Above is a shot from a dock down Redart (which is trader backwards), and below is the view from the Eastern Shore campground we visited Memorial Day weekend.
Lots of blue skies, dock poles and water; similar elements, distinct photos. I'm starting to really like this pairing of different, yet similar, pictures, even if it
bores everyone else to tears isn't too terribly exciting.
The postings this week will be
worse than usual sparser than usual due to everything that's going on. There really is a lot to communicate - not the least of which is information about
Blog Fest 2010, the success of my War on Ants thanks to a multi-faceted approach suggested by
Terro, and a
very special announcement about a major upcoming project that will absolutely ensure that CBW will have not one spare second of time to devote to blogging, which presents a quandary because she likes blogging. If you know where she can clone herself, please let her know.
If you know why she flits between first person and third person, please let me know.
For now, just enjoy the photos and
send somebody to cut my grass since I no longer have time to do that either have a great week.
p.s. Many, many thanks to all of you who have sent thoughts and prayers this way. I've relayed each and every word. It's been a difficult time for so many here in the county this past week, and your words of encouragement provide strength in a time of sorrow. Thank you so much.
12 comments:
Maybe this story will give some of you a few minutes of chuckles in this time of much sorrow. I have been trying to find a certain kind of bar snacks for my loyal 505 club patrons. If your old enough (like me) to remember the smokie,run down, dark old local bars. You may remember the jars of pickled sausage and purple pickled eggs sitting at the end of the bar. My mission (which I decided to except) was to find some of these sausage. They are called pemrose pickle sausage,(some type of meat soaked in vinegar and seasons until pickled) they smell real bad but taste ok (after about 40 beers ) . I searched high and low but have yet to find this type of fine finger food. How ever I found a replacement at the world famous Wal Mart (were substitution is our business) I grabbed a jar(along with underwear,socks newest cd, ant killer, watermelon) you know the regular stuff. I was so proud I was going to have This fine snack(smelly old meat you will taste for 3 days) at the bar for the 505 tonight! When I got to the check out line (I think I was singing the oscarmyer weenier song)I was beaming, as I grabbed the jar and moved it to the counter it JUMPED (slipped) out of my hand! Now this is a gallon pickle jar full of 100 little weenier (about 4 inches long) the jar hit the floor and SPLAT they went everywere! little weenier were rolling across the floor, some man with flip flops on was walk right threw them (they were squshing between his toes) another women was running over them with her cart. I'm chases weenier down the isle shoving them in my pocket, beet red from embarrassment. And the smell oh my it smelled like old tennis shoes, times 1000! The clerk just reached for the microphone (with out as much as cracking a smile) and said clean up on isle 2!I could not get out of there fast enough!!! I think I will wait a couple of weeks before I go back so they will not remember my face. MM
Oh Lord, MM, that is funny. Funny!
Love the pix ..
I think I would love to see purple eggs, MM, but I dont think I want to taste one ...
My WV: grewsic ... I grew sic thinking about the stinky weiners
Beet red - Mark, excellent reference to the pickled eggs there!
CBW - hang in there. Triage the to-do- list. Serenity now.
Mathews Mark, you made me laugh AGAIN. May I suggest a Guest Post week to give CBW a break during a difficult week? I nominate MARK! And the other Mathews readers with such good stories to tell.
Hang in there, CBW, and please put the word out if there's anything we can do to help. Srsly.
Enjoy the pairings of pics!
Oh dear, MM, I am laughing out loud, thinking of those wienies escaping thru out Wal Mutant. too funny!
Back in another life, when I worked for a small grocery store, the owner kept a jar of those pemrose pickled sausages in the cooler. Well, the owner was not the easiest person to work for, so one of my fellow workers used to pee in the sausage jar on a regular basis. Yep, the owner continued to eat those sausages until the jar was empty. I've never told that story, and the owner is now in his 80's.
The sausages smell about as bad as the pickled eggs.
MM, please step in and give us a story for a week or so, giving CBW a little break?
CBW, thinking of you. Please let us know what WE can do for you. You do so much, its our turn now.
Deborah, pee probably improved the taste. They are an acquired taste at best to funny!! MM
Well, MM, if you had to spill a gallon of pickled wieners, I just cannot imagine a better store to do it in!
I do have a fancy for a pickled egg, right about now though - I've never seena purple one?
I missed yesterday's sad, sad news... owing to a transatlantic flight. My deepest sympathies to Bayman, and indeed, to you all.
OK, I am not sure which one is funnier - Mathews Mark's WAl Mutant Sausage NIghtmare or Deborah's Sausages a la Urine.
Bravo!
Now I"m going to bed because after being up since 5:30 this morning and working all day, I"m sick. The end.
p.s. Mathews Mark, if you want to send me a story or a post, please do so. Otherwise, I'll just slap up a photo and you can tell the hot tub story tomorrow in the comments. If I have any energy tonight, I"ll try to tell my version of it. But my version will be two pages long and I'm not sure anyone - myself included--has the endurance for that. Anyway, send me something tonight or tell your tale in the comments. Doesn't have to be the hot tub incident can be whatever you want.
Sniff. Cough. Hack. Weeze. - cbw
The purple pickled eggs (common here) are pickled with beets/beet juice. Ugh.
CBW, take care of yourself, don't worry bout this. Maybe MM will tell another story? Anyway, snuggle up and stay comfy, get well.
Deborah-After having boiled several batches of beets this weekend, I can fully understand them using beet juice - it's very colorful and stains everything up to and including the kitchen counter.
Tomorrow's post is one that's been in the queue for a couple days now but didn't post due to the unfortunate events that transpired. It's about my mother's garden (which is where the beets came from - she'll be giving tours during Blog Fest, just watch out for the killer goose). But if Mathews Mark wants to tell some stories in the comments section that's great. The rest of the week is chock full of things to tend to, so any and all stories are welcomed. That invitation goes to anyone reading. All two of you.
Now it's back to bed before the 5:30 alarm strikes again.
Where I'm from, no picnic, no family reunion, and even no funeral luncheon is complete without a giant jar of pickled eggs. The kind in beet juice. (I never knew there was a non-purple kind!) But I can't STAND beets, so if I'm looking for a red stain, I'll opt for red wine, thankyouverymuch.
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