This one is honor of Andy Rooney, the grumpy `ole writer who entertained us with thought- provoking editorials on Sixty Minutes for a long, long time. He is the consummate curmudgeon, the guy who says what’s on his mind, the old fart that I feel I might have something in common with. Just get over
Tribute to Andy Rooney Read More »
Once upon a time about a week ago, Mark said he heard something in the back yard that sounded like a pterodactyl call. Ignoring the thought that Mark associating a noise back to cave man time meant he is much, much older than I’d previously thought, I grabbed my camera, walked down to the water’s edge
Mr. Squawky and Mr. Spearface Read More »
I don’t know about you, but I already miss the dog days of summer, just sitting in the sun and relaxing now and again. With temperatures dropping and Mark back to school, Little Dipper won’t be sitting outside sunning herself much anymore. Poor thing. I also miss sitting outside and watching birds fly around, like this hummingbird. Of
Farwell Ye Dog Days of Summer Read More »
Holly and I named her Smiggles because she smiled when she wiggled. She played with both of the boys, and stole some of Dusty’s stuffed toys. She liked boxes and bags and anything new. She once was so small she fit in Mark’s shoes. She liked Pop-tarts . . . . . . and cat
On the Passing of a Ferret Read More »
The problem with having two dogs, a cat, two ferrets and 11 hamsters is that cleaning up for visitors is a bit of an event. And things don’t always go as planned. Last Thursday, my dad drove from Grand Rapids to our house in Haslett to take us out for dinner. The house was vacuumed, one
A Wee Wooly Visit for Dad Read More »
When Mark wasn’t raising discus fish and hamsters this summer he spent some of his spare time watching fishing shows on TV. One show featured a fishing fanatic and guide named Doug Samsal who was filmed in a boat on a northern Michigan River catching salmon with spawn and bobbers which he flung overboard and watched float down the
Here Fishy, Salmon Fishy on the Manistee River Read More »
When it comes to pets, I’ve never understood wanting pet fish. I think the problem is that I can’t play with them or pet them like my other pets. Instead, I stare at fish, they stare at me, I pucker up my mouth to make a fish-face, they open and close their mouth in return. And
Here Fishy, Discus Fishy Read More »
My sister, Aby, called me two weeks ago to say that when she and her daughter, Kailea came into town from Illinois there were a few things they wanted to do: 1) catch a fish; 2) see a giraffe; and 3) go to a beach on Lake Michigan. It had been averaging 90 degrees in Michigan and I told
Catching a Fish and Seeing a Giraffe in Michigan Read More »
The thing about hamsters is that they grow quickly. You might remember this baby tan and white baby from the last posting. Two weeks later, he turned into this. The mostly black baby that looked like this: Now looks like this: And the black and white babies that were still nursing a week ago: Now
You’re Sure You Don’t Want a Hamster? Read More »
Our hamster babies were born in the top part of Snuggles’ cage, and not knowing what else to do for our new charges, we put some bedding up there and crossed our fingers that Snuggles would know what to do to keep her babies safe. Luckily, Snuggles knew what to do–she piled the bedding around the babies to keep them
One Hamster Problem After Another Read More »