It's Sunday. "And, we need more money for roof repairs"

This cute. And, it's appropriate for a Sunday. When you're looking for a regular gig, you might think like the organist.

(Coming up this week, some pretty cool pictures of Wall Gator)

The minister was preoccupied with thoughts of how he was going to ask the congregation to come up with more money than they were expecting for repairs to the church building.. Therefore, he was annoyed to find that the regular organist was sick and a substitute had been brought in at the last minute. The substitute wanted to know what to play.
"Here's a copy of the service," he said impatiently. "But, you'll have to think of something to play after I make the announcement about the finances."
During the service, the minister paused and said, "Brothers and Sisters, we are in great difficulty; the roof repairs cost twice as much as we expected and we need $4,000 more. Any of you who can pledge $100 or more, please stand up."
At that moment, the substitute organist played "The Star Spangled Banner.."
And that is how the substitute became the regular organist!

St. Nancy. A Friday Funny. Pelosi and the Cardinal. Oh, my.

It's week's end, Folks. And, it's time for a Funny.

But, after reading this,  you might think of it as being too accurate to be funny.

The story goes like this (hey, that's better than once upon a time...): 

 One Saturday afternoon, in Washington, D.C., an aide to Congresswoman
 Nancy Pelosi visited the Bishop of the Catholic cathedral in D.C.
 He told the Cardinal that Nancy Pelosi would be attending the next
 day's Mass, and he asked if the Cardinal would kindly point out Pelosi
 to the congregation and say a few words that would include calling
 Pelosi a saint.

 The Cardinal replied, "No. I don't really like the woman, and there
 are issues of conflict with the Catholic Church over certain of
 Pelosi's views."

 Pelosi's aide then said, "Look, I'll write a check here and now for a
 donation of $500,000 to your church if you'll just tell the
 congregation you see Pelosi as a saint."

 The Cardinal thought about it and said, "Well, the church can use the
 money, so I'll work your request into tomorrow's sermon."

 As Pelosi's aide promised, Nancy Pelosi appeared for the Sunday
 worship and seated herself prominently at the forward left side of the
 center aisle. As promised, at the start of his sermon, the Cardinal
 pointed out that Pelosi was present.

 The Cardinal went on to explain to the congregation, "While Nancy
 Pelosi's presence is probably an honor to some, the woman is not
 numbered among my personal favorite personages. Some of her most
 egregious views are contrary to tenets of the Church, and she tends to
 flip- flop on many other issues. Nancy Pelosi is a petty,
 self-absorbed hypocrite & a nit-wit.

 Nancy Pelosi is also a serial liar, a cheat and a thief. I must say,
 Nancy Pelosi is the worst example of a Catholic I have ever personally
 witnessed. She married for money and is using her wealth to lie to the
 American people. She also has a reputation for shirking her
 Representative obligations both in Washington and in California.
 The woman is simply not to be trusted."
 

 The Cardinal concluded, "But, when compared with President Obama,
  Nancy Pelosi is a saint."

Have a good weekend. And, keep laughing. Monday isn't that far away.

ACLU, Christianity, Prayer, Government Meetings, dum-dum bullets

If you don't want to be controversial and don't want to start a fuss, you should not discuss religion or politics.

Too bad.

That wunnerful group of confused lawyers, aka the ACLU, American Civil Liberties Union, has convinced some high end judges that it should be ILLEGAL for any government body to pause for prayer during a government meeting.

One step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Sometimes, even those high end judicial figures take a nosedive when going after a giant leap. Perhaps it's time they go back in time... way, way back...and start taking a few baby steps.

From today's edition of the Jacksonville (NC) Daily News: 

The Onslow County Commissioners called on County Manager Jeff Hudson to give the invocation during the regular meeting, as he had during the Aug. 1 meeting, but referencing a recent U.S. Court of Appeals ruling over the issue of invocational prayer, Hudson refused to give an invocation.

County Attorney Lesley Moxley in a two-page memorandum informed commissioners Monday afternoon about the Court of Appeals ruling in Joyner, et al. v. Forsyth County, N.C.

...nearly 80 percent of the prayers used to open board meetings contained explicit references to the Christian faith.

If there is anyone who needs spiritual guidance at this time, it's certainly every governing body out there. Judging by our current condition, nothing else has helped, that's for sure.

The ACLU (don't get me started on those clowns...what the heck...I will, at the end of this ranting) says that prayers at government meetings reference Christianity. Yeah, I think. What's the problem with that. Might be the way I was brought up, but it seems to me that the majority rules concept should apply. When county commissioners take a vote on any topic, the majority rules. When politicians are elected to public office, they're there because they received a majority of the votes cast.

When checking out Christianity, I found that, in the 20th century, up until 1990 or so, that 87-percent of U.S. citizens said they were christians. A majority, by anyone's definition. Since 1990, that number has dropped. Today, it's estimated that 76-percent still say they are christians. Unless you're dealing with some of that fuzzy math, still a majority. A clear cut one, too.

Of those who no longer claim to be christians, one report goes on to say that it's not because they've switched religions. It's because they've given up on all religions. They've become secularists. Maybe they've become confused because of the likes of the ACLU.

The ACLU. The only thing I'll say is that I have some, but not much, respect for them. Some because they do stand up for the little man, regardless of the odds. Not much because I think they've gotten a big head, live in a little world of their own, and have no idea what the real world is all about.

I remember, back in the 1970's, a big argument against the use of what the ACLU called dum-dum bullets by police. In the last quarter of the 19th century, the Dum Dum Arsenal, a British company in India, experimented with, then produced, expanding bullets. Hollow-point bullets, and the like. They were designed to expand to a larger size once they came into contact with the intended target.

Well, the ACLU said that it was not fair for police to shoot bad guys with these things because they caused excessive damage.

WHAT!?!?

Excessive damage? Again, a do-gooder group that had no idea what it was talking about. Cops don't around shooting bad guys for the fun of it. They shoot bad guys who are either trying to hurt the cops or someone else. Whether they shoot them with a 9 mm, a .45, or a .50 caliber machine gun makes no difference. They have one thing in mind: to stop the assault of a dangerous nut.

For those who might not understand, the hollow point bullet does expand. And, it does create more damage to the bad guy. More bang for the buck, if you will. However, it's also MUCH safer to innocent people. A bullet carries x-amount of energy. A lot of work has gone into designing bullets that have enough energy to get the job done in a variety of scenarios. In the law enforcement arena, cops deal with one bad guy in the middle of a lot of good guys. A bullet with enough energy to render a bad guy neutral (aka dead) often has enough energy to continue on its journey, exiting the bad guy's torso, and injuring those innocents I mentioned.

An expanding bullet quickly loses it energy. Actually, it transfers its energy to it's target. The bad guy. Less likely to exit the torso and hurt anyone else.

By transferring, quickly, all of that energy, it provides additional safety to a vulnerable officer. It is likely to immediately render the assailant incapable of continuing the assault. That becomes even more important when the bad guy has a shotgun or other weapon of mass destruction. Last thing you want is for a wounded assailant who can return fire.

Maybe the ACLU should take a lesson in real life,  and let the majority rule.  

First, though, let's bow our heads and Say a Little Prayer for Me. Wonder if they plan to censor Dionne Warwick's 1970's hit song?

The Lawyer and the Senior

Sometimes, they're just too good not to add to a blog. I love lawyer stories.

A lawyer and a senior citizen are sitting next to each other on a long
> flight.
>
> The lawyer is thinking that seniors are so dumb that he could get one over
> on them easily.
>
>
> So, the lawyer asks if the senior would like to play a fun game.
>
> The senior is tired and just wants to take a nap, so he  politely declines
> and tries to catch a few winks.
>
> The lawyer persists, saying that the game is a lot of fun...."I ask you a
> question, and if you don't know the answer, you pay me only $5.00. Then
> you
> ask me one, and if I don't know the answer, I will pay you $500.00," he
> says.
>
> This catches the senior's attention and, to keep the lawyer quiet, he
> agrees
> to play the game.
>
> The lawyer asks the first question. "What's the distance from the Earth to
> the Moon?"
>
> The senior doesn't say a word, but reaches into his pocket, pulls out a
> five-dollar bill, and hands it to the lawyer.
>
> Now, it's the senior's turn. He asks the lawyer, "What goes up a hill with
> three legs, and comes down with four?"
>
> The lawyer uses his laptop to search all references he can find on the
> Net.
>
> He sends E-mails to all the smart friends he knows; all to no avail.
> After
> an hour of searching, he finally gives up.
>
> He wakes the senior and hands him $500.00. The senior pockets the $500.00
> and goes right back to sleep.
>
> The lawyer is going nuts not knowing the answer. He wakes the senior up
> and
> asks, "Well, so what goes up a hill with three legs and comes down with
> four?"
>
> The senior reaches into his pocket, hands the lawyer $5.00, and goes back
> to
> sleep.

Turtle Update. I ID'd him as the wrong species of turtle.

What I was lead to believe was a common box turtle (see earlier post), is apparently not. Mac, as my wife named him, appears to be a Slider Turtle. A sharp-eyed biologist saw the earlier post, and said that it appeared the creature in our backyard is not a box turtle.

Bill is a graduate of NC State (Go Wolfpack!!!!), a biologist who has spent his share of time in the swamps and creeks of eastern North Carolina.

So, here we have our turtle, a slider. New pictures I sent him today pretty much confirm what he originally thought.

A Yellow Bellied Slider.

Cool markings when you take the time to look closely.

A shy little guy, though. Gotta do something to bring him out of his shell (pardon the pun with malice aforethought).

They like hanging out on logs, and will slide ride in when you approach.

The scientific stuff says they can get up to about ten inches long, and live a quarter century, maybe a few years longer. Don't tell Robie. She's convinced this one came on board in the 1960's. Who knows? He's likely been living a relaxed life, no stress, and could be one of those that live a lot longer than the average. Or, maybe he's the offspring of the original Mac from the 60's. Mac Junior, perhaps.

No stress, did I say? Well, except for a thorough exam by our cat, EvinRude. Yes, that's what I named him 'cause he purrrrs like a well-tuned Evinrude outboard.

Adult sliders feed on weeds, bugs and carrion (whatever that is). Young ones actually eat meat. Mac chowed down on a little leftover mango yesterday.

Ok, so there you have it. We have a slider turtle living in our back yard. Guess we'll need to get him closer to a swamp, though. Or, I'll be digging a pond out back. AFTER fishing season.

Turtles, Wet Weekend, Backyard Photography, Heavenly Bodies

It was, indeed, a wet weekend. We needed the rain, and we got quite a bit. Our weather guys, who keep up with stuff like that, say we need more, that there is a deficit. I'm not sure how much we got. Checking out the radar Saturday and Sunday showed some pretty intense stuff, at times. And, there was the steady, soaking rain, at least at our home. Good for the grass. And, the weeds. Yuchh. Good for the forest fires. The winds, unfortunately, were bad for a lot of crops in this part of the state.

Dancing around, now.

Robie, my wife, thinks that a turtle from her childhood has found her. After quite a few years. Might be a birthday gift from the past (she celebrated hers Sunday). The turtle has been hanging around our yard since we rescued it from the street a few months ago. Keeps coming back. Her dad, a retired marine captain, had brought a turtle home one day, back in the 1960's. They turned it loose, but the turtle, we think, keeps returning.

Nothing else to do but give it a name. She chose Mac, after her dad. Works for me. Mac really enjoyed the weekend. Lotsa rain, lotsa puddles. He paid no attention to our dogs. And, they just took a sniff or two, and let him be.

I've seen turtles all my life. Box turtles, in the woods where we played and later hunted and explored.

On logs along the creeks where we fish.

Always a curious and interesting creature, hiding out in their rugged shells, safe from most critters in the woods. You could buy tiny varieties in stores, those meant to be kept as pets, either in a box or in a waterless aquarium. Never did that. Just enjoyed them in the wild. As it was intended.

Mac makes for some interesting pictures. Sticking his head out to pose for the camera.

A little info on box turtles. There are six subspecies. Four are found in the United States, a couple more are down Mexico way.

Terrapene carolina triunguis (three-toed box turtle)
Terrapene carolina carolina (eastern box turtle)

Mac is likely one of these, though I haven't been able to count his toes, yet. I'll try that next time. I never thought about turtles having toes.

This is from the Smithsonian, National Zoological Park web site.

All T. carolina have a bilobed, hinged plastron that allows the box turtle to close its shell almost completely. They have a steep-margined, keeled, high-domed, rounded carapace with variable markings. Concentric growth furrows can be seen on the carapace, although in some older individuals they become very difficult to see. The upper jaw is slightly hooked. The toes are only slightly webbed.

Males are slightly larger on average than females, the posterior lobe of their plastron is concave, and the claws on their hind legs are short, thick, and curved. Males also have thicker and longer tails. Females' rear claws are longer, straighter, and more slender, and the posterior lobe of their plastron is flat or slightly convex. Males have red irises and females have yellowish-brown irises.

Environmental temperature determines activity rate. Preferred body temperature is between 84 and 100° F (37.8° C). In the heat of the summer, box turtles largely restrict their activity to mornings and after rain. When it gets too hot, they hide under decaying logs and leaves, crawl into mammal burrows, or into mud. When it is really hot, they go into shady pools and puddles to cool off. In the spring and fall, they may be out foraging during all daylight hours, and they sometimes bask in the sun to get warm. Box turtles are diurnal and scoop out a shallow indentation in which to spend the night.

In the northern regions, box turtles go into hibernation in October or November, but farther south they remain active later in the year. To hibernate, they burrow as far as two-feet deep into loose earth, mud, stream bottoms, old stump holes, or mammal burrows. They may return to the same place to hibernate in successive years and sometimes more than one turtle hibernates in the same hibernacula. They usually emerge from hibernation in April. They sometimes wake up and find a new hibernacula on warm days in the winter.

These turtles usually have a home range with a diameter of 750 feet (230 m) or less in which they normally stay. Occasionally, for unknown reasons, they journey out from their home range. Home ranges of different individuals overlap frequently, regardless of age or sex. The turtles are often found together and show no antagonism towards each other.

Exclusively North American, box turtles occupy the eastern United States ranging from southern Maine to Florida along the East Coast, and west to Michigan, Illinois, eastern Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas. Due to their popularity as household pets, box turtles are sometimes found far outside their normal geographic range.

Robie thinks Mac looks a little like that general cartoon character on the insurance commercial on TV when he retreats nto his shell.

She might have something there.

The moral of my story is...well, there really isn't one. Except, as I have said many times, one need not venture far from home to get to some pretty cool pictures. Open your eyes, and let your shutters do the walking.

A final pic, speaking of that, and it has nothing to do with turtles. Did you notice the moon Saturday night? In Jacksonville, it looked pretty bewitching as the clouds moved across our nearest heavenly neighbor.

Got Fresh Fish? How 'bout a sandwich?

I am not the biggest fan of sandwiches. Never was. Most have too much bread, too little good stuff, and are seldom more than a fill-me-up kind of thing. There are exceptions, of course. Like a good burger. One that you make yourself, or one from one of the few remaining restaurants that can make them look and taste like those you make yourself.

I do like a good fish sandwich. But, alas (always liked that word, often describing despair), where can you get a good one? With a bit of king mackerel from a wunnerful day on the high seas, I found myself in need of lunch. Time to try something a little different.

In the fridge, Robie (my wife) had a bottle of Thai Peanut Sauce. The label said it was a dressing or marinade. Marinade! Why not? I took a piece of the king filet, the part near the tail. Thinner than the big steak chunks. I rubbed a little of the sauce over both sides of the fish. Sprinkled it with Old Bay, salt, and pepper. And, I let it set for a spell while I got everything else ready.

Like I said, most sandwiches come in thick buns. And using sliced white bread just sucks. For almost everything. A few months back, I discovered flat, thin, WHEAT buns. Whole Grain Honey Wheat, it says. Called Sandwich Thins. And, only 100 calories.

Out came the well-used cookie sheet. Sprayed a little section with olive oil. Separted the bun into its two sections. Kicked oven on to 350. Added a pad of butter to each section of the bun. Into the oven it goes.

As the butter begins to melt, the non-stick frying pan comes out. Sprayed it with olive oil, and onto the burner, already on high. As soon as I see smoke, I drop the fish into the pan. It sears. Nicely. First on one side, then the other.

I cut back on the burner, back to mid-scale. Medium. Now comes the cool part. Oven changed from bake to broil. Door cracked. I always keep a jar of red onion sauce, aka New York Onions, on hand. The kind you buy at those little hot dog stands, where vendors set up outside businesses (like Lowes in Jacksonville). Good stuff on hot dogs, and great for all sorts of dishes. I poured a bit on top of the now-seared fish filet. A tablespoon or so of water added to the frying pan. Covered the pan with a glass lid. The fish will cook evenly through and through, without burning.

Watch the fish and bread closely. When the bun starts to toast, take it out of the oven. Fish needs about 2-3 minutes, long enough to cook until it's flaky. Add the cooked fish to the toasted bun, spread on some cocktail sauce, tartar sauce, or, in my case,both.

Absolutely yummy! A sandwich actually worth eating.