucks, they call it Cinnamon Dolce, Mary Agnes likes the Dunkin Cinnamania. I must mention I’m sweet on caramel, the little lady makes it for me and I’ve been known to add a 1/2 Tsp. to my Cinnamon Coffee. For a bit of Regularity, you might want to try a Chicory Coffee and pretend you are down New Orleans way at the Cafe Du Monde’. So COFFEE, it’s what gets us going here and around the world. And Pods, well a lot has been said about them. Whatever side of the bed you get out of in the morning, start your day, your way!

And the leaves must fall.

I’ve written previously about my Paulownia (or Princess tree.) They are a fast-growing tree that originated in the Orient. An interesting thing we’ve found over the years is that the tree loses its leaves each year with the first good frost.

Here is a great Bio on the PAULOWNIA TREE should you be interested.

Our tree after yesterday’s (November 30, 2023) 22f-degree day.

Our tree is approximately fifteen years old. During its first few years, I cut it off at the roots several times with a mower while cutting the grass. Eventually, to save the tree I put a wire fence around the base for a year or so. The backside, not visible here was lost some time ago during a harsh winter. You’re facing due north observing this image.

Within the past few weeks, we had to have an old Maple and a Black Walnut tree cut down.

The Black Walnut

The Maple

To give you some perspective on the size of these trees, the boom on the truck extends 94 feet. That portion of the Maple is hanging over our home, specifically, Mary Agnes’ sewing studio/Quilt shop. She loved that Maple, especially the red buds that came out each year. The tree constantly harbored food for a myriad of Wood Peckers, Bats, Owls, and others throughout the seasons. As she sat in her studio watching the demise of an old friend, tears welled in her eyes, as a Barn Owl flew out of a large rotted portal and lit upon a close by Yellow Pine. “His home will be gone, no more screech during the night.”

As you can see by looking at 2 o’clock on Maple’s trunk, little support was left for the part hanging over the Little Woman’s Quilt shop. I’m sure the Owl will find a new home and trees in the surrounding woods shall provide the necessary insects for the Woodpeckers.

As a side note, that is a Weeping Willow in the background. Appropriately named, as it was a gift from good friends in October of 2012 in memory of the passing of Mary Agnes’ brother Bobbie. As the winds blow, the Willow weeps.

So, for now, a tree shall not fall upon our home on a highly windy day, I feared this during several weather events this past year. Nor-easters and tropical storms frequent the Maryland coast just 30 miles away. I shall sleep peacefully, my ear will not be tuned to the gust of the blowing wi

Should you be interested in just who makes their home in a tree trunk, check out ZOO NERDY.

Don’t forget to check on the elderly,. and thanks for stopping by.

Lite up the season

Thanksgiving dinner prep work is underway at the Rooster’s house. Today it is the filling for the bird, and does it smell good. We passed te baton several years ago, Kathryn had us all, about thirty, last year. Sarah has the honor this year. No taking the ferry on Turkey Day to cross the Wicomico, guessing the operator has the day off, what could be a 15 minute trip will now take 35. Bummer!

Saturday of this week will be the annual Wicomico Yacht Club Boat parade. For the past month in conjunction with the Marine Corps “Toys for Tots” program, toys have been collected and will be distributed up river in the Port of Salisbury.

We will break out some festive things to decorate the house this weekend and they shall remain up until 6 January, the Epiphany (/əˈpɪfəni/ ə-PIF-ə-nee), also known as “Theophany” in Eastern Christian tradition,[1] is a Christian feast day commemorating the visit of the Magi, the baptism of Jesus, and the wedding at Cana.[2]

The wife is a “Facebook” reader, never does she post. On occasion she may ask the Rooster to send a congratulatory note or condolences for us both, that’s about the extent of her correspondence. She has a Quilting friend up in Alaska and that friend recently had a Facebook post tht went something like this:

I don’t mean to be a Grinch, however —to those who who choose Christmas lights, decorations in your yards and the like, please avoid using lights of flashing red and blue together. Every time I come around the corner, I think it’s the POLICE and I have a panic attack. I have to brake hard, throw out my wine, fasten my seat belt, turn the radio down and stash the gun under the seat. All of this while trying to drive at the posted speed limit. It’s just too much drama, even for Christmas. Thank you for your cooperation and understanding.

Sometime we just need to laugh!

I hope all enjoyed their Thanksgiving feast.

Don’t forget to check on the elderly!

ZZZZZZZZ

Do you dream, I certainly do. But, for the life of me I seldom can remember them. Oh I’ll remember a highlight or two every now and then but never the whole thing. Just recently I was Bass fishing ith grandson Tommy, I know where we were, I remember drinking Apple Cider, did I catch something, can’t remember.

Now, the little woman cuddled up next to me, she’s different, people, places, colors, what a memory. Then on wake-up I get the full report. Hold on a minute says I, I gotta Pee. Some things just can’t wait, but this age when you gotta go, you gotta go.

Upon return after the wake-up call, it’s time to listen. The fact that she’s reading each day bout the LDS Church, the (Golden Tablets) caves and Joseph Smith has obviously stimulated her recant ability. Here below is my recollection of the event.

The Dream ZZZZZZZ

Opening her eyes she looked to her palm. What is this envelope? OMG, it’s a medication pouch from the prison. She hadn’t seen one of these since she retired as a nurse working in a prison, and that was years ago.  What is happening she thought, Is this a dream, a step back in time, what pray God was going on?

She started to lift the envelope’s flap, but a voice stopped her. “ No need to look, there’s money in there.” She was told that she was to take the envelope to Zion church. But Zion church where, she thought to herself. In the area of Maryland where she lives there is a Zion church.There is even a Zion Church Rd. Was this where the voice wanted me to go? She closed her eyes and tried to think. 

It was not long when she found herself in front of a church door. How she wound up there, she had no idea. As she reached for the door’s handle, it magically opened. Standing in front of her was a priest in a majestic robe of pink.”Is this Zion church,” she asked? Looking back over her shoulder she could tell she was a in Hartford, CT. Off to her right was the campus of the University of Connecticut. How could that be, the University is 25 miles away in Storrs. How did I ever get to Connecticut?

The priest was of no help she recalled, trying her best to remember what transpired. However, upon entering the church she was met by granddaughter Samantha, Samantha’s husband Zed, and their four children. They were so happy learning that Grannie was reading and learning about the Nephites. Of late, to better understand their religious followings, she had been reading “The Book of Mormon.”

 As she looked around she realized she was awake and was sitting up in bed. Money in a pill envelope? Why Zion church? A priest in pink vestments? Why was UConn in Hartford and why was she there? What did all that mean? And, what is a Nephrite? And, what about those tablets in a cave? 

Perhaps tonight, I can pickup where I left off and get some answers she thought. Time to put her sneakers on and take her two mile walk, A daily ritual for this old gal who turned eighty recently. Read on old lady, she says to herself.

Dreamin’ I’m always dreamin’

Don’t forget about the elderly, we need all the help we can get. As an end note, can’t we just all get along, be KIND to one-another!!!!! Ephesians 4:32.  Be kind and loving to each other, and forgive each other just as God forgave you in Christ.

Chuck IT!

As I’ve mentioned previously, Jack Limpert’s Blog, “About Editing and Writing” is a blog I follow and read religiously. After reading the below I said to me self, “Yep, that be me.”

Back in Junior High, I was told by my mother and stepfather, you must take a Language. French, Latin, and Spanish were the options, I chose Spanish. I was no ball of fire academically back in those days. Actually, it lasted for a few years. It’s only for my desire to play football that I made it through high school and a diploma prior to beginning my formal education in Parris Island, SC.

While in High School I once again was told I had to take a Language and it would be Latin. You got it, didn’t pass that course. A bit of a rebel I was back then. After several tries at ninth (9) grade I was a tenth grader (10) and once again took Spanish. I think the teacher liked football players, and somehow I passed.

After the Marine Corps, I spent a few years as a professional Firefighter. I would find myself at one point, a member of the Special Services/Community Relations arm of the Dept. Sent me they did to a Spanish Speaking class. I got a certificate of completion and actually learned a lot of relevant stuff, ie: Consígueme una escalera, quite useful when one does not want to jump.

I would also, during my career as a State Trooper learn a bit of street Spanish here and there. By the time of my retirement I had been using Spanish for nie on to thirty plus years.

Today, my greatest use of the language is when I tell the young lads who mow our lawn –

“Cómprense unas cervezas después del trabajo.” I’m done with Spanish classes, lets have a cold one.

Why You Should Swap Your Bucket List For a Chuck-It List

September 4, 2023

From a Washington Post column by Valerie Tiberius headlined “Why you should swap your bucket list for a chuck-it list”:

On my father’s 75th birthday, he announced some news: He no longer intended to learn Spanish. He told me that, for most of his life, he imagined he would one day speak the language fluently, but this year, at this new age and vantage point, he was giving up that goal.

He seemed a little melancholy about it but mostly relieved that he no longer had this piñata of shame hanging over his head.

Best of all, he adopted a mental heuristic for this goal-no-longer that I believe has liberating potential for everyone: Learning Spanish, he told me, was now an item on his “chuck-it list.”

Bucket lists can be a fun, inspirational tool — they encourage us to chase new experiences, such as learning chess or going on an African safari. But let’s face it: They can also be oppressive, irritating reminders that you can’t afford that $3,000 flight to Johannesburg.

As a philosopher of well-being, I can tell you that philosophers tend to divide into three camps on the subject: hedonists, who think well-being is all about good feelings; objectivists, who believe we live well when we achieve things with value transcending the individual; and desire satisfactionists, who think well-being means fulfilling your own goals.

I am in the third camp. I like that this approach respects individual differences and explains why there are so many different good lives. But it also has a serious flaw: Focusing on pursuing our goals often leaves us running on a treadmill of desire and frustration.

The solution to this problem lies in choosing which goals to pursue. The mere pursuit of a goal won’t promote your well-being — you have to be selective. This is where the chuck-it list comes into play.

Are you the kind of person who is going to be on your deathbed regretting that you missed your chance to ride in a hot-air balloon, like Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz”? Then do it! But when I really thought about that long-held fantasy, I let it go pretty easily, along with parasailing and completing a “century” (a 100-mile bike ride). I felt liberated when I moved these activities to my chuck-it list. It freed me to think about what I actually want to do — which is, turns out, shorter bike rides and flying only in the safety of a commercial airplane.

Of course, building the chuck-it list can be difficult. In his book “Four Thousand Weeks,” Oliver Burkeman reminds us of the old time-management trick of thinking of your goals as rocks that you have to fit into the glass jar of your life. The advice is to put in the big rocks (important goals) first because otherwise you’ll fill your jar with little, unimportant pebbles and won’t be able to fit in the big ones later.

Burkeman dislikes this advice: He points out that the metaphor presupposes that we can squeeze in all the big rocks if we start with them, which might not be true. I agree. Sometimes, it’s a big rock that we have to move to the chuck-it list.

Discarding goals that we really care about is difficult; failing to complete them can elicit sadness or regret. For my father, the relief of letting go of speaking fluent Spanish came tinged with sadness because he saw learning a foreign language as valuable. When you move things to your chuck-it list because you can’t physically do them anymore (e.g., a marathon), there’s also likely to be a layer of disappointment about aging and the reminder of mortality.

The same can be said about goals on a bucket list made impossible by financial constraints or time limitations: They force us to come to terms with circumstances beyond our control.

So what should we do about these negative feelings?

My neighbor, a retired pianist and choir director, told me she took learning certain difficult musical compositions off her bucket list. She described the resulting feeling as “sweet loss” — sweet because she can still listen to those beloved pieces, loss because she’s not going to be the one playing them.

Accepting this wisdom requires a shift in perspective. Bucket lists tie the value of our dreams to our value as individuals. Once we cut that tie, we can still appreciate the value of our abandoned goals by finding pleasure in the achievements of others.

Shifting away from a self-centered perspective can help giving up goals feel a bit less bitter. And really, what is the alternative? Keep everything on your bucket list and try to stuff all the rocks into the jar? This inevitably leads to disappointment and frustration. It might also lead to missing out on enjoying what wasn’t on your bucket list — things brought to you by serendipity that you couldn’t plan for, or things you’ve been taking for granted.

This is why I believe your chuck-it list is just as important as your bucket list. As you age, you grow into a different person with new priorities; your goals should evolve, too. Give yourself permission to remove those items you’ll probably never get to. And most important: Don’t feel bad about it.

Valerie Tiberius is a professor of philosophy at the University of Minnesota and the author of “What Do You Want Out of Life? A Philosophical Guide to Figuring Out What Matters.”