…extremely bored. A few days ago I woke up and really felt down in the dumps which made me realize that I was just bored. I seem to be sleeping more, but yet am tired more. I should be full of energy but have no energy. None of this is making any sense to me. I have been relatively happy watching Netflix, You Tube, reading, and doing things I enjoyed. I wasn’t doing things I should have been doing like decluttering my closet, sorting through pictures and the like. In the past I would work on my blog and it would entertain me (if not you) and I could come up with topics. With this black cloud hovering over me I headed to the computer to work on a blog and could not come up with anything. My boredom had infiltrated my ability to think or care that I couldn’t think. I turned to my next best friend, Google, to help me understand boredom or what to do about it. So I googled boredom, no I was experiencing extreme boredom so I type “extreme boredom”. The first thing that popped up was there is no such thing as extreme boredom and people who use that expression are immature. Well, that woke me up and made me sit up straight in my chair. OK, let’s see how I can snap out of this. Google will give me some ideas and it did. It told me to google “how does a 10 year old live in Ethiopia, Sudan, Bosnia or El Salvador”. I didn’t do that but I’m sure I would have been very thankful for what I have. I continued on my search and was told to bake some cookies and give them away, scrub the kitchen floor of a friend, wash a neighbor’s dishes. Then it said I should develop some inner amusement skills. Hmm, how do you do that? So you know what I did next. I was told that we learned inner amusement skills at a very early age, that when we went to our parents and said I’m bored, we were told to go find something to do. I do vividly remember being told that and I also remember retrieving an empty shoebox affording me many hours of inner amusement. It was my doll’s bed, it collected grass and caterpillars, it stored any number of things and now that I have bored you I am happy to say I am no longer bored.

…Flag Day, celebrated on June 14 every year, and is the celebration and recognition of the stars and strips. It took three Presidents to get Flag Day on the government radar. President Woodrow Wilson issued a formal proclamation for Flag Day in 1918 and President Calvin Coolidge did the same in 1927. But in 1949 Congress finally approved and President Harry Truman signed the national observance of Flag Day on June 14 into law. Truman said in his proclamation, “This beloved emblem, which flies above all our people of whatever creed or race, signalizes our respect for human rights and the protection such rights are afforded under our government.”

Many towns large and small hold parades on Flag Day and in my memory bank I have many parade memories. As a child they excited me, and I could hardly wait until I could march in one, which I did as a Brownie. Then parades became a fun summer activity to look forward to and take our sons to and then as they got older prepare them to march in as little leaguers or cub scouters. One parade especially stands out in my memory. I lived in a large township in north Jersey, in fact it was 12 miles long, not sure how wide, and it incorporated many schools with many children. When my son turned seven I took to sign up to join little league. I was approached by a woman who introduced herself and said she needed volunteers. Before I knew why she needed them I said I’ll certainly help. This was the first year the township had joined the National Little League and she was the one responsible for bringing this organization to our township. There had been a lot of opposition to the move as there were a lot of rules and regulations and there had to be financial support from the Township. She was not real popular for this and it wound up no one was willing to give her a hand. Oh, except me. She called me several days later absolutely ecstatic that 200 boys had signed up and we had to organize the uniforms and get them to the teams. I figured that’s a job but not that bad. (It was bad) and by the way we’re having a parade on opening day in four weeks. Oh, and we are in charge and organizing that too. (That was really bad) We worked really hard but it was all worth it as my heart really swelled when I saw 200 boys march down the main street of town, all outfitted in their different colored team uniforms all wearing smiles from ear to ear. I think my smile was the biggest. Flag Day and a parade, better than apple pie. Enjoy

(Double click on highlighted sentence and then click on the URL)

 …I had run into Publix, pre-quarantine, to pick up a few things and as I was looking over the available varieties of ice cream, one name hit me.  Otter Paws Ice Cream.  The name and the picture it conjured up in my mind, stopped me dead in my tracks, not the Moose’s Tracks, which was another such ice cream.  I guess I have gotten used to different Moose items, Moose popcorn, Moose Chocolate bars and of course the Moose Track Ice Cream.  But Otter  Paws?  Otters remind me of muskrats, although they are in the weasel family and actually dine on muskrats.  Anyway, seeing Otter Paws reminded me of many years ago when my sons were still young, 10ish, 12ish, they had a Lab mix dog who they loved dearly and who was growing up with them.  She did a lot of outdoor running and was never sick, however this one day she got deathly ill.  We of course were worried and couldn’t figure out what was wrong, but it didn’t seem in those days you ran to the Vet at the first sign of a dog’s sickness. It was awful and we were stymied as to what could have happened to make her that ill, especially that fast. Because she was outside a lot we thought she might have gotten into something.  She recovered slowly but surely, and within a few days she was fine.  About a week later, one of the boys comes running in from the garage all excited wanting to know who took his muskrat feet?  One of the older neighborhood boys must have been trapping muskrats (they did that all the time years ago) and donated the feet to my son, who was drying them in the garage. We all denied touching his ugly muskrat feet, and all of a sudden we said in unison..it was the muskrat feet.  She knew, and we knew, she was guilty.  Head down, not a muscle moving, and oh those woeful eyes.  She was sorry, and certainly learned a lesson, but I would venture to say if there were a few more muskrat feet around, she’d eat them too.  So Otter Paws Ice Cream was not very appealing to me.   I checked what was in it and it said Vanilla Ice Cream, Chocolate Covered Pecans (is that the paws?) and Denali Caramel.  I won’t ask what Denali caramel is, I am only familiar with Denali National Park in Alaska.  After I came back to reality I purchased an old time favorite, something that made sense to me…Butter Pecan…I’m sure there is butter in it, cream turns to butter doesn’t it???

…George Elwood was a night watchman for a large company in London. One morning as George was finishing his shift, his boss told him, “I’m going on a business trip to Norway tomorrow. My flight leaves at noon from Heathrow Airport.” Upon hearing this, George became alarmed and advised his boss to take the boat instead. “Why should I?” asked the boss. “Because last night,” George explained, “I dreamed that a plane to Norway crashed just after takeoff from Heathrow,” Being superstitious, the boss decided to take the boat. When it finally docked in Norway, he learned that the plane he was going to take had indeed crashed. Upon his return to the office, the boss gave a substantial reward to George. And then, he fired him. Why?

(if you read the riddle carefully, the answer is right in front of you. If you can not figure it out the answer is in comments.)

…flooded back today as I came across a similar toy to the one above in a box of real estate memorabilia. This particular toy brought tears to my eyes as I remembered how I happened upon it, and why it has remained as part of my past that I bring along with me. I got my real estate license in 1981, not having a clue that 19% interest rate would effect the ability of people to buy homes, and especially first time buyers. So what did I do, I specialized on working solely with first time home buyers. My naivete also didn’t tell me that working with VA and FHA mortgage programs was not what every one did. I had a very astute mortgage representative that saw my williness to learn and also my desire to succeed and he took that naivete (another appropriate word would be dumbness) and taught me how to sell a house and succeed by finding the right programs for “my buyer”. (Realtors don’t refer to buyers as buyers, they always say “my buyer”) Anyway I did wind up working almost solely with first time homebuyers. In the early 80’s there were no computers so every week an agent received a book, the size of a phone book, delivered to them with all the houses for sale and the most important information it held were the new listings. One day I had a young man come in and I established a working relationship and we were off and looking at houses. He picked a couple of houses he wanted me to show to his wife, which I did. She would come in and the same thing would occur, show her, then show him. This went on for a few weeks and without prying I was trying to get both of them out together and never could. As in any sales position time is money and I felt I had to figure a better way. Back to the book. One rule was you were not allowed anyone but a licensed realtor to use your book. However, I felt this situation was unique and made my own exception to the rule. I called and told them I would like to drop my last weeks book off to them and they could look at it together. When I arrived at the house, my buyer called for me to come in and as I entered the house she shouted, “Chrissy, Chrissy it’s not Daddy” and I immediately became aware of a little 3 year old running across the room and bumping into me, throwing her arms around my legs and when realizing I was not Daddy she retreated with a very scared look on her face. I dropped down on the floor with her and told her I was her friend and my name was Charlotte. She came over and examined me from head to toe. Her little fingers ran across my face spending time on my eyes and mouth and ears. She checked my clothes, my buttons and she checked my high heel shoes. As children do she played the game eyes, ears, mouth and so on. I played it back with her and we became fast friends. Realizing this is why they did not come out together I offered to watch her while they looked at houses. Chrissy and I played many a game. Upon entering a house she would drop to the floor and say foyer, Carpet was living room. Kitchen she knew by tile. Sometimes I would carry her into a carpeted bedroom and she would say living room and when I would say no she would check out furniture. We played many a trick on each other. My young buyers found a home and my time with Chrissy was over. Weeks later out from under my car seat rolled Chrissy’s toy, which I was always going to return to her and I never did. Personally I think I wanted to keep it as a special reminder of a special time with a special little girl.

ducks. One day, after living on the preserve for more then 10 years a pair of very different ducks showed up. They were not like any other duck we had seen, either here or in NJ or Penna. They had very long legs that were bright orange, to match their bill. They did not waddle like a duck, they walked upright, and they did not quack, they had a whistle especially in flight. When I checked them out they are called whistling ducks or tree ducks and although they are called ducks they really are not. Rather they are a sub family. They sometimes will roost high up in trees and they also don’t eat like other ducks. They spend very little time in the water and they eat grasses and grains. They became frequent visitors to our backyard as they quickly realized Sean was providing seed for the various birds and it suited their diet. There were only two at first until they appeared one day with 13 ducklings. Besides them coming to show off their little ones an amazing thing happened. A flock of whistling ducks appeared out of nowhere and perched on our roof and our neighbors roof and just stared down at the ducklings. They stayed for what seemed like hours for as long as they could see the babies. One would occasionally try to get closer, as if to get a closer look but would be chased away by the protective parents. As I researched this behavior I found that they are fascinated with the ducklings and will stare forever at them. Another unusual thing they would do is hide them in the high grass at any fear of danger and they would leave for hours. At the end of day they would again hide them in the grass and fly away, to come back the next morning to get them. They mate for life unlike ducks, who do not. We originally had two and then 15 and then another pair showed up and appeared one day with 12 ducklings. We had at any given time 30 or 40 of them. As we lost more water in the preserve they had disappeared, however the rain we had for a couple of days has restored some water and all of a sudden we see a pair headed towards the house for a meal. Hopefully they will stay and bring a new brood for us to see, and we like a whistling duck will stare for hours at them.

Here they are checking the newly born ducklings.

(click on the above sentence, and then the URL)

…possum. Anyone who knows Sean knows he is not only an animal lover, but loves all creatures. If a spider gets in the house he is in protected territory. He is not allowed to stay, but he is afforded a ride to the back patio. Several years ago a neighbor showed up looking for Sean. She had discovered a baby opossum next to her house and because the weather had been dreadfully hot she was worried he would not survive. Sean couldn’t get there fast enough to retrieve the baby and brought him into the garage. (We will refer to the opossum as baby as male babies are called Jacks and female babies are called Jills and we did not know if the baby was a Jack or a Jill) We called a local organization that rescued all sorts of animals to see if we could bring the baby to them. He was so tiny that we felt without some type of nurturing he would not live. The person who answered the phone immediately asked if it could open its’ eyes. We prodded him a little and he opened his squinty little eyes and seemed to be annoyed we woke him up. But yes he opened his eyes. We were told as long as his eyes are open he will be fine. His Mother had probably just tossed him off her back and he was now on his own. They suggested to wait until evening when it started to get dark and take him into a wooded area and let him go. This way depriving a meal for the hawks or eagles. Sounded like a good plan. Sean had him in a box in the garage where he was safe. Awhile later I went to do a load of wash and what to my surprise was sitting on top of the washer but the box and the baby. I questioned Sean and he said he’ll be more comfortable where it’s cool, the garage is hot. He did put a top on the box to make sure he would not get out. Well, this teeny tiny defenseless critter climbed up the side of the box, knocked the lid off and was gone. Oh boy, we turned the house upside down looking for him. I don’t feel we missed a nook or a cranny in our search. Could not find him, day 1 passes, day 2 passes. I’m frantically trying to find him to toss him out like his Mother did and Sean is worried he has nothing to eat so he sets out water and apple slices. He would come out at night and eat apples, so we put apples in the laundry room, we waited and towards morning closed the door. More of the apple was eaten so now we knew he was in the laundry room. The next night we moved the apples into the garage and again towards morning shut the door. Success he ate more apple, so now we know he’s in the garage. That was very reassuring, as up until we knew he was not patrolling the house, every little noise or any movement of clothes or blankets would make you feel he was about to appear and perhaps bite you. He hid out in the garage for a few more days until one day he was walking along a counter top and Sean scooped him up and secured him until dark. Sean took him across our street into the woods where he probably searched for apples and lived happily ever after.

…come today, and stay awhile so the ducks can play. I mean that seriously. We live on a natural preserve, who’s water fluctuates with how much rain we have. Over the past 10 years we have less and less water which means less and less wildlife. The ducks, and egrets, coot hens, herons, storks, sandhill cranes and alligator do come back pretty quickly when we have a good down pour, and especially when we get a lot of rain from a hurricane. I think many of my friends are not so sure they would like having the preserve in their backyard and the reason I say that is they say you must get a lot of mosquitos, ( which we do not get at all), or I bet you have snakes in there, cotton mouths or water moccasins, and aren’t you afraid of the alligator. We occasionally get a snake and at one point had a black snake living in our pine tree outside our window. He would come out and wrap himself around the tree like Christmas lights and sun himself. He would disappear at the slightest noise or movement, so there was nothing to be afraid of. In case anyone is reading this and is afraid of snakes he is long gone, and I can’t tell you the last time I saw a snake. We have an eagle that comes around, and I can always tell when he is headed this way because the ducks leave an mass. We have large turtles and frogs of all sizes, an occasional coyote will appear looking for a meal, and a bobcat or Florida panther, not sure which as they both are very similar will dart by. Our resident alligator is not a real big one, I was told. A few days after we moved in the cable company came out to set up our cable service. The technician was a young native Floridian. He was in the backyard walking along staring down intently at the grass at the edge of the preserve, which was about 20′ from our patio. When he came in I said did you find the cable, as I thought that is what he was looking for. Oh no, I was following the alligator tracks. That really scared me to think an alligator would be that close. This young man proceeded to give me a lesson about alligators. He told me not to be afraid at all, that unless you feed them they will never leave the preserve. He said the amount of water we had would only support one alligator between 6′ to 8′ at the most. How true were his words. We have never had an alligator on our lawn, but we have had babies visit us. One came in the garage and one on the back patio. I believe they are made to leave and go find their own bit of water.

I love living on the preserve even thou my son has told me that in New Jersey they call it a swamp, and in Louisiana it is called a bayou. All I know is late in the evening to see the birds, ducks and other inhabitants fly off to their favorite roosting areas, there is nothing that is said better than that day is done. Rain, rain please come and stay.

…a day of remembrance.  Although we associate Memorial Day with being a welcoming three day week-end that heralds the beginning of summer with people going to the shore, municipal pools opening and the barbecue masters of the house firing up the grill, it is a day we should first and foremost honor those brave men and woman who have died in service to our country.  The first Memorial Day was May 30th 1868 when Union General John Logan declared the day an occasion to decorate the  graves of the Civil War Soldiers. Twenty years later the name was changed officially to Memorial Day.  On May 11, 1950 Congress passed a resolution requesting that the President issue a proclamation calling on Americans to observe each Memorial Day as a day of prayer for permanent peace and designating a period on that day when the people of the United States might unite in prayer. In 1971 President Nixon declared it a federal holiday and from that time on it was to be on the last Monday in May.  May was chosen because in most parts of the country the flowers  are starting to bloom, and as flowers were one of the ways the graves were decorated.   We honor those who fought so valiantly, and who bravely gave their lives for our freedom, they are our bold angels.  This Memorial Day we should include another group of bold angels that have been lost to another enemy, an enemy right here in our country, the coronavirus. Almost 100,000 Americans have died in just a few short months.  We honor them all and unite in prayer that their families find peace also through prayer and memories.

…Red Nose Day. Red Nose Day was originally started in the United Kingdom by the organization Comic Relief in 1985 and 2014 the United States held it’s first celebration event. Red Nose Day is a campaign to end child poverty one nose at a time. Through the power of entertainment it raises money and awareness to ensure children who need our help the most are safe, healthy and educated in American and around the world.

Big name stars, comedians (something funny for money) and musical acts come together to offer hope, inspire unity and create awareness and raise funds.

So tonight is the Red Nose Day two hour special, starting at 9pm to 11pm on NBC. It should be a very entertaining event, especially coming from everyone’s homes. Hope you enjoy it.