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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.


As the year ends.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.


Return to Maryland
We stayed in Connecticut for four days. My enjoyable highlight is the fact that daughter-in-law Beth always has a grape bowl on the table. Grapes are probably my largest sugar downfall. Granddaughter Jill helps me to keep them from spoiling.
Does eating grapes raise your blood glucose?
These glucose molecules get absorbed quickly and can raise blood sugar levels very quickly. On the other hand, Grapes do not cause blood glucose levels to go up when taken in moderation. The glycemic index of grapes is toward the lower end, which means moderate consumption does not affect blood glucose levels. (Thanks Yahoo)
Thursday evening would be Rebecca’s HS graduation. I elected to stay back and watch the IT feed of the graduation. Luna and I enjoyed the production.
After the graduation, the large extended family returned to Matt & Beth’s home for a celebratory event. Great finger food and beverages prevailed. The star of the evening (Rebecca) would be off to the BUBBLE. Recent years have seen the senior class locked into this facility for all kinds of activities. A safe environment to enjoy an entire night of contests and activities.
We had one more full day with the Connecticut family before our Acela ride to Maryland and Amtrak’s station at BWI. On Saturday of that week, Matt would play UBER and take us to New Haven to catch the train. Once again a nice wheelchair, thanks to my private Red Cap. I tried tipping him, but he refused.
Once again we were seated in car #5, only two seats together this time. The seats are very similar in comfort and spaciousness to First Class airline seating.
The ride to Baltimore was uneventful and on time. The train journey time between New Haven and BWI Rail Station is around 4h 13m and covers a distance of around 269 miles.
Once again Elevators eliminated stairs and we were quickly at the shuttle P/U area. Our plan was to Shuttle to Rental Car Shuttle at the airport and drive home. This method would be cheaper than a trip on Bay-Runner shuttle to Salisbury. This method turned out to be effortless and we were in our KIA in no time.
The Kia was quite responsive in the get-up-and-go area. The side mirrors were horrible for my use. Having an SUV at home I was not comfortable with the close-to-the-road seats. But, all in all, it served its purpose. We would return this vehicle to SBY the next day.
We would choose “The Fishermans Inn” on Kent Island for a dinner stop. I would have Fish & Chips and Mary Agnes would dine with a Sea Food Platter. Shrimp, Crab Cake & Scallops were featured. For dessert, we shared a large scoop of Vanilla Ice cream, made on campus and fantastic.
Our ride the rest of the way home was uneventful. The greatest obstacle, other than beach traffic is sharing the road with the Deer. They never seem to cross at the signs erected by the State Highway Dept.

So, we had a great trip, we highly recommend Amtrak and Acela, should you be traveling the DC – Boston corridor. Thanks for stopping by and glancing at my Rooster Scratchings. Have a safe summer and don’t forget to check on the elderly. One benefit of old age is that your secrets are always safe with your friends … because they can’t remember them!

Way back in 1998
I pulled out my old computer recently and just meandered about, what was I was doing 15 years ago. Writing my first Blog is what I found. It’s hard to believe I’ve been doing this for so many years. So, this is what I did early in the day back then. The little woman was working as a Nurse back then, so no one was around to say “Are you ever going to get off that thing? Today she is retired and I swear, looks at recipes on Facebook all day long. she will deny this of course. I still go to Refdesk quite frequently, as well as the weather. I just love tracking and doing my own predictions on Tropical Storms.
All in all, my first Blog was not that interesting, read on if you wish, have a great weekend and Semper Fi.
My First Day with a BLOG
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?
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
I use a variety 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/
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
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.
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 or coffee to start the day . During the day finds me Journaling, been doing that since 2011. My latest continuing read is “The Paris Review.” Want to make some changes in your life? Try reading “Atomic Habits by James Clear.” Thanks to daughter Kathryn for that one!
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
And Please, Don’t forget to check on the elderly!
Woof Woof
I’m going to share something from “The Paris Review,” it’s one of my yearly expenses and I’m reading of the works of many people past and present. What is the “Paris Review” you ask.
- The Paris Review, American literary quarterly founded in 1953 by Peter Matthiessen, Harold L. Humes, and George Plimpton, with Plimpton also serving as the first editor. It is an English-language review modeled on the independent literary magazines (also known as “ little magazines ”) published in Paris in the 1920s.
After reading this poem in the most recent review, I could not but look at my own pets down through the years, especially dogs.
My dogs started with a Mutt named Lady, I can not remember when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge. However I do know the loss of a pet can be an emotionally devastating experience. I do know Lady was my pal early in life back in the 40’s. Somewhere around the age of 9 or 10 we adopted Scarlet & Amber, Dalmations from the same litter. They were inseparable and lasted at most, and I’m guessing, a month? They had to be returned as they were not good house pets I was told.
Next was Co Co, full name CoCO Mimi Celest by Hecht. I turned that girl into a hunting a dog, ten yards out, back and forth, Quail, Grouse, Pheasant or whatever, kick it to the air she would. She loved the hedgerows of Burlington County, NJ back in the late 50’s and early 60’s. Most of those hedge rows and birds no longer exist. The only downfall of this girl was, she hated getting her feet wet. Whenever we came to a stream, I’d cross, lay the Shotgun down and return for CoCo’s ride across the water.
In 1969 or 70 I brought home from work a medium sized scruffy wire haired dog named Ping. The name, she used to lay beneath the Ping Pong table at the firehouse I worked at. An old LaFrance (1947) 100 ft aerial ladder truck co. in Hartford, CT is what I rode. Back in the day I like to say.
The Mrs. wasn’t too keen on this pathetic looking creature and I remember her saying, “If he so much as nips once, any of the children, out he goes. The kids, a new born, one, 1 yo and another age 3. Never a nip, had that wonderful pet for a good ten years. Called her Ping the Wonder Dog back in the day.
A Yellow Lab with the name of Saucy would also join us those years in Connecticut. Once the fruit of the vine appeared, we continuously found Cucumbers on our lawn from neighbors gardens, the Lords bounty.
After my retirement from the CT State Police we moved to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, a sort of compromise between Maine, the Mrs. choice, and Florida, my choice. We wound up getting a Black Lab – Mix, and what we suspect was the father, a Collie named Chief. That Mutts name was Troop.
We would have a Marsh and a Duke along the way. Next to last we had a Maggi, a Standard Poodle and presently, another Standard Poodle, Benjamin.
Many of the atributes mentioned in the poem I am about to share existed in one or all of our past canines.
Without further ado, I share with you.
| Erica Jong Jubilate Canis (With apologies to Christopher Smart) For I will consider my dog Poochkin (& his long-lost brothers, Chekarf & Dogstoyevsky). For he is the reincarnation of a great canine poet. For he barks in meter, & when I leave him alone his yelps at the door are epic. For he is white, furry, & resembles a bathmat. For he sleeps at my feet as I write & therefore is my greatest critic. For he follows me into the bathroom & faithfully pees on paper. For he is almost housebroken. For he eats the dog food I give him but also loves Jarlsberg swiss cheese. For he disdains nothing that smells— whether feet or roses. For to him, all smells are created equal by God— both turds and perfumes. For he loves toilet bowls no less than soup bowls. For by watching, I have understood democracy. For by watching him, I have understood democracy. For he turns his belly toward God & raises his paws & penis in supplication. For he hangs his pink tongue out of his mouth like a festival banner for God. For though he is male, he has pink nipples on his belly like the female. For though he is canine, he is more humane than most humans. For when he dreams he mutters in his sleep like any poet. For when he wakes he yawns & stretches & stands on his hind legs to greet me. For, after he shits, he romps and frolics with supreme abandon. For after he eats, he is more contented than any human. For in every room he will find the coolest corner, & having found it, he has the sense to stay there. From issue no. 71 (Fall 1977) |
| Don’t forget to check on the elderly. theRooster |





















