I'll Drink to That!

Thought for the day: Unlike a hangover, some things are worth repeating.

[source: unsplash]

Funny, but when I looked for an image to show hangover, the pics were all of men. Gee, I wonder why that is...

Anyhow, no I don't have a hangover. The truth is, I've never been much of a drinker, unless you count tea and water. Even so, I do enjoy a nice glass of wine or sip of bourbon from time to time.

But, um, yeah... this is gonna be a re-run. This post originally ran in June of 2013 with the title Cheers' Y'All! and it got a lot of comments back then, so some of you may remember it. Then again, maybe you won't. That wonderful dude Geo recently re-read and re-commented on that old post, so I figured, if he still got a kick out of it, maybe you would, too. (Heck, I'd even forgotten some of it...)

So here goes. I hope you enjoy! I'll be back with a brand new post for next Wednesday's IWSG Day. (The week after THAT, I'll show you some pictures of where we did our adventuring to celebrate our anniversary... I should be recuperated by then...)

P.S. Thank you guys so much for the anniversary wishes. (Yes, you WERE all brilliant.)

********************

Thought for the day:  Whiskey is, by far, the most popular of all remedies that won't cure a cold. [Jerry Vale]

In 1952, Armon M. Sweat, Jr., a member of the Texas House of Representatives, was asked for his opinion of whiskey. Being the true politician that he was, this was his response, as recorded in the Political Archives of Texas:

"If you mean whiskey, the devil's brew, the poison scourge, the bloody monster that defiles innocence, dethrones reason, destroys the home, creates misery and poverty, yea, literally takes the bread from the mouths of little children; if you mean that evil drink that topples Christian men and women from the pinnacles of righteous and gracious living into the bottomless pit of degradation, shame, despair, helplessness, and hopelessness, then, my friend, I am opposed to it with every fiber of my being.

"However, if by whiskey you mean the lubricant of conversation, the philosophic juice, the elixir of life, the liquid that is consumed when good fellows get together, that puts a song in their hearts and the warm glow of contentment in their eyes; if you mean Christmas cheer, the stimulating sip that puts a little spring in the step of an elderly gentleman on a frosty morning; if you mean that drink that enables man to magnify his joy, and to forget life's great tragedies and heartbreaks and sorrow; if you mean that drink the sale of which pours into Texas treasuries untold millions of dollars each year, that provides tender care for our little crippled children, our blind, our deaf, our dumb, our pitifully aged and infirm, to build the finest highways, hospitals, universities, and community colleges in this nation, then my friend, I am absolutely, unequivocally in favor of it.

"This is my position, and as always, I refuse to compromise on matters of principle."

You've gotta love a politician who can speak so articulately out of both sides of his mouth, but he's right, ya know. The abuse of alcohol can lead to all kinds of horrors, but as a social lubricant, it can also be quite... delightful.

Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. [Ben Franklin]

Whoever drinks beer, he is quick to sleep;
Whoever sleeps long, does not sin;
Whoever does not sin, enters Heaven!
Thus, let us drink beer!   [Martin Luther]

While Smarticus and I were in Dahlonega, we went to a wine tasting... in broad daylight even. How decadent! I must admit, I'm a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, so those little bitty glasses of delight put a giddy little giddy-up in my step and made the world look even rosier.

Here's to alcohol, the rose-colored glasses of life. [F.Scott Fitzgerald]

While in that wine-tasting shop, I took pictures of some stuff that tickled my funny bone. So this post is gonna take a look at the funny side of drinking. Yeah, like the good politician Sweat from Texas, I know alcohol has a nasty underbelly, but who wants to write... or read... about a nasty underbelly? Far better to share a smile or two.

A cute bar towel, huh? Not that it's at all applicable to any women I know.

I cook with wine; sometimes I even add it to the food.  [W.C. Fields]

I should've bought some of these napkins, darn it.

I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three, I'm under the table,
After four, I'm under the host.
[Dorothy Parker]

Another bar towel.

I knew I was drunk. I felt sophisticated and couldn't pronounce it. [anonymous]

Yet another towel.

In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom, in water there is bacteria.  [Ben Franklin]

My personal favorite. This sign was next to the cash register.


Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut. [Ernest Hemingway]

This sign was at an antique shop we visited after the wine tasting. It cracked me up. Of course, after three teensy weensy glasses of wine, everything cracked me up.

Not all chemicals are bad. Without chemicals such as hydrogen and oxygen, for example, there would be no way to make water, a vital ingredient in beer.  [Dave Barry]

Here's one of those fun make-believe billboards from the fine folks at dribbleglass (Which reminds me, we're overdue for one of those road trip posts, aren't we?)

Actually, it only takes one drink to get me loaded. Trouble is, I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or fourteenth.  [George Burns]

One must always respect one's beverage.

When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading.  [Henny Youngman]

I drink too much. The last time I gave a urine sample, it had an olive in it.  [Rodney Dangerfield]

Don't try to join the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. It turns out they're apparently against all three.  [Wiley Post]

Wine is sunlight, held together by water. [Galileo]

The mouth of a perfectly happy man is filled with beer. [Ancient Egyptian proverb, circa 2200 B.C.!!!]




The following video is just over nine minutes long, which may be longer than you want to hang around. No problem. But if you have time, I think you'll get a kick out of Bill Cosby's 30+ year-old take on drinking...

And one final clip. A short one, which I could hardly believe I found. This is one of the folk songs my cousin Phyllis and I used to sing when we were teenagers. Anybody else ever hear of it before?

Okay, that's it for now. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

A Spirited Dispute

Thought for the day:  Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every new year find you a better man. [Benjamin Franklin]

[image courtesy of Seniorark]

That ol' Ben Franklin was a smart dude. No doubt, we should all wrestle our vices into submission, and being friends with our neighbors is undoubtedly a good idea, but somehow, I don't think most men would appreciate their ladies looking for a better man each year... ☺

But neighbors... some neighbors make it really hard to get along, don't they? The loud inconsiderate ones who party into the wee hours of the morning, (Without inviting YOU!) the ones who blithely allow (Nay... encourage!) their dogs to evacuate on your lawn every day, the ones who borrow, borrow, borrow and never ever return. You know the kind. Robert Frost told us Good fences make good neighbors, but some people are so belligerent and difficult to get along with, they find a way to try our patience, fence or no fence.

And then... consider some of our world-wide neighbors. In far too many cases, inane disputes between countries have led to wars. And then... there's Canada.

Canadians are extraordinarily tolerant and polite. I can't imagine our neighbors to the north going to war for a frivolous reason. I mean... just look at how they protest:

Q. How do you get a Canadian to apologize?
A. Step on his foot.

Q. How many Canadians does it take to change a light bulb?
A. None. They don't change light bulbs; they accept them just the way they are

So would it surprise you to know that Canada and Denmark have been at odds for decades?

[image courtesy of Toubletap/Wikipedia]

What's their bone of contention, you ask?

Um, a rock.

Yeah, a rock... a BIG rock, but pretty much a rock, nonetheless.

Its name is Hans Island, and it's an uninhabited rock about half a mile in diameter and completely devoid of vegetation. It lies in the middle of Nares Strait, which separates some Canadian islands from Greenland, which, of course, belongs to Denmark.

The problem is, that strait is approximately twenty miles wide at its widest, and according to international law, any country can claim any territories within twelve miles of their shores. So... both Canada and Denmark claim this frigid hunk of Arctic rock as their own.

[wikimedia]

In 1973, the two countries signed a treaty to create a boundary between their territories, but the folks who drew the imaginary line down the middle of the strait kinda chickened out when they encountered the rock right in the center. They hopped over it without assigning ownership to either country.

So... both countries claim it. How do these two countries fight their battle over this rocky island?

With great spirits and a touch of humor.

[Image courtesy of Royal Danish Navy, 2002]

From time to time, the navies from each of these countries pay a visit to this barren chunk of rock.

When the Danes visit, they hoist their flag and erect a sign saying, Welcome to this Danish island.

And... they bury a fine bottle of Danish schnapps.

[Image courtesy of NY Times/Wikimedia]

And when the Canadians visit, they remove the Danish flag and hoist a Canadian one. They also exchange the sign for one that reads, Welcome to Canada... and they dig up the schnapps and replace it with a nice bottle of Canadian Club whiskey.

It's rather nice to hear about a dispute being handled with firewater instead of firepower, isn't it? These guys exchange shots... but it's the kind that warm a man's heart on a frigid Arctic day.

There's an old Danish proverb that says, No one is rich enough to do without a neighbor. I'd say these two countries take this to heart. These fellow NATO members continue to be good neighbors, in spite of a silly little dispute over a rock. Somehow, if oil should suddenly be found at this location, I have a feeling these countries will work that out amicably, too. After all, that's what friends do.




                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Wanta Bet?

Thought for the day:  Forget the lottery. Bet on yourself instead. [Brian Koslow]

[wikimedia]

I could be wrong, but I betcha when man evolved to the point of communication, one of the first things he did was make a wager with his buddy. They likely squabbled over things like who could throw a spear the farthest, who could catch the biggest fish or hunk of meat for dinner, or who could drag his mate around by the hair the longest before she did a little communicating of her own and bit him. The bets became a little more outlandish after man figured out the skill of fermentation. A competitive nature combined with booze... what could possibly go wrong?

[morguefile]

Here's to alcohol, the rose-colored glasses of life. [F.Scott Fitzgerald]

Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut. [Ernest Hemingway]

Not all chemicals are bad. Without chemicals, such as hydrogen and oxygen, for example, there would be no way to make water, a vital ingredient in beer. [Dave Barry]

[amazon]

Heck, bar bets and tricks are so prevalent, you can find numerous books and videos that'll teach you how to con your friends out of drinks and money perform well enough to win those bets fair and square. Years ago, Smarticus did a lot of traveling for work, and when he returned home, he often showed me tricks he'd learned while raising a few beers with his co-workers. Not that I remember the details, but most of the bets involved things like cigarettes, matches, straws, money, glasses, and bottles. Clever. Silly. Harmless.

Other bar bets have been more consequential, like when Ernest Hemingway bet Howard Hawks he couldn't make a good movie from his worst novel. (He could... and he did. To Have and Have Not)

Or when Bennett Cerf bet a client that he couldn't write a book using fifty or less distinct words. (He could... and he did. That client, Theodore Geisel, used the pen name Dr. Seuss to write Green Eggs and Ham.)

But today, we aren't going to worry about the silly, the clever, or the consequential bar bets. Nope, we're gonna talk about an EPIC bar bet. Nobody could get away with pulling off something like this nowadays, but it's amazing that anyone ever pulled it off at all.

The someone who pulled it off was named Thomas Fitzpatrick, AKA Tommy Fitz, who is the gentleman on the left in this picture. He was a Marine during the Korean War, but this intrepid hard-drinking pilot made his infamous bar bet after the war.

[morguefile]

It happened in the wee hours of September 30, 1956, when this 26-year old was drinking with his buddies at a bar in Manhattan.

Fitzpatrick claimed he could fly from New Jersey to Manhattan in fifteen minutes. (Presumably in an airplane, although by that time, I'm sure he and his buddies were already flying pretty high without one.)

Someone dared to challenge his drunken claim. (gasp!)

BET ON!!! (hiccup)

[New York Times]

To prove his point, Fitzpatrick drove to Teterboro airfield in New Jersey, stole an airplane, and without benefit of lights or a radio, flew it back to Manhattan. He'd planned to land on the nearby George Washington High School athletic field, but the dastardly folks there didn't leave the lights on for him. (How inconsiderate!) So, not willing to give up and risk losing the bet, he flew down a narrow street between buildings, lampposts and parked vehicles, and at three o'clock in the morning, set it down on St. Nicholas Avenue near 191st Street... right in front of the bar. 

The New York Times called his feat a fine landing and a feat of aeronautics, and the owner of the airplane was so impressed, he didn't press charges. Fitzpatrick was fined a hundred bucks, and since the monetary amount of the bet was never disclosed, maybe he was lucky enough to have something left over after he covered the fine. Then again, maybe that isn't important. After all, he was already lucky enough to have survived the drunken flight. And that was that.

                                                               Or not.

[morguefile]

Two years later, on October 4, 1958, Fitzpatrick was drinking in another Manhattan bar with his buddies, when someone dared to challenge his drunken boast about stealing a plane and landing it in the street. (gasp!)

What choice did he have? He couldn't let some random dude call him a liar, could he?

No way!

BET ON!!! (hiccup)

[New York Times]

Once again, Fitz drove to Teterboro, stole an airplane and flew it back to Manhattan. This time, just before one o'clock in the morning, he landed on Amsterdam and 187th Street, just outside a Yeshiva building. 

Authorities weren't nearly as impressed with his aeronautical feat this time around. He spent the next six months in the pokey, where I presume the booze was kept well beyond his reach. (Otherwise, he might have made some sort of wager about breaking out of the place...)

Even though Mr. Fitzpatrick passed away in 2009, those who still remember this extrovert with a competitive streak as wide as the Mississippi think of him as a bit of a folk hero.

A drink was even created in his honor... alcoholic, of course.

This drink, called the Late Night Flight, consists of kahlua, vodka, Chambord, blackberries, egg white and simple syrup, and it's designed to represent the layered appearance of New York City's night sky. Pretty, isn't it? (The recipe is readily available online if you're interested.)

This whole story kinda makes me think. Nobody ever claimed that booze increases one's intelligence level or boosts one's decision-making skills, but just think: if Mr. Fitzpatrick could land an airplane under such challenging circumstances while he was inebriated, what in the world might he have been capable of if he'd been sober...?

Next Wednesday will be the IWSG day, meaning I'll be posting here on on Wednesday instead of Friday, but next week, in addition to the Wednesday post here, I'll also be guest posting on another very spiffy blog on Monday, Wednesday, AND Friday. That other blog is The Really Real Housewives of America, a fun and informative blog run by four lovely ladies. They frequently feature guest bloggers, and (woo HOO!) next week, it's my turn. (They must be turning into desperate housewives of America, eh?) Don't worry, I'll remind you on Monday. I hope you can drop by, because I'll be sharing some really smart-assed totally useless helpful tips on saving time and money. Hope to seeya then!

                          Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Leroy bet me I couldn't find a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and I told him that was a stupid bet, because the rainbow was enough. [Rita Mae Brown]

Pairs Nicely With Possum

Thought for the day:  Wine is sunlight, held together by water.  [Galileo]

[morguefile]

No doubt about it, Galileo was a smart dude, and his comment about wine explains a lot. Like why people who drink too much of it later complain about a burning sensation in their gut. Makes sense, right? I mean, it's obviously due to an overexposure to all that sunlight. (They should maybe swig a bottle of sunblock first.)

Talking about wine, there was an article about an award-winning wine in the newspaper last week ... an award-winning wine from (ta-DA!) Wal-Mart. (!) Would you believe a cheap ass inexpensive wine sold exclusively through good ol' down-market Wal-Mart won Platinum Best in Show at the Decanter World Wide Awards? Called La Moneda Reserva Malbec, a Merlot made in Chile, this cheap ass inexpensive wine beat out 16,000 high-dollar wines in a blind taste test conducted by 240 international wine experts, so it wasn't just some poor cheap ass sot sitting on a park bench sipping it from a paper bag who said it's good... the experts said it. Costs about six bucks a bottle. Amazing, huh?

Alas, it's only sold in Asda, Wal-Mart's grocery chain in the UK. Think it'll ever make it onto Wal-Mart's shelves here in the US? Probably not. That classy name and its spiffy-looking label don't quite live down up to Wal-Mart's reputation in our country. Here, labels should probably be written in permanent marker on a strip of duct tape.

Several years ago, I received an email about Wal-Mart possibly bottling and selling its own wines in the near future, and selling them for cheap ass reasonable prices, like two to six bucks a bottle. Still hasn't happened, but if they ever do decide to bottle and sell their own brands, here are some smart ass helpful suggestions for names they can use:

• White Trashfindel
• Kendall Jacksoff
• Walton's Pondscum
• World Championship Wriesling
• Headache in a Bottle
• Sadder Home
• Wrath of Grapes
• NASCARbernet
• Chef Boyardeaux
• X-Lax Collection
• Peanut Noir
• I Can't Believe It's Not Vinegar
• Fifty Grades of Gag
• Grape Expectations
• Nasti Spumante

Okay, okay, I'll stop picking on Wal-Mart. But I'm not done poking fun at booze. Not just wine... but booze, in general.

Whiskey is, by far, the most popular of all remedies that won't cure a cold. [Jerry Vale]

In 1952, Armon M. Sweat, Jr., a member of the Texas House of Representatives, was asked for his opinion of whiskey. Being the true politician that he was, this was his response, as recorded in the Political Archives of Texas:

"If you mean whiskey, the devil's brew, the poison scourge, the bloody monster that defiles innocence, dethrones reason, destroys the home, creates misery and poverty, yea, literally takes the bread from the mouths of little children; if you mean that evil drink that topples Christian men and women from the pinnacles of righteous and gracious living into the bottomless pit of degradation, shame, despair, helplessness, and hopelessness, then, my friend, I am opposed to it with every fiber of my being.

"However, if by whiskey you mean the lubricant of conversation, the philosophic juice, the elixir of life, the liquid that is consumed when good fellows get together, that puts a song in their hearts and the warm glow of contentment in their eyes; if you mean Christmas cheer, the stimulating sip that puts a little spring in the step of an elderly gentleman on a frosty morning; if you mean that drink that enables man to magnify his joy, and to forget life's great tragedies and heartbreaks and sorrow; if you mean that drink the sale of which pours into Texas treasuries untold millions of dollars each year, that provides tender care for our little crippled children, our blind, our deaf, our dumb, our pitifully aged and infirm, to build the finest highways, hospitals, universities, and community colleges in this nation, then my friend, I am absolutely, unequivocally in favor of it.

"This is my position, and as always, I refuse to compromise on matters of principle."

You've gotta love a politician who can speak so articulately out of both sides of his mouth, but he's right, ya know. The abuse of alcohol can lead to all kinds of horrors, but as a social lubricant, it can also be quite... delightful.

Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. [Ben Franklin]

Whoever drinks beer, he is quick to sleep;
Whoever sleeps long, does not sin;
Whoever does not sin, enters Heaven!
Thus, let us drink beer!   [Martin Luther]

Here's to alcohol, the rose-colored glasses of life. [F.Scott Fitzgerald]

A cute bar towel, huh? Not that it's at all applicable to any women I know.

I cook with wine; sometimes I even add it to the food.  [W.C. Fields]

Are these the coolest napkins, or what?

I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three, I'm under the table,
After four, I'm under the host.
[Dorothy Parker]

Another bar towel.

I knew I was drunk. I felt sophisticated and couldn't pronounce it. [anonymous]

Yet another towel.

In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom, in water there is bacteria.  [Ben Franklin]

My personal favorite. This sign was next to the cash register in a wine-tasting shop.


Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut. [Ernest Hemingway]

This sign was at an antique shop we visited after the wine tasting. It cracked me up. Of course, after three teensy weensy glasses of wine, everything cracked me up.

Not all chemicals are bad. Without chemicals such as hydrogen and oxygen, for example, there would be no way to make water, a vital ingredient in beer.  [Dave Barry]

Here's one of those fun make-believe billboards from the fine folks at dribbleglass

Actually, it only takes one drink to get me loaded. Trouble is, I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or fourteenth.  [George Burns]

One must always respect one's beverage.

When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading.  [Henny Youngman]

I drink too much. The last time I gave a urine sample, it had an olive in it.  [Rodney Dangerfield]

Don't try to join the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. It turns out they're apparently against all three.  [Wiley Post]

The mouth of a perfectly happy man is filled with beer. [Ancient Egyptian proverb, circa 2200 B.C.!!!]




Okay, cheers! That's it for now. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

P.S. Just a quick update. In last week's post, I said Nathan's traditional 4th of July hot dog-eating contest got its start in 1916, when four immigrants competed to decide which of them was the most patriotic. Sounds good, huh? Turns out, the hot dog company has been trying to feed us more than hot dogs, because that's a big fat Whopper they've been telling since their PR folks came up with the story in the '70s. In their defense, their creative story isn't entirely made of baloney. After all, they've always prefaced their made-to-order story by saying Legend has it... 

Know News... or No News?

Thought for the day: To look at the paper is to raise a seashell to one's ear and to be overwhelmed by the roar of humanity.  [Alain de Botton]

[wikipedia]

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm a newspaper junkie. Matter of fact, it still bugs me a teensy bit that I had the darned measles when my elementary school class took a field trip to the massive Baltimore News Post building. While my classmates were watching and hearing that huge press in action, I was stuck at home, scratching like a monkey with fleas. Oh well. The newspaper folks made a nifty metal press of each of our names, and I still have that memento, anyway.

[morguefile]

Ever since I was a young girl, I've devoured newspapers, and somewhere along the line, I developed the habit of tearing out articles that pique my curiosity, something I continue to do to this day. In recent years, journalism has changed, almost to the point where I'm beginning to fear Mark Twain was right when he said, If you don't read the newspaper, you're uninformed. If you read the newspaper, you're misinformed. 

Still, it's a lifelong habit I'm not likely to change. Today, I'm gonna share four stories I've saved from the past year or so.

For most folks, no news is good news. For the press, good news is not news.  [Gloria Borger]

Not true. Some news is good. Or at least, it's entertaining...

[morguefile]

** Eating with a degree of dignity can be very difficult for people who suffer with severe tremors. The constant shaking makes self-feeding a challenge at home, and pretty much out of the question in public.

Until now.

Google... yes, THAT Google!... has developed a special spoon that can steady those tremors. Sounds like science fiction, doesn't it? But it isn't; it's technology at its finest. The technology used in Liftware spoons senses how a hand is shaking, and makes instant adjustments to keep the spoon balanced. Shaking is reduced by an amazing 76%.

[morguefile]

** Amsterdam has a rather unusual government-sponsored program aimed at alcoholics. The logic behind this program is to offer alcoholics a better option than sitting on a park bench drinking all day, so they're offered a job cleaning litter from the streets. And paid... in beer. Typically, their mornings start with two beers... then two more at lunchtime, and another one or two later in the day. Oh, they don't just get paid in booze. They also get half a packet of rolling tobacco, free lunch, and ten euros a day. (About $13.50) The program is so popular, there's a long waiting list of chronic alcoholics who are eager to join the beer-fueled cleaning teams. So what do you think? Is this is good idea?

[morguefile]

** In God we trust. Those words are proudly printed on our paper currency, and on some of our state's license tags and/or flags. So it should come as no surprise that the Pinellas County Sheriff's Office in Florida decided to have those words printed on their new carpet. A fine carpet it was, too. Forest green, with the sheriff's yellow badge on it, along with those sacred words. 'Cept for one thing. After being in place for a couple months, a sharp-eyed deputy (or at least sharper-eyed than the rest of the folks around there) noticed a slight misspelling. The rug said In Dog we trust. (Oops!)

[morguefile]

** Isn't the monarch butterfly gorgeous? Its wings remind me of delicate stained glass. Did you know their population has experienced an astounding 90% decline in recent years? Although the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service hasn't placed it on the endangered species list yet, the federal government has pledged 3.2 million dollars in an attempt to save this iconic North American beauty.  Some of the money will be spent on the restoration of natural habitats, including more than 750 schoolyard habitats and pollinator, and gardens, and the rest will go into a conservation fund that will provide grants to farmers and other landowners to conserve additional habitat.

Yeah, I'm pretty enamored with butterflies, especially since this one paused to poop on my head at the butterfly festival we attended last year. (Not really... he just stopped by to say hello.) 

But here's the thing. I learned at the butterfly festival there's something each of us in North America can do to help these beautiful creatures right in our own back yards. (Or front yards; I'm not picky.) Plant milkweed. Really. Monarchs lay their eggs on milkweed plants, which provide the nourishment developing larvae need. Because of development, and the widespread use of pesticides, milkweeds and other nectar sources are becoming increasingly scarce throughout North America. Less milkweed equals less monarchs. The simple act of planting milkweed can transform your yard into your very own monarch habitat and way station. (A fantastic project for kids and grandkids!) You can even get it certified, although I must admit, there's no guarantee that an official sign beside your garden will draw a larger number of butterflies. (shhhh... they can't READ!) However, it MIGHT inspire others to follow suit. Wanta make a difference? Here's your chance. For more information, please see this site and later, how about posting a picture of yourself with a monarch butterfly sitting atop YOUR head? (If they DO poop, it's so small, you'll hardly notice... and besides, it probably smells like flowers... )

Time to flutter off! The eye doctor awaits. Have a super weekend, y'all.

How about some other newspaper stuff to keep you entertained while I'm gone?

                           
                                      Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

P.S. Are any of you having a problem posting Youtube videos? Up until a few weeks ago, I could do it easy-peasy, but now? Not. The video will embed on the draft, but NOT on the preview or published post. It just POOF! disappears. Any ideas? Thanks. Ciao!