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Tuesday Tidbits


The last few days of taking care of both Norah and Alfred were fun but sad, too.  Soon our trio would be down to two.  Having attempted to establish a nap time for all, Norah announced she did not want to nap, and insisted on this almost minute by minute all morning.  However, the dogs of sleep caught up with her and she, and Barbie, drifted off regardless of her protestations.

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iTunes is a great place to gather your music, but it can suck, too.  There was a song that nagged at me but it could only be bought with the entire album.  I have been checking literally for a couple years thinking eventually they would release it as a single purchase.  But no.  This week I bought the album - so in essence I paid $11.99 for one song.  That sucks.




Besides being a perfect campfire song to woo a love, it was also something I'd sing to my little Princess when she was upset, hurt, or just needed some Papa time.  the combination of my shoulder, arms holding tightly and this little ditty was mighty powerful medicine.  She doesn't need my shoulders anymore, and the little 3 year old that couldn't live a day without me has grown to be an independent 5 year old.  

Young guys dream, old guys just look back, I guess.

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I stopped reading Parade magazine years ago when I ceased receiving the Sunday paper.  Marilyn vos Savant had a column in it that was something related to her high IQ.  Apparently she knows everything.  Someone wrote her and asked if there was any  physical thing that linked the caveman with us today that has not changed.  She responded that the orgasm is a likely answer. 

Let's take that one step further, then.  What is the single object that has not changed that links all people of all times together?  Forests grow and die, mountains erode, rivers change course and oceans ebb and rise.  It has travelled with all the armies of history,  and a witness to every celebration and every calamity.  



The Moon.

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Usually what happens at Papa's Daycare stay at Papa's Daycare.  But we lift the veil this one time to witness an accident that looks far worse than it really was.  A large, squared-edged glass plate fell on Norah's foot as she and Alfred were playing tag amidst the boxes after the move.  The plate was unbroken and after a short cry,  Norah was again off and running.  I'd certainly question the level of supervision at this place!   

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At a loss of adjectives to direct at my daycare clients last week I stumbled attempting to find a G-rated word to stifle their enthusiasm and, oddly, came up with "honyocks".  I don't know where that came from as I probably haven't ever used that word, or even heard it, since I was a kid.  

Turns out the origin of the word itself is a bit fuzzy.  It was a derogative term directed toward Hungarian-Polish immigrants, but is derived from the Hungarian word hanyag which is someone who is lazy, slothful or slow.

Then again, it may have come from honey chaser which was directed toward immigrants in Montana wanting to farm not realizing how difficult it is to farm there.  There you go.  Class dismissed, you Honyocks, and behave yourselves.

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Looking forward to a few weeks at the Cabin in the Woods.  There are a couple projects that will entail a plumber and I want to see how my new lawn care service is doing.  Hey, Wombie.  Here's a good name for your new business:  Emerald City Lawn Enforcement.  

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Those of you who may be on pins and needles waiting for my pictures of this year's Perseid meteor shower that occurred this past weekend will be disappointed.  It was cloudy all three peak nights. 

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Norah enjoying a nice rain recently at Waterboard.


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Glenn Yarbrough, far right, with the Limeliters


Newspapers being what they are, or are not, these days, sometimes obituaries are lost in the digital forest.  A recent name caught my eye, singer Glenn Yarbrough.  You are forgiven if that name doesn't strike any chord.  Why I remember I really can't say other than he had a song that was featured in an old Steve McQueen film called Baby the Rain Must Fall.  Before his solo career he sang with the Limeliters.  He was 86, had dementia and died in Nashville at his daughter's house.   

Ordinarily, that would be it, right?  But I kept reading.  And discovered a life well worth living.  I very much would have liked to have met this guy when he was able to cognitively look back on his life.  What a life it was.  

The Limeliters were founded in 1959 with Yarbrough the linchpin of the group.  Beautiful voice.  He became restless and left the band  in 1963, wanting to sail but was sidetracked a bit longer by becoming a solo act.  By the late '60's he sold his stable of luxury cars, his home in New Zealand,  his banana plantation in Jamaica, and an apartment in Beverly Hills, California.  With the proceeds he started a school for disadvantaged kids, mostly African-Americans, near Los Angeles.  When the school folded for lack of funds, he sailed the world for 30 years on a 57 foot boat he helped build.  When he needed money he'd come back to land to do some solo work or hook up with the Limeliters for reunion concerts.   
When he did come back to land he'd usually stay on a farm he had near Guadalajara where he grew fruits and vegetable and gave it away to the area poor. 

He said in 1961, "The only thing success has taught me is that success is meaningless.  An audience is like a lynch mob.  Three years ago they were walking out on me.  Now that they know we've been on the Sullivan show, they come and cheer."  

A life in music, a life of adeventure.  A lifetime of giving back.  Mr. Yarbrough, they are going to be cheering you for a long time.  


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Till Next Tuesday...

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