‘IN CRIMSON PAJAMAS’

LAKE HURON MEETS BOINKER BEACH JUST NORTH OF GRAND BEND ONTARIO

With my new prescribed 'sleep aid' I am waking earlier now & once again enjoying each days quiet pre-dawn hours.  I do not even have to get out of my recliner to open our patio door right beside my chair with a stick.  Once open I so much enjoy listening to the tweeting sounds of nearby birds in our many trees.  Soft low tuned music on the stereo and a little Pheeber Buns asleep on my lap.  Pretty darn nice way to start the day I'd say.

IF A FELLER GOT UP ENOUGH SPEED HE COULD LAUNCH HIMSELF OFF THE ROAD UP AHEAD AND DROP ABOUT 75 FEET RIGHT INTO LAKE HURON….THIS IS BOINKER BEACH

LOOKING SOUTH-WEST ALONG LAKE HURON

OUR DESTINATION THIS MORNING WAS THAT FAR AWAY SHORELINE WHITE BUILDING’S PARKING LOT IN GRAND BEND

Taking full advantage of our temporary change of routine this week Pheebs & I were again out the door before 7 this time heading south to Grand Bend Ontario to have us a look at something I have seen under construction on one of the live Grand Bend web cams.  

LAKE HURON WATERS WERE JUST ABOUT AS SMOOTH AS GLASS ALONG GRAND BEND’S PIER THIS MORNING

THIS SERIES OF PHOTOS REMIND ME OF OTIS READINGS SONG SITTIN ON THE DOCK OF THE BAY 

A GREAT BLUE HERON FISHES FOR MINNOWS ALONG THE SHORELINE

FROM THE PIER LOOKING NORTH ALONG GRAND BEND’S POPULAR WITH THE YOUNG CROWD BEACH

FISHING BOAT AT AHCHOR NEAR THE HARBOR MOUTH

And sure enough it is exactly what I thought it was.  Called the ‘Rotary Community Stage’ I’m guessing it’s sponsored by the areas Rotary Club and will be used for music concerts & any other events deemed suitable.  Just yards away from where this stage is being built there once stood a large dance hall which in it’s day featured many Big Band orchestras including Guy Lombardo.  I remember that building & being inside it one time.  Think it burned down back in the early 60’s sometime. 

THE STAGE IS BEING BUILT RIGHT BEHIND THIS SIGN

AT THE BACK OF THE STAGE LOOKING TOWARDS LAKE HURON TO THE WEST

FRONT OF THE STAGE WILL BE BETWEEN THOSE TWO PILLARS

THE STAGE JUST NEEDS IT’S ROOF PUT ON NOW

THAT LARGE CONDO BUILDING ON THE BEACH IS THE SAME WHITE BUILDING WHICH COULD BE SEEN IN AN EARLIER FAR AWAY PHOTO FROM BOINKER BEACH

EVEN THE SHADOW COWBOY MANAGED TO SQUEAK HIMSELF INTO THIS PHOTO

Grand Bend has done a marvelous job over the past 5 years or so on the complete restructuring of their well renowned beach & I have memories of there going back into the early 60’s.  Some good:))  Some not so good:((

GRAND BEND DID ONE MIGHTY FINE JOB OF RE-CONSTRUCTING THEIR BEACH ……UST A FEW YEARS AGO NONE OF WHAT YOU SEE WAS HERE EXCEPT SAND & WATER…..CHECK OUT ALL THE FOOT PRINTS IN THE SAND

THIS IS ONLY PART OF A GREAT PLAY AREA FOR YOUNG CHILDREN

THIS UNDULATING ROOF LINE FITS NICELY WITH LAKE HURONS WAVES

MAIN STREET GRAND BEND TO THE LEFT LEADS UP FROM THE BEACH

I try to stay away from using the word perfect but this morning was just about as close to perfect as perfect can get.  Warm but not hot with clear sunny skies & a touch of lite clouds.  With an early June breeze blowing it was one of those special mornings that made me feel good inside.

Pheebs & I wandered the always scenic country roads back to Bayfield & were home before 9:30.  With everything growing so fast this time of year it was time to catch up on some yard work.  Have to admit our place sure looks nice when the gardens, shrubs & trees all finally fill in.  It’s like living in a jungle and we both like that. 

SOME FARM MACHINERY ALONG THE WAY

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS PIECE OF MACHINER IS

Kelly’s having herself quite a blast over there at her Mom’s place in Spencerport NY;  Below is a couple photos.

 

HERE’S KELLY WITH 120 COOKIES THEY MADE WITH HER MOM’S OLD ANTIQUE KITCHENAID MIXER

AND HERE’S KELLY TODAY WITH HER MOM & 2 SISTERS, BECKY ON THE LEFT & KATHY IN THE CENTER……THEY ARE AT THEIR FAVORITE SPOT, HURD ORCHARDS IN HOLLEY, NY

I'm going to try deleting all the spam in the Shout Box as it comes in but if it continues to get worse which I suspect it will then I will have no choice but to cancel the Shout Box altogether.  Kelly already checked & there is no way of stopping it.  I’ll give it a few more days.  It's so unfortunate there has to be the type of 'money' driven people in the world who will do anything to line their pockets at the expense of common decency, respect, consideration, and the simple well being of their fellow human beings.  These types of people have been with us since the dawn of time and will still be with us to the end of time.

Tonight in AL’s Scratchings (after Groaner’s Corner) is a poem I wrote in 1969.  It has to do with an old Ogre, a group of Children, a Sand Man, a cast of other characters including the Moon and it takes place in an old bog.  The poem tells a story from beginning to end so you might want to have a look at what Tommy, Rosemary and Meed were actually chosen to lead:))

OUR SUNBURST LOCUST TREE OUTSIDE THE SUNROOM WINDOW

GROANER’S CORNER:(( “My wife is a Mensa member and a seamstress - she's a clever sew and sew.”

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AL’s Old Scratchings….. ‘In Crimson Pajamas’

In Crimson Pajamas and lily white feet
The children come toddling out into the street
Peaches were plump apples were found
Soon would be time for the mystical sound

Chestnuts were roastin corn was a-poppin
And round the fire watermelons were hoppin
Sitting on a log was Old Daddy Frog
Listening to sounds drifting up from the bog

High overhead in the frosty night air
The old Harvest Moon chuckled with flair
All was ready and bubbling with sound
But alas little Jimmy was nowhere around

The children were worried the animals too
It wasn't something little Jimmy would do
Stars twinkled down on the scene far below
But the rosy red faces were no longer aglow
 

Something was odd and strange in the night
Something was coming that wasn't quite right 
The Pumpkins they froze and stood very still
An eerie sound echoed from the old Grist Mill

 

Fish in the brook huddled in fear.
Little white mice knew trouble was near
Then as if on a signal the fire went out
leaving the children all staring about

 
The old rusty Moon slunk behind a dark cloud
Just as a mist rolled in like a shroud
Fun was over the playing too
As creatures all scampered for places they knew

 
Only the children were left along in the night
Standing in terror, horror and fright
Then soon something appeared out of the fog
walking along slowly up from the bog

 
Covered in water, clay and slime
The children knew that it was the time
Relighting the fire with vigor anew
They gathered together for now they knew

It was the man they saw in their dreams
The man who rode on midnight Moonbeams
The man who dusted their eyes with sand
Moving ever quickly throughout the land

All the children ran down to aid the Old Man
Helping him along and lending a hand
They sat him down near the warm glowing fire
Removing his coat, clay, slime & mire

Finally he spoke in slow broken tones
Telling the children to go back to their homes.
There was nothing could be done to help Jimmy now
It was beyond his powers and he didn't know how.

The evil old Ogre had seized him that day
And carried him off to lands far away
The old Man of the Sand paused and went on
To tell the children how he had gone
Following the Ogre through inky black places
Through jungle swamp and wide open spaces

The children listened and not a word was spoken
Until a twig snapped and the silence was broken
The animals were back having heard it all
And the Moon came out from behind it's shawl

They gathered around and quickly agreed all and one
That before the next night something must be done
They huddled in closer to the kindly old man
and listened with intent to his unravelling plan

First they'd go home and sleep till morn
Then all meet again dressed good and warm
So scampering away they all jumped in bed
Never forgetting what the Sand Man had said

Night ticked by and gave way to the Sun
The children were up for there was work to be done
Tommy Billy Rosemary and Meed
Were the first four children chosen to lead

Off they started for the land of fear
Running along swiftly with the forest Deer
Following the trail through inky black places
through jungle swamp and wide open spaces

Onward they pushed not stopping to rest
Until at last they had reached a crest
The Sand Man stepped up and pointed ahead
To an old hidden cave near a river bed

It was here he thought the Ogre might be
But the children weren't quite as certain as he
So down the bank they went one and all
Each one trying hard not to fall

Approaching the cave they knew at a glance
That Jimmy was there and still had a chance
So squatting down around the mouth of the cave
The children began to sing and to wave.

Many songs poured forth in happiness and cheer
For the children knew the Ogre was near
And there was one thing they knew the Ogre couldn't stand
And that was songs of happiness from the far away land

The Ogre rushed out in a blustering rage
Jumping about fiercely like a Tiger in a cage
Round and round and round he did run
Trying to escape the children's fun

But the children sang louder louder and louder
Until the old Ogre dissolved in powder.
A joyous shout went up all around
For this was the day little Jimmy was found.

And in Crimson Pajamas and lily white feet
The children went toddling back into the street

 

Allan R. Bossence:))

DRIFTING UP FROM THE BOG

TIME WAS HERE BUT NOW IT’S GONE

ALWAYS LOVE SEEING CORN ROW PATTERNS

Cool enough overnight for me to put on a T-shirt & crawl back into my flannel jammies again but that's Okay I like it that way.  No idea why my day started at 3:30 a.m. but I popped out of my chair like an exploding firecracker I did and by noon had the most mightiest big yawns going on of ever.  Every big yawn sucked in so much air I almost swallowed the living room curtains.

CORN STALKS ARE GROWING QUICKLY & GREENING UP NICELY

Pheebs and I were out the door shortly after 7 dressed in warm duds to thwart off a cool brisk East wind.  Definitely no airborne bugs on our Hullett Marsh walk or any of the half dozen roadside stops we made after that.  Despite cool winds in the treetops it was still a mighty fine morning we had going on here & by 10 I was back into short sleeves.

JUST AN ALL ROUND DARN NICE LOOKING MORNING IN THE MARSH

A STRONG EAST WIND LEANS THE TREES WESTWARD

DOGGY IN LONG GRASS

 

Bruce rolled in around 4 and resumed work on the bedroom gas pipe box and furnace door panel.  He sure does good work that fella.  He’s very laid back and has the patience of a Saint.  I got the patience of half a Gnat and some days not even half of that.

TWO OLD STUMPS ARGUING IN THE SWAMP

A MARSH POODLE >>>>>>>

I have a question for Open Live Writer users.  How & where can I change the spacing between lines.  The way I am set up now it seems every time I hit the space bar it double spaces me.  I’m wanting it to only single space my lines.  Even when I type something in Hotmail using single spacing then paste it into my blog it still comes out double spaced.  I need to single space my stuff in ‘AL’s Scratchings’.

HERE A SMALL LUSH ROADSIDE CREEK SPLITS A CORNFIELD IN HALF

I have purposely left Tuesday's overnight obvious spam comments in the Shout Box for now so readers can see what spam looks like.  Notice the obvious poor grammar which is typical.  Do not click on any of these people's names because I suspect they are not real people but machine driven.  Hardly any of those spams refer to anything specific in my posts & that as well is typical of spamming machines.  So here now is my dilemma.  Do I cancel my Shout Box altogether or each time I see what I feel is spam just delete it.  Risk there is leaving the door wide open for a deluge of spammers & accidentally deleting legitimate reader comments.  Any thoughts??

FIRST CUTTING OF HAY FOR THE SEASON

THIS NEW MOWN HAY JUST SMELLED SOOOOOO NICE STANDING HERE

NEVER SAW THIS BRAND OF TRACTOR BEFORE

OUT SPREADING SOME OF THAT SWEET SMELLING MANURE SAUCE AROUND THE FIELD

MY  LITTLE PAL AWLAYS WAITS SO PATIENTLY FOR ME WHILE I HOP OUT TO TAKE A FEW QUICK PHOTOS

Reading Donna's post from Cave Dwellings this morning I was prompted to leave a comment when she asked, “Is blogging passe’?” “Is blogging being replaced by Facebook, Facetime, Google +, and the many other forms of social media”??  “I have a few blog friends who are on Word Press…and they seem to have many more people interested in blogging”…….In my response to Donna's question I mentioned that I have thought of switching to Word Press half a dozen times but just don't have the patience for the learning curve. I have pretty much lost touch with any fellow Bloggers who have hopped over to other social media sites like Facebook or Google+. I don't care for either one of them & much prefer the regular blogging format. In this newer age now of mobile & instant this & that it seems meaningful substance is sacrificed for the sake of speed & countless unending bantering mind numbing pointless twatter. Tweet your feet this, next text that, insta-groan something else. In my opinion it's a good thing a few of we old Dinosaurs still have our clunky aging keyboarding feet on the ground.  Whatever happened to the power of thinking and thoughtful substance I wonder.  Don't ask me, I've gotta go pull another Eucalypts leaf off the tree.

STILL A FEW DANDELIONS AROUND & THIS ONE COMES COMPLETE WITH AN ANT

GROANER’S CORNER:(( A couple of rednecks went on vacation in Colorado. They flew to Denver and rented a car to sight see. One of the sights was a bridge that was more than 1,000 feet above the river. Walking out onto the bridge, they noticed it swaying in the wind.  "I don't think I want to drive the car across this bridge," one said to the other.  "What are you worried about"? the second replied. "It's a rental."

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‘AL’s Old Scratchings’……… I wrote this piece late one night years ago sitting alone in the rough & tumble ‘Station Hotel’ in downtown Kitchener Ontario.  I call it………'Old Men’

Aging lines wreak havoc with his face.  A shabby coat a tattered smock.  His clothes tell me who he is.  He drinks in solitude saying nothing.  He doesn’t smile.  I am afraid.

Two old men shake hands.  One carries a blackened cane.  Long woolen overcoats musty thread bare shirts.  Who are they, when did they come.  A man has stopped singing.  He’s quiet now.  Who is he, was it hard back then.

I buy the man at my table a drink.  He says thanks.  We go on in silence.  I try again.  Nothing.  I am afraid. 

I see an empty chair.  It waits.  I wait.  We are all waiting.  The chair is filled.  For it the waiting is over.  For me I am still afraid.  Time was here but now it’s gone.