08 June 2017

Thoughts For Thursday...
One day closer to the weekend, and a respite from whatever "grind" you've been going through.
For me, a return of Wifey back home from southern Indiana (yay!).
Our Hoosierland weather finds us with partly cloudy skies (got a decent sunrise today), temps topping out back up around 77 degrees, and less breezy winds than we had yesterday (which were not bad in my opinion).
So, let's take a moment to get ourselves a nice refreshing drink as we sneak a look at what else has been going one...
*** First off of the patio table is the answer to yesterday's WHO SAID THAT? quote:
"Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself."
This was spoken by yet another newcomer (here), one Walter Inglis Anderson (September 29, 1903 – November 30, 1965) who was an American painter, writer, and naturalist. He was known to his family as "Bob", (?!?)
(I have NO idea WHY they called him that, but personally, I LIKE IT...heh)
And here is his WIKI:
Now, this isn't that long a read, but it is quite interesting.
When you look at his paintings, you see more an impressionist than anything else. To me, it seems he has a touch of Van Gogh in him somewhere, considering his use of colors and shapes.
((Anderson worked as a designer in the family business, Shearwater Pottery, founded by his older brother Peter. In 1928-29 he designed his earliest ceramic pieces: pelican and crab bookends, lampstands, peculiar “Resting” and “Sitting Geometric Cats," a "Horse and Rider" and innumerable plates and vases.))
But his life wasn't all scholarships and design work (both here and abroad).
((From 1938 to 1940 Walter Anderson was in and out of mental hospitals, including the Henry Phipps Psychiatric Clinic at Johns Hopkins Hospital, Sheppard Pratt, and the Mississippi State Hospital at Whitfield. At Phipps, where he spent 18 months, treated attentively by Adolf Meyer and a team of psychiatrists, he was diagnosed with severe depression {"hypothymergasia"} with paranoid trends and schizophrenic {"parergasic"} features.))
Another similarity to Van Gogh. Perhaps that's the curse of such artists.
He was also a writer, keeping logbooks of his travels.
Anderson regarded his art not as a “product”, but: “a process, a means of experiencing the world.” 
He stated writing in this way: “I think writing has a cleansing effect, and although it is easy enough to keep the body clean, the mind seems to grow clogged.”
I tend to agree with him.
((Anderson's work {his family's collection} was partially destroyed when Hurricane Katrina struck Ocean Springs in 2005, and the storm surge penetrated the small cinderblock building that had been built to house his works owned by his family safely after Hurricane Camille.))
Sadly, there is no complete catalog of all his works, but there is a bibliography list, compiled by the Univeristy Press of Mississippi.
*** Next up, time for our "What the hell happens today, Bob? feature:
JUNE 8 -
---It's National Best Friends Day
(few and far between for me at my age - make every one count)
---It's National Name Your Poison Day
(Mine these days is the Pettit-Rudisill neighborhood...wonder why? lol)
---It's National Upsy-Daisy Day
(gleefully greet each morning? Can I get back to you on that one?
*** Next, The Maumee is becoming a "busy" place these days...just not in the manner you'd think whenever we hear about "riverfront development". Here's the story:
A THIRD body found in the river in two weeks? Helluva "trend" isn't it?
A worker discovered a "smell" (I can imagine), and a floater in a log jam. The Maumee has a lot of those (log jams, that is).
Gonna give the coroner a workout determining the cause of death.
Somehow, I don't think that river is becoming an adjunct for any YMCA swimming classes (or riverboat tours in the future).
**UPDATE: Vic has been ID'ed as ex NFL player James Hardy (Elmhurst grad), 31, who went missing several weeks ago 
Gotta be more here than meets the eye (says my gut).
*** Next up, a very good editorial explaining some of the issues connected with "urban chickens". 
Here's the lowdown:
Amazing that "City Council puts neighborhoods before individuals"...(for a change).
((Cindy Joyner, director of Neighborhood Code Enforcement, expressed concern about the coops the ordinance would allow. Amy-Jo Sites, director of Animal Care & Control, said even without legal poultry-raising, her officers answered 50 chicken-related calls last year. “We see chickens running at large already,” she said, adding that “I'm very concerned about irresponsible chicken owners that don't clean up after their pets.”))
These two ladies KNOW their stuff, and I would  be hard-pressed to find any fault in their call on this.
NOT another episode of "Tiny House Hunting".
Mindy Waldron (admin for the Fort Wayne-Allen County Department of Health) chimed in as well, and Councilman Tom Freistroffer, R-at large added that "urban chickens might draw more raccoon, rodents and other pests to neighborhoods".
He's right, because something as simple as an overfilled trash bin draws raccoon and possum (they love all-you-can-eat buffets, too). We've enough two-legged "pests" already.
Yep, that's frigging GHETTO all right!
I see things like this every month around where we live, People (the "locals") are lazy, stupid and uncaring about others (or themselves) when it comes to situations such as these.
*** Next, let's see what's going on over at "Kitten Corner".
I can haz my bell rung?
Okay, so who wound up the cats yesterday? Gallifrey was chasing Violet through the house and she slid RIGHT into the stove. Saw the whole thing up close. Good solid "thud".
Yeah, that's a BAD stove.
She shook it off and dashed away. They both really get up a head of steam.
With all the toys, you'd think they'd have enough to busy themselves.
The good part is when they both quiet down and get to napping. Then all is peaceful in the realm once again.
*** Next up, let's take a short trip to our "Tales of Midnight"...
I don't think I can get up early ENOUGH for him, as he is always waiting for me to feed him. He's either on the patio by the door, or at the foot of the back steps, and he knows that it's time to eat.
Then...it's time to rest.
He didn't even notice the hummingbird that came by.
I sat outside with him until it got dark, and then, he just walked off to wherever he goes for his overnight stay.
This morning, there he was outside waiting for his food (which he got soon enough).
Guess we won't ever have to worry about chickens near here.
*** Last back to the garden gates...there's nothing wrong with having as pet (or several).
I've had pets all my life, and yes, I admit to having two chickens.
Mom got me two baby chicks when I was little (for Easter) one year. They grew quickly, too.
Let's talk CHICKS, man...
This was IN Philly (rowhouses) in the Frankford section, and we kept them indoors. When they got too big, Dad called a friend who had a farm in NJ, and the chickens went to a new home (guess they were eaten - no one ever said).
Why NO, I don't think he's a duck either.
Also had two ducklings, and they followed me ALL over the house,. Funny to watch them climb stairs (yes, they CAN do that).
They also wound up on that farm in Jersey when they got too big.
Thing is, you can't always train such animals to use a litter pan, or have a specific place for them to have for bodily functions.
Dogs and cats are different in that respect.
It wasn't a case of not being responsible. I did what I could (as did my parents)...it just became more a liability than an asset to our household.
Today, people are not even responsible as parents of their own children, so you KNOW how they are with any pets they have. Walk dogs without a leash down the middle of a residential street, let 'em crap anywhere and never clean up after them. That's typical (and unlawful).
And when they get bored with a cat or dog, they leave them run away, or (better yet) THEY move and just turn the animal out to fend for themselves. Who cares, right?.
That's why we have little friends like Hobo and Midnight that come by, looking for a little love that they might have had once.
And that's why people like us give a damn about such creatures.
Someone has to, and better to have a someone who DOES care.
It's all a part of life, and life is too precious to be tossed by the wayside, whether you have two feet or four.
Be well, make a difference to someone, and...
Stay SAFE out there, America.


CWMartin said...

WIA as Bob: Around here, they would say, "Because Bob's yer uncle." I just go with it, I never saw the movie.

I about crapped when I heard it was Hardy. Such a talent at IU, but injuries made things go south in a hurry. First getting hooked on pain meds, then busted for PEDs trying to get back to the NFL.

Good points on the chicken thing. I guess it's another case of, "In a perfect world, you could..."

Violet coulda starred in the next cat video, lol!

Bob G. said...

---Would it be okay (then) if I call YOU "Bob"?
I mean I use it myself most of the time...
---I think he had a hamstring injury (don't quote me), but maybe he also had a hidden head injury as well, That may explain the mental aspect. Would not rule out over prescription of pain med, at all.
---I know we can never live in a perfect world (here), but so many more of us could at least try to give it a go and see what happens.
Wouldn't THAT be a miracle?
(and we could also use a couple of those these days).

Thanks for dropping on by to comment.
(once again, YOU carried the day here).

Stay safe (and well-rested) up there, brother.