Never forget that the freedoms we enjoy were paid for in blood. The founders pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their honour to establish them and young men died to keep them.
Never forget that freedoms are hard to maintain, and we must be vigilant and avoid external and internal enemies. Freedom must be maintained not only at the borders but at the ballot box. That corruption is insidious, and might be more dangerous than a blustering demagogue. It is also worth remembering that the worst devils have the fairest faces and the most seductive voices.
Never forget that there are many symbols on the gravestones, and many skin colours of the people underneath them but blood is always red.
Never forget that there are men still on duty, from the jungles of southeast Asia to the beaches of Normandy, from Bellau Wood to the Coral Sea.
White Coat on how your words affect other people, even ones you don’t think will be meaninguful. How important, then, is that filter between your brain and your mouth.
It’s Friday, so it’s time for SAPPY CAT BLOGGING! I’ve been attending depositions, giving depositions, or reading depositions all bloody week–not that I don’t appreciate the work, goodness knows, but it’s been a beautiful week, sunny and warm, and I’ve been sitting in conference rooms and in front of computers wearing a tie for too long.
But I did stop by the Cleveland APL this week. Their cats are HERE: They are also having a 2 for 1 deal on cats over 5 months, I mention.
Today, as part of a Cleveland Bucket List event, a bunch of us got to go up into the Greenbriar Suite on the tenth floor of the Terminal Tower. This was the Van Swerengen brother’s private apartments, with many fireplaces, leaded glass windows, Chinese painted wallpaper, English walnut paneling, and a Tudor great hall that, well, looked like a Tudor great hall. It must have been really impressive when the Terminal Tower was the tallest building outside of New York, and it was a great little hide-away even today, with wonderful views.
It is also where the falcons have their nest box–they are right in front of the dining room. We got the chance to look out at the fledglings on the nest, and they’re getting big, with the permanent feathers coming through their baby down and, they’re practicing flapping. Some of us tried to open the windows that were right near the nest box, but adult falcon had other ideas about that, and wasn’t shy about letting us know it.
Just goes to show if momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.
So there I was, driving along by the coroner’s office, when I noticed a turkey vulture. Sometimes they circle around the coroner’s office in the afternoons, catching a thermal, which kind of bothers me, when you think about it too much. This one wasn’t flying, though, he was being dive-bombed by a little, black, bird (I think a redwing blackbird, but I’m not sure. Could have been a starling). A nice example of mobbing behaviour, (though with only one bird I’m not sure it was a mob). An interesting site, and one that brought the vulture a whole lot lower than usual, as it tried to escape flying along the Red Line tracks eastwards.
My rhubarb came back, and it flowered. Which is better than the other plant, which curled up and died. I’d never seen a rhubarb flower, they look like this (image from Wiki):
And the marching band is out on the oval again. Signs of spring.
The third story, from Calvin’s Mom. Poor woman. The visual of the cat in the car seat was priceless.
Look–I’m down with iconoclasm, I can see where artists might wish to avoid depicting the human form following the theory that man was made in the image of the divine, and one wishes to avoid the depicting the divine because people might worship the image instead of the divine itself. This whole point seems a trifle silly with the advent of photographic technology, and downright ludicrous with the invention of movies and TV–if in 2010, one cannot tell the difference between an image and the real thing, there’s a major problem. Indeed some of the repeating patterns that are seen are really quite attractive. I can see parallels on the decoration of the Taj Mahal with Celtic decorations–again, the repeating patterns.
I do not wish to have the rules of a religion that I do not follow imposed on me, and in return I will not attempt to oppose the rules of my religion upon you. Got it? And any person who uses religion as an excuse for bigotry, violence, and intimidation is looking for something to take offense at…. feel free to write my name on your list, for I am your enemy. More here.
Driving by Green Lake–I wonder when the herons will come back?
Well, there’s one And there’s one…Look, there’s a third one on that log…And another one.
I guess they came back.
Oh, my. I’ve been trying to get a butterfly garden established for years now. I’ve bought the flower mixes and broadcast them. Nada. Then the basement needed to be waterproofed, and after a crew of Bosnians with a backhoe got through with it–all was gone.
But last year, in the back, I planted a hyssop plant and a someone gave me a couple of monardas. I got milkweed pods from South Chagrin and planted some seeds. The bee balm is back in a clump, so is the hyssop, and there are about half a dozen milkweeds now, behind the garden bench.
This is a good thing. The bumbles like them, other bees like them, and hopefully the butterflies will find them. I like pollenators.