Rise & Shine

A typical morning at This Old House
5:00 am (no good reason, just always up at that hour)
Light, no sugar.
Dogs go out…
(are you seriously taking a picture??  I gotta go!!!)
Dogs fed & watered
The Man is already at his desk with lists for the day…
The bear needs to be poked to get ready for school…

Breakfast of Champions, complete with lunch money
Chickens fed…
Horses grained, hayed, turned out and watered…

 See that bus up ahead?
 It’s the one we missed  this morning because I was out taking Rise & Shine pictures.
No, I didn’t make him run for it.
So I drove the rest of the way to school,
passed the bus on the highway, even.
Because sometimes, thats how we roll.
*sigh*
 (it’s dress-down day. For $5, you, too, can dress casual! )
What does your typical morning look like?
Tomorrow AM, if you’re so inclined to join me,
post a pic or two or ten that catches the essence of your typical morning.
I’ll post it here if you let me know the link.
Title your post “Rise & Shine”.


Love is…

If you’ve been reading my blurbs here
at This Old House for a while
you will remember Jeff.
He’s my husband’s dear friend
and This Old House’s restoration guru.
His lovely wife
threw a 50th birthday party for him last night
in a building he made for her behind their lovely home
She has a way with this sort of thing…

There was a basket of these for all…
She calls him her Viking
because of his nordic heritage
and he kinda looks like one too.

They’ve been together since their High School days…
raised a business and a family together
Had their share of sh*t hitting the fan
and still…
love each other with reckless abandon.
 Happy 50th  Birthday, Jeff

Things that make me angry

  Why is it still acceptable to sell goldfish at fairs/carnivals?  The kind where they are hanging around in either a big tank with a gazillion fish that are all struggling to breathe, or they are in individual baggies.  How many of those fish are gonna live beyond the rest of the weekend?  If you’re thinking… hey, it’s just a fish…. apparently you’re not alone.  And I think it’s really sad that so many of us still condone this practice.

  My son came home from the Guilford Fair last night with a fish in a cup.  Yes, a cup…the paper soda kind.   Apparently a family had won the fish, and the bag began leaking as they were getting in their car.  They decided to throw the bag with the fish on the ground outside the car and depart.   My son and his friends were standing nearby waiting for their ride, so they scooped up the fish-in-the-bag and dumped him in an empty soda cup.     

 The only thing we have at home is a goldfish bowl that used to house a beta.  So here he sits, looking very lonely and unhappy in such small confines.  I don’t blame him.  Not sure how long he’ll last, but atleast he is not embedded in a tire tread in a now empty grass lot. 

  When will we regard ALL living things as something to be respected?  When will we all give a damn enough so that this stupid stuff doesn’t happen?  It’s not just the idea of the fish… we all know it goes way beyond that.

For Arthur

  I was folding clothes on the bed watching the morning news. Then the phone call from my sister as we watched the events unfold in horror.  We knew some of the responding crews would be old friends and neighbors of our childhood home – but the fate of the  boy next door surprised me.  Arthur was always the scrappy one.. the tough guy who could get himself or you out of a jam, the survivor, sometimes even the savior. This time he gave all.

Photo I took from his brother Bert’s facebook…

The following is a write-up that appeared shortly after 9/11.

By Frank Williams
Staten Island Advance staff writer
Wednesday, 10/10/2001

   This is the street behind my old house, where Arthur grew up.
He would get a chuckle out of this street sign, I think.

STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. — Firefighter Arthur T. Barry enjoyed his freedom. The 35-year-old spent much of his youth zooming across the American continent on many road trips, all the way to California.

Last year he took a 10,000-mile motorcycle tour diagonally through Canada to Fairbanks, Alaska, and then returned across the northern United States. It took him about a month to eat all that road.

But Mr. Barry’s triumphant adventures came to a tragic end on Sept. 11. The lifelong resident of Westerleigh, a member of Lower Manhattan’s Ladder Co. 15, was on vacation that day. Mr. Barry, who was a handy mechanic, rode the Staten Island Ferry into the city just to drop off a heavy-duty machine at his firehouse near the South Street Seaport.

Arriving after the company had responded to the attack on the World Trade Center’s Tower 1, he found a friend, Firefighter Eric Olsen, and the two of them walked to the scene of the disaster.
Mr. Barry, who remains among the missing, was last seen entering the first tower that was struck.
His sister, Dr. Patricia A. Barry Cosgrove, and her husband, Dr. John Cosgrove, also responded to the tragic event by administering to the survivors and the rescuers.

Mr. Barry joined the Fire Department in 1993 and was first assigned to Ladder Co. 118 in Brooklyn. He transferred to Ladder Co. 15 a year later. Before the Fire Department, he worked as an elevator mechanic for Advance Elevator, New Brunswick, N.J., and a machine-tool technician for A-1 Machine and Tool Co., Elizabeth, N.J.

A graduate of Blessed Sacrament School, West Brighton, and Susan Wagner High School, he attended New York City Technical College, Manhattan. Mr. Barry was a member of the Fire Department’s Holy Name Society, Emerald Society and Viking Association.

He enjoyed swimming and not only went on road trips, but often flew to many destinations all over the country.  Mr. Barry was a parishioner of Blessed Sacrament R.C. Church, West Brighton. In addition to his sister, Patricia, surviving are his parents, Audriene and Bertrand F.; his brother, Bertrand A., and two more sisters, Dr. Kathleen M. Poss and Clare E. Skarda.

Random & the rain

  Two dreary days we’ve had here – and the house is so quiet. Everyone is off to college or back to school and I am not enjoying the silence.  But there is something about the rain, cleansing.  Certainly a new season has arrived.. early!…. When Irene blew out of here, it seems as if she sucked the summer right out of the trees. They’re all turning already, or at least dropping leaves.   So be it.

 Can you believe the difference a year makes?  Yesterday…

Last year…
One more dose of randomness….
I love Marthas Vineyard. When I step off the ferry into that other world
I get the distinct feeling I am home.  
This year we did not get a chance to visit,
and so, feeling just a little sorry for myself,

I ordred the Black Dog’s 40th anniversary cookbook.

I love their menu, their casual retaurant –
and their recipes are delicious and easy.
It came today in the rain and I am doing that silly happy dance.
You know the one.

Seems like yesterday

 Maah preshus baybeee started his sophmore year in HS today. 
 Holy crap. How can that be.
What does Steve Perry have to do with it? 
Well, here’s how it went. 
The rising son came home with a list of stuff he needed from Staples,
 like.. TODAY.
So I hopped in my faithful mom mobile and off I went for said supplies.
In the car, alone, I like to find a good song and sing my heart out.
If I did this with people nearby they’d run for cover.
A few channel hops and Steve Perry and Oh, Sherry came blasting out, 
 immediately transporting me back in time.
Funny how a song can do that…. 
make you feel for a few moments almost exactly as you did
way back then… 
Your first car, (pinto) a boyfriend who might or might not be the one  (wasn’t)
the windows rolled down and your long hair flowing..
the whole world your oyster,  possibilities endless.
….TIME seemed endless. 
I caught a piece of that today, on my way to Staples,  I did.
Thanks, Steve Perry, once again.

I don’t know if I ever really got over that crush.
 

Happiness is….

  A  co-ed bonfire among a dozen or so 15 year olds, where….
They cooked their own food.
They were responsible stewards of the field surrounding the fire pit,
which they built all by themselves the day before.
They cleaned up after themselves!
The party broke up at midnight, when it was supposed to.
No complaints from the neighbors.
The teen years.. mood swings? Check.
Trials and tribulations? Check.
The exhiliration and pain in  the move toward maturity? Check.
Last night, there were no thorns on the rose.
I’ll take that. 
 You didn’t think they were gonna let me go up there and take pictures, did ya?

Calm before the Storm?

What can I say, Irene…. you’re not welcome here.

Weathermen are often wrong, we all know it’s true.  A line from a young boy to his mother….

“Mom, when I grow up I want to be a meteorologist! You get paid to be wrong half the time, how cool is that!”.

I do get a kick out of the excited frenzy of weathermen when they have something big to talk about. Their energy is palpable! And they say the same thing… over…and over again, just to keep the excitement going. It only adds to the giddyness when they are filmed standing outside in the storm in their rain gear, wind and rain whipping in their face.  Why do they do that, exactly, anyway?  Because we won’t believe them if they’re not right out in it?

We’ve got Dog Days this weekend… hard to make the call on what we should have done… call it off? Try to get Saturday out of it and nix Sunday?   The rescues were given the option to make the call, because they are, after all, traveling with their dogs to our site.  Most decided…. LET’S DO IT.  

And so we will.   

If you’re the praying type (most often I’m not…. hypocrit that I am  )…. send a few prayers our way.. that we find homes for all 80 or so of the dogs coming to our event on SATURDAY, since we have now abandoned hope for Sunday…. and that these selfless rescue crews arrive and return home safely.  Those who are not local will be put up in area homes Saturday night and will ride out whatever part of Irene shows up here, returning to their regions after the storm.

Last night we had almost 80 volunteers sign up from our area, all for the love of the dogs.  I’ve got goosebumps just thinking about it.

This old house looks so serene this morning.  While the guys are putting all the outside furniture and fly-away objects in the cellar and the garden has been picked of anything that might be edible in the next week of window ripening, I grabbed the camera to capture the light.

Onward…