WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

For the tail end of March, you couldn’t ask for a prettier, albeit cold, walking day. The sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was shining.  That sunshine really made me feel good, even though I still needed my woolen layers and heavy coat in the chilly morning air.

I took the car for a spin, and thought about going to Council Point Park while I was driving by, but, I had not brought along any peanuts and hated to disappoint my “followers”, so I finished my little journey, tucked the car in the garage and then set out on a walk. I decided on a round trip to the railroad tracks, a nearly four-mile excursion.

On the way back, as I neared the footbridge at Riverside Drive , I saw some commotion in the middle of the street. There was a puddle in a pothole near the curb and a trio of seagulls were standing at the edge of the puddle, clearly engrossed in studying that pool of water.  Curious, I stopped.  All of a sudden, a small fish leapt out of the puddle and did a somersault in the air.  One seagull lunged for that fish, its long and curved beak slowly opening as it honed in for the “catch”.  But, the other two seagulls never missed a beat and they, too, crowded in and opened their beaks in breathless anticipation of breakfast, each of them thinking “oh, how I wish I could have that fish!”

Well, it is the Lenten season after all.

One seagull grew tired of waiting around and dipped its beak into the puddle and caught that hapless fish by the tail. But the fish rallied back and flipped and flopped until it managed to wriggle free from the seagull’s beak, but this time it landed in the middle of the street.  Oh-oh.  While that fish kept gasping for air and flailing about, each of the seagulls had a go at it, but clearly the fish, who sensed its fate was near, continued to thwart their efforts to catch it.  Finally, the fish let its guard down, gasped, and the wily gull grabbed ahold of the fish and flipped him in the air like he was a flapjack.

The bleeding heart that I am, I started rooting for the fish. I wanted to pluck him out of harm’s way and throw him into the Creek!

I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay, and, I could have pulled out the camera to catch the antics, but it involved unzipping my coat, and pushing aside the scarf and a cardigan to access the camera case – way too much effort, and truly, did I really want to capture the image of these greedy gulls and the unfortunate fish?

Finally, the fish stopped floundering and one gull seized that opportunity and soon had clasped the near-lifeless body between its beak. In one swoop, he took off, before his compadres could steal that prize from him.  Soon he was just a white blip in the perfect blue sky and I moseyed along as well.

[Image from OpenClipArt.org]

My favorite meteorologist, Channel 4’s Paul Gross, says “rain reigns” and, as if last weekend was not bad enough, it will rain through the course of the next few days and maybe next week as well – talk about a soggy Spring!

Well, despite those gray skies, I got a walk in yesterday, and today as well. I’m up to 155 miles so far for 2017, so I’m pretty happy with that tally, considering it is only the first quarter of the year.

Well, yesterday I was overdressed, so today I was determined not to make the same mistake and so I left off one layer. But, Council Point Park was windy and chilly, so I just walked faster to get warmed up.  I doled out peanuts on the fly, without lingering for a visit, leaving the  squirrels running behind me like crazy to keep up.

Spring has not yet arrived at Council Point Park, though the grass seems a tad greener than the last time I was here … must’ve been all that recent rain. But, along my route to the Park, Spring is definitely in the air.  Yesterday’s humid and rainy conditions brought out the worms and the hungry robins who plucked them right out of the ground with their sharp yellow beaks.  As to color, I saw some yellow cold-weather pansies, snowdrops and crocuses, and the waxy leaves for the tulips and daffodils are about five inches high already.

I had very good intentions of walking on Saturday morning, and, before I laced up my walking shoes, and put on my coat and hat, I stuck my arm out the door first, as it was a mighty gray and gloomy-looking morning. Nope – not a drop of precip, so out I went.  I thought I’d take the car for a spin first.  I unhooked it from the battery helper, put the cords away and pulled the car out.  It was idling in the driveway, then … “well look, here comes the rain!”  Soon there were splatters all over the windshield, so I grumbled a bit, no  … make that a lot, then pulled the car back into the garage, and hooked it all up again.  By the time I finished with that business, it was a steady downpour.

Well, I could have just stayed inside where it was warm and dry, not drizzly and drippy.

I didn’t try that exercise again on Sunday – in fact, I stayed in the house all day and continued the big Spring cleaning project which I began in the heart of Winter.

Plus, it was time to tackle learning the new smartphone at the same time, so might as well kill two birds with one stone.

You’ve probably heard the expression uttered by the sexy and defiant Johnny Castle, Patrick Swayze’s character in the movie “Dirty Dancing”: “Nobody puts Baby in a corner!”  Well, I spent most of my rainy weekend in one room, in the corner, and no – I wasn’t wearing a dunce cap either.

As to the big cleaning project over last weekend, Saturday early morning, I pre-treated spots and shampooed the wall-to-wall carpeting and the braided rugs in the kitchen. I left the back bedrooms untouched, as the carpeting really didn’t need cleaning.  Then, I went outside for my ill-fated drive and walk.  So, because I was back much more quickly than anticipated, I had to hang out in the basement for a short time while the carpeting dried a bit.  Looking at the mess and disorganization down there turned my stomach, so, I came upstairs, treading lightly as I walked down the hall.

I had already grabbed the smartphone and its box so as to settle into a room, in the corner, and improve my learning curve while the carpeting and rugs dried … up to that point, I only knew how to turn it on and make a call if needed.

Well, first things first … before I used my brain, I needed a snack. After all, the challenge was daunting – was I up to the task? Best fortify myself with nourishment first.

Then I had to guzzle some more of the dozen or so glasses of water I now chug down a day.

I really knew I was delaying fiddling with the phone, when I decided to shampoo the entire carpeting and rugs a second time … for good measure.

Finally, that chore done, first, I had to charge the phone, then read, read, read. I pulled out the phone package – inside was a handy guide which I set aside, and no fewer than three booklets on loading your Go Phone.  Well, I’ve gone that non-contract phone route for years, so I set those aside.  Next, out came the handy guide (which was not so handy) … a diagram mostly and a quick list of how-tos.

So where’s the rest of the info on understanding the phone … oh wait, all I got was that little fold-out guide?

This was going to be a long day.

There was a litany of lingo to learn … like how to interact with the phone. Talk about letting your fingers do the walking!  There was swiping left or right, then tapping and double-tapping, dragging and pinching.

What did I get myself into?

Perhaps I should have stuck with the flip phone?

First, there were some “swiping issues” … Deena, the kindly manager at the AT&T store said to bring the phone to life, after turning the power button on, by swiping my fingers across the screen.

I did a feather-light sweep of my fingers, more like dismissing something, or someone, … not enough swiping action apparently, as nothing happened.

I pressed harder … to the left … to the right … nope, dead as a doornail, even though the phone was already 3/4s charged.

Finally, I waved my hand the correct “magical way” and there was a sign of life from the device.

Well, whew!

Next to plug in a few phone numbers, from a handwritten list I had jotted down.

Not wanting to bother anyone, I tried just calling my own landline … big mistake as I had not yet located the icon to hang up and thus stop the call. The phone rang incessantly yonder in the kitchen, and I, not wanting to tread across the damp and still slightly soapy carpet, had to listen to it until … hurrah … the red hang up icon appeared and I jabbed it hard with my finger.

I already had a colossal headache.

Well, I then knew how to dial and hang up a smartphone.

Next, I decided to put in my contacts because how difficult could that be anyway?

Well, I opened up the first contact and decided to make it my friend and neighbor Marge. I know you are supposed to be all thumbs when it comes to texting, but my fingers could not hit those dinky little letters and her name did not in the least resemble the moniker of “Marge” … so, I decided to return to that part later, and I piddled around some more and miraculously got the home number in, which was a little silly really, since I have had that number committed to memory since the early 1990s when she and her husband moved next door.  I saved that contact thinking “of course I’ll remember that NZ stands for Marge – surely I will.”

Next, I was inputting Marge’s cellphone number, which I don’t know from memory. Well, this time the cursor skipped right down to the number so I plugged in the number, tried to return back to the name field, and dialed her by accident.  I never call her from my cellphone, since I rarely use the cellphone, so she answered, albeit a little reluctantly.  I was so taken aback, I hung up the phone.  (Thank God for that little red phone hang up icon!)

Well, I knew I had to speed up the learning process and exhibit more telephone courtesies than I had thus far, so I tried again to edit the contact, and pushed or jabbed too hard and irritated the phone which zoned out and soon I had a black screen. Well, what the ….?

Irritated, I started a new contact, trying valiantly to input letters which ended up like gobbledy-gook, and that happened a total of 23 times … and no, I don’t have long fingernails.

Finally, I got one complete contact in for Marge and by accident I called her again … she thought I was a random caller, and probably was ready to give me a piece of her mind, when I, who recognized her voice, said “no wait … it’s me!” “Linda?” she responded. So, we had a nice chat for about 3/4s of an hour.

Next, I tackled my boss Robb as a contact … also dumb of me to waste my time on this, as I memorized his cell and home numbers nearly 17 years ago when we first began working together. I even added the office number – heck, I worked there … but, I was being thorough in case of an emergency, so that I had at least inputted my “ICE” info.  I got in all three numbers on one contact – yeah for me, except after saving that contact, my fingers obviously zigged when I should have zagged, and I phoned Robb by accident.  He didn’t answer, so quick like a bunny, I hit the hang up icon.

Must. Be. More. Careful. People. Will. Lose. Patience. With. Me.

Two minutes later I get an incoming call. Well, geez … I hadn’t gotten that far on how to answer an incoming call.  I scrambled around, jabbing my finger all over the shiny screen, found the green receiver icon and said “hi” and he said “what’s up – you okay?”  I said “yes, I sequestered myself in the back of the house to wait for the carpet and rugs to dry and I’m trying out the new phone” and he said “want to practice with me?”  I thanked him and said that was okay and I was ready for a break at that point and didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

Well, I took five, and stepped down the hall with plastic bags over my feet to get another snack, before sliding back into my stool in the corner of the room, to attempt to learn texting. Well, that would be fun since I’d never done that, except at the computer to people’s cellphones.

I used Marge as a guinea pig and it took twenty minutes to get a simple message to her. I was getting a little fed up.

Frustrated, I finally turned the phone off and the carpet was dry, so I wandered out to the kitchen and to the computer and decided to search online for a manual, which should have come with the phone. I found a 51-page manual which was similar, but I needed my model (AT&T Alcatel Ideal) … how difficult could it be?  It was the simplest smartphone they had at the store.  I found a match … the manual was 80 pages long.  Way too much information than I needed.  I scrolled through, page after page after page, and finally decided … I needed to know just the basics … kind of like when Dragnet’s Sergeant Joe Friday said: “just the facts, ma’am.”

That manual WAS a treasure trove of information, including how to delete things, so the errant contacts were the first things to go, and, I found out how to add contacts an easier way – by flipping the phone sideways – everything was bigger. Why didn’t I think of it and why wasn’t that in the handy-dandy guide?

I put in a few more contacts, and, for the heck of it, texted my friend Evelyn who lives in Richmond, Virginia. I often text her from the computer and her fingers move so quickly when texting, she can match me for keyboard speed.

She texted me right back, and before long, we had generated a thread of 25 messages, and by then, my thumbs were in sync with the keyboard, plus I started relying on bigger words thanks to the auto-complete. A half-hour later Evelyn sent me a message “Atta girl” with a graduation cap emoji.  I wrote back “not before I send this thumbs up emoji” … then, all boastful and such, I took a picture and texted it, and Evelyn replied “you won’t be able to turn that phone loose now!”  “No way” was my reply and I stated emphatically that I was done for the night.  The carpet and rugs were bone dry, so my smartphone education was over for the present time.

Sunday, I scrubbed and waxed the kitchen floor, and, once again was sequestered from the hub bub of the house. I took to improving my learning curve on the smartphone once again – you know … just in case I might have forgotten something from Saturday.  Admittedly, I was happy with my progress to date, and even wondered aloud – “why am I fiddling with this again … could it be that I’m addicted to the texting like Evelyn said?”  No, I decided that this was not the case at all, but, instead I needed to verify that you CAN teach an old dog new tricks.

Even before I took Professor John Azar’s philosophy class at Henry Ford Community College in the mid-70s, I had heard, (and maybe even pondered over), the expression:

“If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?”

Well, people have been contemplating, and/or debating, that conundrum for years, just as they have hashed out the heady notion of whether the chicken or the egg appeared first.

So, whether or not a tree falls soundlessly, its absence indeed makes a noticeable difference, once it is no longer standing tall and regal, but instead, is slumped over onto a grassy slope and half submerged in the murky Ecorse Creek. All that remains now, are remnants of that trunk, bare, with jagged edges and a fresh wood scent.

You might recall my blog post back on February 26^th , wherein I described walking past a tree at Council Point Park, and hearing some large branches rubbing together, and making a creepy, creaking noise.  It was a little eerie sounding, and I hurried on past, lest that tree should crash down across the pathway.

Well, jump ahead a few weeks later, to when I was enjoying my Sunday stroll on March 19^th.

Last Sunday, I took the above pictures of that tree, that had no doubt cracked and fell as a result of those wild winds we had on March 8^th.   But, these pictures really don’t show the extent of the damage … a tall tree, just snapped off like a toothpick, its long-dead branches crowding into the existing trees and parts pointing toward the water.

It was a little sad to see to see the destruction, and, I recalled the earlier walk, and recoiling just a little, when I heard the creaking noises, knowing full well that no good would come to that tree. The proof is seen in the above photos.

I returned to Council Point Park again this morning.

Once again, today dawned cold, but clear, and since the sun was shining, I scooted out the door earlier to get to that destination. I have to bulk up on the miles since rain is in the long-range forecast nearly every day over the next week.  Yesterday was designated as an errand day since my boss was out of the office, and, the time expended on these tasks, helps preserves the weekend for this big cleaning project I have been endeavoring to complete – soon I hope.  But, since I hated to give up the walking, I strapped on the pedometer to count my steps at Meijer, managing to glean a couple of miles from walking the perimeter of the store a few times.  Then, I had the obligatory stop at the service counter to deal with my cellphone faux pas I wrote about last week.

I was actually getting a bit antsy as I saw my walking miles and car mileage “nearly neck-in-neck. So … Must. Walk. More!!!

The sky was bright blue, flawless except for some contrails, which crisscrossed the sky looking like hashtags, or, as if someone upstairs was playing “Xs” and “Os”.

I had a package of peanuts and some of my favorite “followers” were around to partake in them. I told my little pals that there was no time to linger, and no photo ops this morning, as I was just getting my walk in and had to get on home.

I got one entire loop walked and headed for home, happy to have spent some treasured “me time” out enjoying nature.

A cup of dark roast coffee usually clears my brain fog every morning, but, when it comes to the fog in the ‘hood … well, I have to depend on Mother Nature to clear that away for me, and, sometimes she takes her good old sweet time.

When I first looked outside around 7:45 a.m., it was way too murky to head out. So, I was patiently biding my time, 9:00 a.m. being the latest I can leave to get in a decent walk and be home in time for work.

So, I piddled around with this and that.

First, I hung up the Easter wreath, which looked all perky and Spring-y looking in the dull and gray morn. I was reminded of my friend Marge’s recent comment on  my blog, after I mentioned how quickly the red or pink hearts and flowers and chubby cherubs from Valentine’s Day are whisked away to bring forth the St. Paddy’s Day décor to adorn our front doors.  Marge said “each new wreath on the door this time of year brings us closer to Spring and Summer.”

Our Spring weather, just like the dissipation of this morning’s fog, sure travels at its own pace … and that would be SLOW. I could feel that cold air seeping through the front screen door while I adjusted the wreath this way and that, and, the next few days are going to be even worse … downright cold and maybe a snow or sleety mix, at week’s end.  Oh well, we are, after all, barely one day into the official Spring season.

After the final adjustment to the wreath was made, out of the corner of my eye I saw a bright ray of sunshine poking through the clouds. That sunbeam momentarily lit up the sky, so I figured the murkiness would soon disappear.

I got myself ready to go in record time and headed out. I soon realized, that while it was fairly clear for the distance of about one block, the visibility was not so great beyond that.  Even the spires on two nearby churches were cloaked in fog, and trees in the distance looked like thick dark figures in the mist as I walked past Ford Park.  There were pendulous drops of water hanging off wind chimes, awnings and vehicles as I passed homes on each city street.

I walked to the footbridge where the ice had finally melted, but beyond that point, I could see the fog would be worse the closer I got to the River, so I paused a few minutes then turned around to come home. In the Creek, at least a dozen mallards were paddling along paying no mind to the fog.

In fact, most of the ducks were paired up, swimming along amiably, the beautifully colored drakes and their blah-colored mates. At least I assumed it was their mates, since the mallards generally paddle along in pairs, unless they are off eating or preening themselves.

My friend Ann Marie tells me that it must be near mating season for the Canada Geese since she sees them chasing after one another every day around the pond near her apartment building. It was rather comical last week, as their pursuit of their mate (or potential mate), found them slip-slidin’ away on the icy surface of the pond.

Ahhh … young love.

A trending topic on Twitter earlier today touted “World Poetry Day” and nothing is synonymous with Spring more than Victorian poet Lord Alfred Tennyson’s line from the poem Locksley Hall: “In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.”

You know you’ve heard that line before … maybe in your high school English class?

The world is lighter and livelier in Springtime … if only it would get here.

Meanwhile, on the subject of love, around the world, several hundred thousand viewers have been spying on April the Giraffe, as she awaits the birth of her baby, courtesy of a web cam set up in close proximity to April’s living quarters. The proud papa is Oliver and he lives in a separate pen from April.  If you’ve not been to the Animal Adventure Park in Harpursville, New York site yet, or watched the story on “Click on Detroit”, you can take a peek at April at: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClnQCgFa9lCBL-KXZMOoO9Q/live

And, if you decide to be a voyeur and check out that video cam, you’ll discover that April and Oliver are occasionally making goo-goo eyes at one another across their enclosures. I peek in at least once a day.  April does nothing but eat, chewing her cud all day long, or simply staring into space.  There have been 246,000 video cam views as of this evening, and comments galore (4,000+).  One person suggested that April appears to be enjoying Bubblicious Bubble Gum every time she looks in.

Meanwhile, at the Zoo, there is a webpage devoted to April: http://www.aprilthegiraffe.com/

This will be the fourth calf for April, who is 15 years old, and, probably a little exasperated by now, since the originally predicted due date (and proclamation of “any minute now”) was February 22^nd.  The gestational period for giraffes is 15 months.

Some folks have set up a GoFundMe site for April, Oliver and the unborn calf and to help pay for expenses for their annual care and eventual upgrade to their enclosures, plus a permanent video cam set-up. Lest you scoff at that idea, I just checked and they’ve far exceeded their $50,000.00 goal, with a whopping total of $78,603.00 in funds raised to date.

And, just for kicks, there will be a baby-naming contest after the big birth event takes place.

I personally think that Mama Giraffe is holding out to next month to deliver that calf – it would be fitting to have April’s baby born in April, don’t you think?

Yup, we all need a little diversion in our lives … it beats the hum drum existence of these dregs of Winter and the political goings-on, which often leave us collectively shaking our heads.

It is Spring after all – so, it’s a time to be in love, and, if not – then at least be light-hearted!

Yesterday’s weather sure was nothing special, and, about the only purpose it served, was that it kept me in the house, nose to the grindstone, getting my big Spring cleaning housework project done.

I saved the kitchen for last and I know it is always a bugger to get that room in order.  But, I worked from dawn to dusk, and then some, only stopping to eat and go online for about an hour or so. I was even industrious this morning before I set out on my walk.  Yup, a real Suzy Homemaker, so I deserve a gold star on my forehead, and, thus I decided to reward myself with a long Sunday stroll for my efforts.

I planned to leave at mid-day to ensure there would be no black ice on the pathway at Council Point Park, after the snow, sleet and rain that persisted all day long yesterday. That was a smart move because, with the exception of a few puddley places, the paths were clear and free from black ice.  It was cold, but nothing like last week, and there was not so much as a sliver of sun, just a gray and dismal-looking day.  Though it was not so great for picture-taking, it was perfect for walking on this last official day of Winter.

Unlike Friday, today the Park was abuzz with people and critters. The first thing I heard and saw were the seagulls.  They were everywhere, their loud screeching noise disrupting the peace and ambiance of the Park.  They were swooping and diving high above the Park, as well as buzzing down by the Creek, threading themselves in and out of the bare trees and tall marsh grass.  It was like a scene right out of Alfred Hitchcock’s thriller “The Birds”.  I was not the only person thinking “what the ???”  There were many walkers, joggers, a biker and a skateboarder, and several people commented “hey – what’s up with the seagulls?”  There were at least another 50 gulls gathered where the baseball diamond is located too.  Luckily I escaped with no telltale blotches on my hat or coat – whew!

As I crossed the pavilion area to begin walking the perimeter path, my heart just melted when a little fox squirrel came scampering over just as fast as his legs could carry him, way across the field to see me.  He got right up by my feet and I hadn’t had time to pull out the package of peanuts, nor the camera, before he sat up on his haunches and begged.  Being the kind soul that I am, I did not make him wait while I attempted a photo op, but instead sprinkled some peanuts around my feet.  He grabbed one, took off running and proceeded to bury it … he did this three times in a row, before deciding to actually eat one of them.  His industriousness tickled me, so I gave him three more peanuts, then bent down close to him and said “you don’t have to take these three to go – life is short, just eat them now” and then I left.

I was handing out peanuts left and right as the trail was filled with squirrels today.  I finally got a picture later in my journey of this squirrel on the snowy side of the path enjoying his treat.

The ever-present screeching of the gulls was almost deafening. There were many Canada Geese walking around the pathway today, and, even they seemed fascinated with the gulls.  Those geese kept stopping in the middle of the path to look in the direction of the Creek, where most of the activity was taking place.  It was as if they were thinking “can you believe how noisy they are?”  Kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, if you’ve ever heard a flock of geese overhead.  The Canada Geese weren’t in the water as most of the Creek was still frozen over, except some portions which only  had a light skim of ice.  So, these waterfowl were forced to forage for food on the grounds, rather than nibbling on the marshy area’s reeds.

One part of the perimeter path had a low point, so snow had collected, then melted, leaving a big puddle.  Several geese stopped at the puddle to preen themselves.   First one foot, then the other, then under the arms, er … wings.  I stopped, and, once again unzipped my jacket and reached for the camera. I got one shot and after I took it, I was fairly close and quipped “lookin’ good!”  But, my flippant remark garnered a hiss and some serious wing-flapping from one of the geese, while the others gave me a steely look as if to say like “who asked your opinion?”

Once the preening was complete, they gathered in the middle of the path, blocking my way. I could have easily gone around them, but didn’t want to get my shoes all wet.  I waited patiently for a few minutes, but, it was as if they were just being spiteful  and they stood there, refusing to budge.  Finally, I said “pardon me boys, if you don’t mind …” and they reluctantly parted and I went on my way.

I made a few more pit stops to feed peanuts to the squirrels, then veered off the path a tad, once I spotted a female mallard down in the Creek.  I could see her whole body, so I soon realized that Mrs. Duck was not walking on water, but standing on the ice.

I walked over four miles today, and was gone about two hours, meandering along on what for me was a lazy Sunday afternoon.

… I set out on this St. Patrick’s Day morn.

Though I’m not Irish, I felt lucky anyway. Yesterday, freezing rain or snow was predicted for Friday in the early morning, but that crummy weather got delayed, affording me a chance to get out and walk.

I almost did a jig, but stopped myself.

After we scoffed at the Ground Hog all through February for his wrong prediction, he sure was right on the money this past week, after we got slammed with frigid temps and 5 ½ inches of snow.

But, during my walk, I was surprised just how much of that mid-March sunshine melted the snow yesterday. This morning, I could see big patches of grass beneath the dregs of snow … the lawn was not emerald green, but it is getting there.  I looked hard, but I saw no four-leaf clovers peeping in between the blades of grass.

My ultimate destination was the railroad tracks, but, as I neared the footbridge, it was strangely quiet. The Ecorse Creek was frozen solid and there were no geese wandering about either, so my camera remained in the case. The snow and ice on the sidewalk near the footbridge was a little dicey for walking – apparently, no one had shoveled it earlier in the week, so rather than hop, step and jump over the ice and snow, and risk going over the railing and onto the skating rink (a/k/a the Creek), I decided to head over to Council Point Park instead.

I got on the first loop and pulled out a half-bag of peanuts that were stuffed in my pocket from the last time I was here, but I had no takers. Obviously, they were tucked away in their nests in the tall trees.  Well, that was too bad … no furry pals to sweet talk and blabber some blarney to while I tendered treats.

There were no cars in the parking lot, so I might have been the only one visiting the Park this morning. I did one entire loop, than left for home.  Unbelievably, I saw not a single soul my entire trip.  While I wasn’t expecting to meet up with a leprechaun or a snake or two, even the mail carriers, walkers and joggers and the usual dog walkers were absent.  Sadly, there was absolutely no one for me to greet with a wave and a “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!”

I got home without a drop of precip falling out of the sky, and having added a little over four miles to my total for 2017.  No nips of Irish coffee either, just a large unexciting cup of Nescafe.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone.

[Image by Alexas Fotos at Pixabay]

I was thinking about Kermit the Frog crooning the lyrics “the lovers, the dreamers, and me” in the song “The Rainbow Connection” while I was taking the buggy for a spin earlier today.

I decided then and there that a parody of that song’s lyrics would be the perfect headline to describe motoring along on my morning drive.

Regarding the squeezing aspect, I had hoped to squeeze in some walking miles too, despite that bone-chilling cold, because a glance out the front door showed me the snow and ice from the sidewalks and roads had miraculously vanished since yesterday. But, what a bummer … duty called, since our work e-mail crashed for the second day in a row, dashing any hope to get both a walk and a spin in the car accomplished.  That hour-long consultation with the computer guy encroached on my morning “me time” bigtime.

I guess it’s just as well, since I was mighty distracted by the time I left the house. Driving Downriver now takes more concentration than usual these days and sure keeps you on your toes.  You mustn’t even blink, as a car will dart in front of you before you get a chance to hit the brakes.  Yikes!  I’d have a mess of gray hair if I had to commute to work on a daily basis.

It’s been about six weeks since the big Rouge River Bridge project began, forcing drivers headed from Detroit to Downriver to detour until November 2018. MDOT suggested the big rigs take alternate expressway routes, but most everyone seems to prefer Fort Street.  Southbound Fort Street consequently is jammed with back-to-back vehicles most any time of the day you venture out.  Throughout the day, and long into the night, the squeal of sirens, either the incessant whine of an ambulance, or that of a police car, can be heard.  And, the Facebook forums for Downriver are  replete with people complaining about the big trucks, or people driving way over the speed limit, or, even the opposite … those pesky drivers who go too slow.  However, those people aren’t driving all that slow – in fact, they are driving the speed limit, which was raised to 45 mph last year.

Those hapless folks are usually labeled that rather disparaging moniker of “Sunday driver”.

Yup, I am one of those people, and this big project, plus the increased traffic on Fort Street, sure takes me out of my comfort zone whenever I have to leave my street and take Fort Street.

It’s a hundred times worse during rush hour … all those people weaving in and out and squeezing people over. From my vantage point in the far right-hand lane, I just shudder and have a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, hands strategically placed at 10:00 and 2:00 o’clock, like we learned in Drivers Ed all those years ago.

It sure was no picnic this morning, as one lane was out of commission for two large portions of northbound Fort Street, due to a water main break, and AT&T repairing a telephone pole. The latter likely was a case of car versus pole, that no doubt caused the sudden yelp of an emergency vehicle shortly after I climbed into bed and burrowed into the covers last night.

After gritting my teeth for a mile along Fort Street, I was glad to turn down Southfield Road, even if I was headed directly into the sun and couldn’t see a thing. Happily, soon I turned onto the curving stretch of River Drive, and zoomed right past Council Point Park, where I craned my neck to determine how the perimeter path looked.  Surprisingly, it was free of snow.  Then, I was sorry I looked over, as I was suddenly wistful that I was without walking shoes, nor the time, to enjoy my favorite nature nook.

With the expectation of more snow in the a.m., I may not be seeing any green on St. Paddy’s Day, as to the lawns along my regular route anyway, so that wee walk at the Park will get tabled to Sunday at least.

Grrrrrr to the Ground Hog.

[Image by Gerald G at openclipart.org]

There’s a little March Madness in the air and it’s not just on the basketball court.

Mother Nature’s shenanigans lately are leaving us longing for Spring, even though the weather we’ve had the past two days IS more typical for March. We sure were spoiled by those balmy days back in February.  Here in Southeast Michigan, we are lucky our March madness was no “snowmageddon” like Winter Storm Stella.  For the second day in a row, I suited up in warm clothes, slipping on the snow boots instead of walking shoes, just like most of you.

When I opened the screen door, I glanced over at the big thermometer on my neighbor Marge’s back deck, and noted it was 20 degrees, just like the weatherman said, but, in reality … the wind chill made it feel like only 3 degrees. It was so blustery and cold, and where did that three-foot-high snowdrift in front of the door stoop, and all along the side of the house come from?  I had to high-step out the door over the drift, and hop out.  Soon my booted feet felt the crusty ice patches below the snow.  Ugh!

Nope, this white stuff is not going anywhere soon.

I was already feeling miserable before the storm door slammed shut, muttering under my breath “this is for the birds!”

But, even more miserable than me, was one of those very birds, a plump robin who was perched on the top of the cyclone fence, feathers puffed up in an effort to bar the brutal cold from its body. Though robins are not my favorite species of bird, (as you well know if you are a long-time follower of this blog), my heart did soften a bit when I saw him sitting there, as I do feel badly for any of our backyard critters who must survive in these Winter elements.  Marge told me that after the wicked wind blew through last Wednesday, only one of the many squirrels’ nests remained in the huge trees in back of our houses.  The wind tore the rest down and scattered them in neighbors’ backyards.  So, this morning, I glanced up toward the sky, to those bare branches in the massive trees, to see if replacement nests were already in place – there were none.  Well, obviously there are no warming centers for squirrels, so where do they hang out in this freezing weather?  I am curious about their welfare, even though I am not inviting them in for coffee and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches anytime soon.  My heart is not quite THAT warm.

So, are you all over the time change nonsense yet, or did the snowy weather just trump EST’s exit and DST’s arrival? I reset all the clocks on Sunday and did not have to bother with the car clock.  I will confess that I left it the same way all Winter, after asking the tech to set the time when the car was at the dealership for its last recall.  Maybe by November, I’ll consult the manual and make myself a cheat sheet on setting the clock, to keep in the glove box, like I did with the Regal.

While I am comfortable with computers, and able to deal with most of the quirks that come with the territory, it is the other techy things that throw me for a loop sometimes, and those categories waver between “high-tech”, “low-tech” and “no-tech”.

Like my cellphone for instance.

Now there’s a story that still confounds me.

Last week I was sitting here in the kitchen, working away and minding my own business, when I heard that familiar singsong noise, the one when you turn the cellphone on or off. Okay, fine and dandy … except I was here, the phone was a room away, and I ALWAYS keep the phone turned off.  I frowned, shook my head and thought perhaps I imagined that noise, so I dismissed the incident.  But, the next time I got out of the chair, curiosity got the better of me, and I went down to my room, took the phone out of the case, and, it had indeed turned itself on and AT&T had left me a message.  Hmmmm.  What was even stranger, is that there was only ¼ worth of battery power left in the phone, though I rarely use it and charge it regularly.  For the most part, that phone rarely leaves my fanny pack, where it is strapped on, for any emergency that might come up while walking or running errands.

So, I turned the phone off, put the charger on it, and six hours later, it was only charged halfway. The following day it kept turning itself on and sending me messages about how many minutes I had left, and it kept depleting the battery.  Exasperated, I knew Meijer had a big sale on Saturday so I decided I would get a new phone.

At Meijer, I perused the selection of simple phones, picked one and went to the counter to get some help. The girl was friendly and when I told her about the cellphone-with-a-mind-of-its-own issues, she suggested I remove the battery cover, take out the battery and ensure there was no dust in the battery cavity.  Me, the skeptic, said “okay, I will try that, but I’m going to get this new phone anyway for now, since it is on sale … just in case that idea doesn’t work.”

I had not yet tried the sales associate’s “fix” for the glitch, when Monday at mid-day, the phone was up to its hijinks again, but this time it was chirping with a red icon that announced there was zero battery life. Annoyed and frustrated, I figured I’d try her suggestion, and, if it didn’t work, I’d pull the battery out for good until I could get to the phone store.  I did the “fix”, charged the battery and woo-hoo … the phone was as good as new in an hour!  This low-tech trick fixed the high-tech glitch … so, now what the heck do I do with the new phone – keep it or take it back?

Which leads me to another story …

This phone was the first electronic device I have ever purchased at Meijer, as anything else in the past has come from Best Buy. So, when the helpful young miss unlocked the phone from where it was hanging, she handed it to me and I walked to the cash register at the electronics counter.  She noticed my full shopping basket and said “you can pay for the phone when you check out if you want”, so I thanked her and off I went.

I only use the U-scan when I go grocery shopping, no matter how many items I’m purchasing. I can triple bag, or pack things the way I like, to make it easier to unload at home.  So, I scanned my way through the items in the shopping cart, all my wonderful buys at the big sale, and then I got to the cellphone.  I walked over to the U-scan station clerk and asked for her help.  She unhooked the anti-theft device and handed it back to me, so I promptly put it at the end of the belt with the rest of my already-scanned items.  Of course, I assumed that by virtue of unlocking it, she had scanned it in as well … and, if you use the U-scan line, you know if you are mindlessly scanning lots of items, and put one on the conveyor belt without scanning it in, the machine is savvy and will let you know you made a mistake by flashing a message … it’s a sort of silent hand slap.

After I fixed the phone, I decided I no longer needed this new phone. So, I went to dig out the receipt and see if there was any policy on returning electronics spelled out on the receipt. Imagine my chagrin to see the phone purchase was not on the receipt!  The girl didn’t scan it in … but, neither did I!

Well, Mama raised me right, so I called Meijer and asked for the store manager. Breathlessly, I explained my faux pas, then said “please don’t send a pair of Lincoln Park’s finest to my door before I can get back to the store, and, that would be after this snowstorm is over, okay?”

He heard me out, laughed, and thanked me for my honesty, then told me to come back whenever I wanted to, and not to worry about this issue. Whew!  I even offered my credit card number to transact this purchase over the phone, but he said he could not take it verbally – it must be done in person.  He asked for the model number of the phone and said he’d leave a note at the customer service desk.  He conceded that there was a definite technical glitch and someone needed to check out the U-scanners ASAP.

Yup, I agreed, then added “this high-tech stuff just kills me sometimes.”

So, let me see if I’ve got this scenario right … I take back the phone that I never bought, but just hand it over at customer service with no money or credit card tendered. Kinda/sorta makes no sense does it?  So, I think I’ll just buy the phone, then keep it in reserve to make everything a whole lot easier.

If all life’s problems were solved so easily – no Plan “B” would ever be needed, and oh, how simple life would be!

So, here we go again, springing forward, just when it was light enough to take the car for a spin, and still get in a decent walk before I started my work day. But, the bonus of an earlier sunrise is a’comin’ … I just know it.

I wish I could say the same about Spring.

It is barely one week away from the start of Spring, and the weathermen are predicting three or more inches of snow over the next two days. It looks like Mother Nature will get the last laugh as she watches us humans first scramble for shorts and tee-shirts, then reach for the parkas and woolens a short time later.

And, don’t you just know that a pair of groundhogs named “Phil” and “Woody” are laughing and saying “I told you so!”

Meanwhile, today was a beautiful day to venture forth. Since it was so bitter cold, I waited until mid-day to take my walk. I had intended to go to Council Point Park, but, I thought I’d take the camera and see if I could get any pictures of those geese standing on one leg, still as statues, to use with this blog post.  Unfortunately, though I had all the time in the world, a beautiful sunny day, and the camera handy to capture that shot, the geese were gathered on the grass, their legs tucked beneath their study bodies, similar to the above image created by my artist friend Maggie Rust.  Maybe early morning is a better bet to catch them in their flamingo-like stance?

I took the car for a spin two days in a row due to the bitter cold and the predicted snow. As I rolled past the Dairy Queen, the marquis touted “Tis the season – DQ is open” and I’ve got to believe that they counted on that Spring-like weather hanging on a lot longer than it did.  They figured customers would be queuing up to get their Blizzard fix … now they will get their fill of frosty wonders by looking out the window, and driving, walking and shoveling it.

I got a full-fledged walk in this morning. I’d been favoring my foot, and, in so doing,  I’ve been knocking at least a mile off the daily walks, so today I did four miles, and it felt great.  My foot is doing much better, and I hope that good report is the byproduct of chugging down 12-15 eight-ounce glasses of water a day since the beginning of March.

This Winter season has been a little loosey-goosey, and, on the heels of that wicked wind last Wednesday, we are about to pay the price for our unseasonably warm February.

[Image of Canada Goose (2015) by Maggie Rust]

We’re in the deep freeze again.

It’s hard to believe only two weeks ago we were breaking out the shorts and enjoying that Spring-like weather, and now it is back to layering up bigtime and bone-chilling temps.

Talk about being in the icebox … this morning when I left for my walk, it was only 22 degrees and the wind chill made it feel like 11. Brrrrrr.  I donned my down coat, double gloves, and, once on the road, I was mighty glad I had been smart and added the hooded scarf, as that wind sure was fierce.

As I neared the borderline of Lincoln Park and Wyandotte, I saw that same terrier had crawled through the hole in the privacy fence and was running around on the sidewalk yapping and snapping at a man. When the dog started nipping at his heels, the man broke into a run, but kept turning around, checking out this canine who was still dogging him.  I quickly crossed the street, having tangled with this terrible terrier myself once already.  From a safe distance, I called over to the man, a fellow walker, whom I often encounter in my morning walks, that I thought I was the only one this dog didn’t like.  He responded “he tried to take a bite out of my leg one time!”

While crossing the footbridge, I glanced at the geese that had gathered on the homeowner’s large property for the third day in a row. What’s up with that?  Oh, a few were in the ice-cold water, but most of them were trespassing, either strutting around on the back lawn, or standing on one foot.  The flamingo-like stance was something new for me – those geese were lined up like soldiers with one wide, webbed foot neatly tucked beneath their belly feathers, while balancing on one leg.  I did a double take at first, then concluded their feet were freezing and they were warming them up … one at a time.

Just like yesterday, I found myself stepping around branches and tree debris up and down the Boulevard. Emmons is full of large trees, so that was no surprise to see so many small limbs on the ground, as well as large chunks of bare wood, from trees that had snapped during Wednesday’s ferocious winds.

Luckily our neighborhood remained unscathed. Some debris was on the lawn, but there were no shingles missing and nothing amiss – we sure were lucky.  We’ve only had a few really frigid days all Winter, so how unfortunate they had to be at this time when so many people are still dealing with the power outage.  I feel for them.  We lost our power one Winter years ago, and, we hunkered down in the house and stuck it out, but it was pretty brutal.  I recall we went to bed dressed like Eskimos , wearing woolens and parkas , huddled under a pile of blankets and a down comforter … and still being very cold.  The worst was keeping your hands and feet warm.  No happy feet during those days … just ice-cold tootsies.

During my walk, that bright sunshine tempered the cold temps somewhat, making it worth the added aggravation of piling on extra clothes and fighting the biting cold, to get some steps added toward my total.

I got about three miles walked this morning, before I arrived home ravenous and with ruddy cheeks.

And frozen lips.

And fingertips.

But happy feet.

[Image by Moini at openclipart.org]