Adopt Rosa for Cinco De Mayo !

I have a new favorite.  (Don’t tell Summer)   Shy at first but once you get her out in the open air and the smell of the ocean,  Rosa is transformed into a sniffing, walking, running, stopping, jumping, prancing, happy to be out in the world dog that will make you feel the same.

Every time the Pet Resort brings a new friend in,  they manage to out do the previous one,  and that is a difficult task.   Rosa is smart, quiet, and grateful for all of the attention she is getting and has long deserved.

I could say more, but we will let Bruce take it from here.

Rosa, jump a little higher
Senorita, come sit by my fire
I just want to be your owner, ain’t no liar
Rosa, you’re my stone desire



There’s a new kid in town

Everybody’s talking, there’s a new kid in town, all he needs is some walking…..

His name is Angus,  and as much as we liked Tracy and Petunia,  this dog takes coolness to levels not previously seen.     When the rest of the pups are barking away,  this guy just sits back and tells them all to relax.

You can always tell when someone knows what’s going on without saying a thing.  That is this dude.    I am looking forward to learning a lot from this fellow before someone smart enough realizes there is no finer dog in the land to bring home.

I will tell you this,  if we did not have Summer,  he’d be coming on home with us…..

More to come as we help get this cool cat a permanent crib.

And since we’ve no place to go.

Do I miss it ?  Sometimes, but not enough to move back above the rain/snow line.    The kid in you always wants to play in it,  but the older you get,  the heavier the shovel becomes.    It is on its way,  and to see it on radar is quite impressive.   Snowmaggedon,  The Storm of the Century,  Thundersnow,   Blizzardopolous,  Noreaster,  The Great Snowstorm of ’17,   The Week I caught the Clap…  Wait how did that one get in there ?

So off we go, battening down the hatches,  put the wife and kids to bed,  bring the dog in from outside, tie up the trash cans,  bringing in the outside furniture,  getting all the batteries, flashlights, first aid kits,  firewood,  fungus spray, ice melt, snow melt, rock salt, blow torch, pop tarts and vodka, whiskey and condoms,  penicillin and firearms,   it is time to hunker down,  formulate, fabricate and anticipate that anything can and will happen in the next 48 hours.

When the first flakes fly sideways,  it is katy bar the door,  it’s a white out and we are about to get dumped on,  pounded, slammed, obliterated with a Winter Storm that will make your joints howl the way they did back in ’27 when my great great grandpappy saw it snow for 6 days and lived on nothing but snow and wood bark.

And you better have some respect for Mother Nature, for this is no storm to sneeze at, you don’t want to get caught with your pants down,  or worse caught napping when this beast comes a knocking at your door,  you best have your ducks in a row or there will be hell to pay when it is time to pay the fiddler,  and you better give the devil his due or he may return with his friend named Sleet and nobody can stand that guy as he only makes a racket and knocks the power out.

You still have a few hours left to load up on water and milk and bread and eggs and generators and toilet paper and large quantities of alcohol since you will soon be forced to live with your family for more than an hour at a time and Lordy knows you do NOT want to do that sober.   And while you are at the store, don’t forget the non perishables and condiments and powdered milk and various old time board games such as  “Tell Dad he’s a dick”  or  “How to get away with maiming my siblings with Icicles”,  you know,  all of the old favorites.

Finally,  we have a new custom called naming that winter storm, as Hurricanes were not enough for the media.   So I gotcha covered,  if we are going to prepare for the Storm of the Millenium,  may as well have the appropriate names at the ready for when it comes.  These are only to be used when snow is measured with a yard stick, and the winds howl so loud you’d swear your mother in law was at the door.   If we are going to scare people with these storms, we need to name them properly.  I think body parts work best.

I give you Winter Storm :

Anus, Bowel, Cerebrum, Descending Colon,  Eye socket,  Foot Fungus ( a double whammy),  Ganglia, Hypothalamus, Incisor, Jugular, Kidney Stone,  Lymphatic Drainage, Medulla Oblongata, Pancreas,  Quasimodo (I know it’s not a body part, but it is a good storm name),  Rectum,  Sacrum, Thorax,  Umbilical,  V  (never mess with Winter Storm V),   Windpipe, Xiphoid Process, Yowsa, Zygote.  (ok, I know Yowsa is not a body part, but think of the ratings for Winter Storm Yowsa, coming to a town near you) 

Ok, that’s it for now.  Head for the hills before the storm gets to you, and if you can’t,  make sure you are with just the right amount of people you can stand…..

800 yards

It is not for everyone.  But it is a place unlike any other.  Many men and women come through here on a week to week excursion,  much fewer that come here and never leave, but it is not for everyone.   We are all just visitors here, for this place is truly owned by the extraordinary nature that begins at the waves and finishes up a few hundred yards to the west at the sound.   In between are the birds and the crabs, the dogs and the cats, the owls and the rats, the snakes and the turtles, the rabbits and the foxes.

No matter who thinks they own this or that, the wind will always have the last laugh.   When she decides to kick it up with her friends the rain and the tide,  we are at her mercy and are grateful for the amount of time she lets us stay here.   I will forever be in awe of the beauty that resides here on a day when the Sun pokes her head out from behind the clouds,  the winds lay dormant for a few hours, and the sky turns a shade of blue so sharp you cannot look away when you see it for the first time.   The trick is to never grow tired of such a day, as we live here on borrowed time from the Queen of Nature.  Appreciate the days that always turn out better than predicted,  for this 800 yard stretch has a mind of its own and can turn on you at a moment’s notice.

March has begun, and it is as quiet as quiet can be.  You have to be ok with the quiet to be here.  The slowness and stillness can drive a man crazy, or it can inspire him to do great things as that is where you plug into what you are supposed to do in this world.

The season on the island is about to begin,  let me take you through it this year.   The sounds of the sea,  the smell of the mist,  the seagull call from afar,  and the Saturday parade of cars.

There are many angles to see it from.   The visitor who wants to get away,  the resident who needs them for there are bills to pay.   It becomes a dance of sorts, the common denominator that most understand is that we are all on loan from the mighty Atlantic who lets us stay here a week,  a month,  a year,  a lifetime.

There will be many stories from whence everyone came,  and I will do my best to capture those things here.  It is calm here now,  but we who live here know the storm is coming, and preparations are underway.

The houses are being renovated, the restaurants are opening their doors, others waiting for April and May.   The musicians are tuning up their instruments, as we all know that every dance needs music.     We will start as the winds of March howl outside, telling everyone who truly rules the land that we get to call home.

800 yards and none of them wasted.   Everyone has their own reason for finding it.  Let their stories be told….

Cheer up ! You could live in the U.S.

Let me see if I have this straight.

You may have voted for Trump because you wanted him to win.

You may voted for Trump because you wanted Hillary to lose.

You may have voted for Hillary because you wanted her to win.

You may have voted for Hillary because you wanted Trump to lose.

You may have voted for Bernie Sanders because you did not want either one to win.

You may have voted for your neighbor’s cat Fudgey to make a point that you do not like any human.

You may have voted for your legally insane Uncle Stu’s imaginary friend Wolfgang, in the hopes the aliens would notice and then pick you up at the hangar you built in your backyard.

Well here we are,  three months later, no one is happy (except for comedy writers)  and everyone wants to tear someone a new asshole. In fact, there is a good chance this will become a new reality show on the Anatomy Reconstruction Channel this spring.

There is unrest in the forest
There is trouble with the trees
For the maples want more sunlight
And the oaks ignore their pleas.

Here is a glimpse of our tree :  Male, Female, Caucasian, African-American, Hispanic, Latino, Asian, American Indian, Republican, Democrat, Independent, Libertarian, Conservative, Liberal,  Heterosexual, Homosexual, Bi-Sexual, Bi-Curious, Asexual, Metro-sexual, Lower Class, Middle Class, Upper Class, No Class,  White Collar,  Blue Collar,  Redneck,  Green Card,  Yellow Belly, Purple Heart, Christianity, Judaism, Episcopalian, Rastafarian, Baptist, Lutheran, Methodist, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Mormon, Scientologist, Atheist, Agnostic, Senior Citizen, Millennial, Gen-Ex, Baby Boomer, Meat Eater, Vegetarian, Vegan, Pollotarian, Pescatarian, American, Canadian, Mexican, European, Australian, Russian, Indian, Nostafarian.   (I know I missed at least 2.7 billion people, but hey, who wants to read a novel?)

The trouble with the maples
(And they’re quite convinced they’re right)
They say the oaks are just too lofty
And they grab up all the light
But the oaks can’t help their feelings
If they like the way they’re made
And they wonder why the maples
Can’t be happy in their shade

Here’s some labels you get just for showing up and playing the game :  Mother, Father, Brother, Sister, Son, Daughter, Uncle, Aunt, Cousin, Frousin, Mother In Law, Father In Law, Son in Law, Daughter in Law,  Grandma, Grandpa, Mammy, Grammy, Poppy, Pappy, Granny and Slappy, Boyfriend, Girlfriend,  Fiance, Husband, Wife, Significant Other, Plus One, Infant, Baby, Toddler, Child, Adolescent, Teenager, Young Adult, Regular Adult, Twenty Something, Thirty Something, Forty Something,  One hundred and Something.

For those who hate the unemotional Significant other or Plus One,  I give you : She’s my baby, baby cakes, baby doll, ball and chain, better half, BFF, bitch, boo, bum chum, chick, daddy, flame, home skillet, lady love, hunny, lovebird, main squeeze, missus, old lady, old man, pardner, piece, pookie, schmookie, cabookie, puppy love, sweetie, trophy wife, lovers for life.

There is trouble in the forest
And the creatures all have fled
As the maples scream ‘Oppression!’
And the oaks just shake their heads

So what do we make of all the labels we give each other to keep us separate?  I will take the above list and below is the category or box that I will admit I fall into :   Male, Caucasian, Heterosexual, I would be a Metrosexual except I hate to wear pants, Mipple Class, Cathiest, The Last Baby Boomer, Pescatarian American, who is a Brother, Father, Cousin, Uncle,  Son, Son In law, Father in Law, Husband, Fifty something, I am not a Pookie but on a good day I can be a Schmookie.

Now you may have noticed that I did not list anything poltical, and for that I give you the right to call me a bleeding heart, bloviate, conchie, dittohead, front runner, hard shell, Joe the Plumber, Kool Aid drinker, Limousine Liberal, loose cannon, Minarchist, Mossback. Panda Hugger, Peacenik, Policy Wonk, Politainer, Pundit, Rapatvist, Security Mom, Sheeple, Slacktavist, Swing Voter, or Wonk.

Feel free to go through the above and see where you land.  It may make you feel you are very different from me,  but I have news for you,  you are NOT.  Except for the wearing pants part.

Let’s let Rush close this one out,  and if you get a chance, listen to the song.  It says more in 5 minutes than anything else I have seen in the past 3 months…….

So the maples formed a union
And demanded equal rights
‘The oaks are just too greedy
We will make them give us light’
Now there’s no more oak oppression
For they passed a noble law
And the trees are all kept equal
By hatchet, axe and saw



Fonix is cansulled !!

Hot off the presses from Washington,   Phonics has been dubbed illegal and iz now banned.  From now on you can call things whatever you want !!!

Wot duz this meen ?   Me think ewe no wat this meens !!!

Grammor iz now opshunal,   Spelling iz know longer nessessare,  Punkshewatshun haz been replaced bye pretty photos uv smiley faces.

Injoy reeding everywon…

Next week,   Math will be replaced with something terrific.   Rumor is ,  7 + 5 now equals a pint,   and a quart of milk will now cost you 3 fingers.

That’s an order !

This just in,  another executive decree from the exalted one has come in  (and I don’t mean the Pope)  and this time it appears we are re-writing some old scriptures.   Leave it to the king of the comb-over to pull these out of the do whatever I want hat.

Unconditional love just came in with some conditions.


I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Congress.

And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time. Well maybe only until 2020 but it will FEEL like the end of time.

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, especially if wearing the red, white and blue.

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. Go ahead and trust Russia too.  No really, it’s ok.  They are a terrific country.

It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.  Just don’t call the doctors as I am sure they will be leaving the country.

I tell you the truth, it is no longer hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of the secret service than it used to be for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Now rich men will be first in line, and all will be terrific.

If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the government, and you will have treasure in heaven.  It will all go very nicely for you up there,  trust me.

My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by all women. But now my kingdom is from another place.  I can’t tell you where but it is terrifically cold, everyone drinks vodka and there is a shitload of oil.

All the commandments: You shall not commit adultery, you shall not kill, you shall not steal, you shall not covet, and so on, are summed up in this single command: You must love your mirror as yourself.

Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for all of the news outlets.   For they will be WRONG.

Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of my press secretary,  the one who looks like Chris Farley.    I give you Spicey Boy


For what shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his soul?

Nope,  no joke of that one.   It is perfect the way that it is….
And for those of you ready to scream “blasphemy” ,  I got a get out of hell free card back in grade school from Sister Joseph Lawrence Nelson Reilly of the Convent of extreme suppression.