Back to the Black-Hole Closet!


Early-autumn scenery yesterday on North Delaware Avenue at the waterfront in Philly.

‘Twas hot and sticky for the majority of the past week, but the furnace went on for the first time this evening since early last May. Autumn appears to have taken effect. What a relief it is that the torrid weather has subsided, cooling down in a hurry yesterday as a cold front moved into the area, chasing away whatever remnants of Tropical Storm Michael were left, sending him out to sea.

It’s cool to have a hurricane named after you, isn’t it? Yet, the devastation that followed its path was not.

Now the weatherman says frost may be likely overnight tonight. Instead of lounging around the apartment in skivvies and t-shirts, this weekly journalist is wearing his black hoodie over a polo shirt and gym pants, topped with an official Philadelphia Eagles cap. Go Birds!

The Yankees made it to the second round of the playoffs for the American League championship, eliminated by Boston, retiring both the team and my baseball cap for another season, sending the hat to the black-hole closet with my Phillies’ chapeau, and the Yanks back to the Bronx until next spring.


Two black eyes for me from this year’s baseball season!

The Cubs didn’t make it past the initial round or the wildcard playoff for the National League championship, beaten by Colorado, who in turn were knocked out of contention by Milwaukee. The Dodgers outlasted the Braves and are now tied with the Brewers at a game apiece for the league championship.

Houston beat Cincinnati in their series, and is playing the first game of the deciding series for the American League title tonight, leading Boston 2-0 in the bottom of the 4th inning at this point.

What, you say you don’t care for baseball? How dare you! OK, not everyone is into sports, so I’ll change the subject.

Getting back to talking about the weather then, I have to say a top-five favorite reason for liking the cool temperatures is the end of mosquitoes for another year. They killed me over the summer, along with poison ivy. I should buy stock in calamine lotion.

Went to Rancocas Nature Center in New Jersey on this past Tuesday, which was hot as July and August, my raising a massive sweat by just standing still in the humid marshland that comprises the Rancocas State Park, situated between two branches of the creek for which the woods are named. I had to leave not even an hour after arriving, from getting eaten alive metaphorically by the nasty, bloodthirsty nits, even while wearing bug repellent.


Mosquito, about to attack a cabbage white butterfly.

How bad were they? As the picture above shows, the giant, midge-like insects were so voracious, they even went after butterflies for their colorless blood.

By the way, the photo was a lucky shot. I couldn’t have gotten a picture of a mosquito if I were trying; however, such a multitude was around that one had been captured digitally, unbeknownst to me, during my short stay at the nature center.

Ever wonder why some people are never bothered by them, and others like myself are mosquito magnets? Having researched the Web for an answer to that, I found the following reasons for the vampire bugs’ enticement:

  • Carbon Dioxide from exhaled breath acts like a dinner bell for nearby mosquitoes, alerting them a tasty meal is nearby.
  • Sweat which contains lactic and uric acids attracts the buggers.
  • Type-O Blood seems to be the snack of choice compared to types A and B.
  • Dark skin and dark-colored clothes reportedly draw the nits like flies on…, well, you know what I mean. The reason is for the heat absorbed by the darker flesh and clothing, which is a mosquito turn-on.
  • Constant movement
  • Beer

Unfortunately for me, I fit the bill right down to my blood type. My big mouth spews out plenty of CO2, especially while hiking uphill. I wear dark-colored clothing usually. My skin is dark. Sweating is a typical and abundant occurrence in hot weather. While photographing, my movements fluctuate constantly and randomly. Lastly, I had a few beers on the night before.

At least I can now put away that bottle of Caladryl, store it in the black-hole closet with my baseball hats, mitt and ball until next spring.

Thanks for stopping by with your continued support. I need it.

Postscript: At the top of the 9th inning, Houston is blasting Boston—the home team—by a score of 7 to 2.

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Crazy Is the New Sane

What a crazy world we’re living in. What are some people thinking? Everyday it’s something else to make a mostly sane individual shake their head in disbelief.

A while back, an 18-year-old plunged to his death while taking a selfie at Yosemite National Park, falling hundreds of feet from atop the nearly 600-ft-high Nevada Falls in California.

Last month a Dallas police officer came home and walked into a wrong apartment, thinking it was hers, and killed the man who actually lived there, presuming the latter was an intruder.

A Rite Aid employee in Maryland arrived at work and shot six of her co-workers, three of whom died before the assailant shot herself and later died in the hospital. A witness said she was in a bad mood.

Earlier in the week, a commercial flight from Phoenix to Boston was diverted to Kansas City due to an unruly passenger who refused to stop doing pull-ups on the overhead bins. He appeared to be reportedly intoxicated, having ordered and consumed a few beers in flight

A stewardess asked the man allegedly three or four times to sit down, but he refused to quit until reaching his fitness goal. The belligerent person became verbally abusive, calling the woman names, at which point the flight was forced to land in Kansas City.

Law officials escorted the fitness fanatic off the plane, handing him over to FBI agents who were waiting at the gate. Charles Atlas, not his real name, was interviewed and released.

No charges were filed, which seems odd to me, considering the extra fuel, time, and inconvenience to customers who arrived at their final destination 90 minutes late from the KC diversion.  Seems no one gets in trouble anymore from drinking excess beer.



Speaking of fitness, I mentioned my acquiring a Fitbit in a previous post. The device is a no-frills smartwatch that keeps track of how many steps a wearer takes, distance traveled, calories burned, heartbeats per minute, and how well a person sleeps: duration of deep and light z’s, and how many times one is awaken.

All of this gets noted on a Bluetooth-connected smartphone that compiles all the data neatly into daily, weekly and monthly tabulations.

The only problem is the constant connection wipes out the phone’s battery, making daily recharges necessary, when I can go a few days normally on a full charge.

As the result, I’ve uninstalled the software from the smartphone, but continue to use the Fitbit just for the daily information stored while gallivanting about, not yet reaching my 24-hour goal of 7,000 steps, equivalent to roughly 3 miles or 4.8 kilometers.

However, I almost reached 6,000 at Sarobia (Neshaminy State Park in Eddington, Pa.) last Friday, the day before bow-hunting season for deer started, trampling around areas best to stay out of while archers are lurking about from now until mid-January of next year, with a month break in between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Hunting is not allow on Sunday, so at least once a week is worry-free from being shot by an arrow.

Anyway, what got me off on this tangent are Fitbits’ snitching on criminals, according to Rolling Stone Magazine. The lead-in to the story is about a woman who was found dead by a co-worker. The victim’s stepfather, while being questioned, stated he hadn’t seen her for five days since he stopped to visit for dropping off homemade pizza and biscotti.

The dead woman’s Fitbit had recorded her heart rate had spiked tremendously at about the time the stepfather claimed he was there, and then the beats stopped completely shortly thereafter, pinpointing and coinciding the exact time of death with her stepfather’s visit. Authorities charged the man ultimately with his stepdaughter’s murder.

The one I found most significant is the story about a man who was arrested for the murder of his girlfriend. His Fitbit showed he had been asleep at the time of the woman’s death, clearing him of the dastardly deed. Another suspect in the case had attempted initially to frame the boyfriend but ended up being the one found guilty of the murder, after data on the perpetrator’s smartphone determined he was at the scene of the crime when the woman was killed.

Not that I get into similar situations, but one never knows what the minds of demented people can conjure up to save their own hides. Perhaps I should re-install my Fitbit’s software back onto the smartphone, just in case. So what, if I have to charge the phone every day? That’s a lot better than facing time for something that’s not my doing.

So much for that. I can go on, but will save the absurdities for a future tirade. Thanks for stopping by, as always; and I appreciate your continued support.

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Redundancy 101

File:Quill (PSF) vector.svgLet’s take a look at redundancy in writing, shall we? One of the main rules formulated for scribing literature was to do so with the least amount of words. The reason was to minimize the cost for printing, which was prohibitive, especially in the early days of the printing press.

Prior to that, transcribing literary works by pen and ink took a long time, and excess wordage was eliminated to speed up the process. That’s when a good editor was worth his weight in gold.

Now, with word processors, infinite blogs and websites dedicated to instructing and entertaining the masses; self-publishing, and comments entered by know-it-alls after almost every article on the Internet that allows them, people are left to their own devices, sentence structures, grammar, spelling and punctuation. It’s horrible and destroying the English language.

How many times have I wanted to correct someone’s errors in relation to usage of the words: to, too, their, there, they’re, your and you’re, without seeming uppity, condescending, or belonging to the grammar police?

However, not everyone is a trained writer who was taught the fundamentals of the craft in college; or maybe they hated English class in high school and haven’t learned to watch out for making those mistakes. This triviality drives me nuts.

As an author who’s a neurotic too, not happy unless there is something to complain about, watching every one of their p’s and q’s in a tirade they’re about to publish in a weekly blog, I feel justified in pointing out your grammatical faux pas that you’re making habitually; so please be careful in the future. My sanity depends on it. Thanks in advance.

Getting back to redundancy, adverbs in many cases are unnecessary. Take, for instance, the following examples:

“I literally told him off.” Here the adverb “literally” is redundant. Why can’t the person just say, “I told them off”? I suppose the intent is for self-important emphasis.

“I personally know the mayor of our town.” This is another case of unnecessary usage. Just say, “I know the mayor,” and be done with it.

“I want to thank each and every one of you.” The preceding redundancy is a favorite pet peeve. Why use “each and every” together in the same sentence? Just one of them is enough.

“I honestly said, ‘Are you crazy?'” By their using the adverb honestly in this example makes me think that everything else that person says is a lie.

My ultimate complaint lately is from reading articles on the Net that quote tweets from Twitter. Everything is backed up by Social Media commentary nowadays. What bothers me is when the author explains the content of a tweet verbatim in the body of their essay, and then follows it up word-for-word by the actual tweet.

As an example of this, an article on Yahoo News wrote about the latest viral craze called, “Unicorn Toast.”

Unicorn toast is made by dyeing cream cheese using natural dyes such as beetroot and turmeric and then spreading artfully on toast. Its creator, Adeline Waugh, often tops it with sprinkles and sometimes gold leaf (pictured)

Quoting from the article featured on

Unicorn toast is made by dyeing cream cheese using natural dyes such as beetroot and turmeric and then spreading artfully on toast. Its creator, Adeline Waugh, often tops it with sprinkles and sometimes gold leaf.

The author wrote in her composition that a twitter user, @karnacan, tweeted, “Honestly, unicorn toast sounds like something you make for spoiled hell brats and I can’t abide by that.”

Then, her description was followed by the actual tweet:

What a waste of space and total redundancy. To me, the writer should have either just quoted the tweet without the graphic, or had written, “A Twitter user said,” and then use only the image for the quote.

I see this sort of thing all the time, even in Time magazine. Reporters get paid by the word for their articles. Maybe they do it to increase their word count. Who knows?

The word count for this week’s diatribe is well-over my 500-word quota, thus far sitting at 631; so, thanks for stopping in and for your continual support. (648)

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Happy Autumn Equinox


Autumn Foliage

Today’s the first day of fall. The full Harvest Moon approaches on Monday, and baseball season is giving way to the playoffs. The Phillies almost made it this year, but were eliminated by the Braves, who clinched the division unfortunately for Philadelphia fans. Once again, there’s always next season, or the season after next. etc.

The N.Y. Yankees clinched one of the two American League wildcards tonight. The National League wildcards are still up for grabs, as well as the remaining two National League division champs. Since Philly is out of it, and I don’t like Atlanta at all, I’m hoping for a World Series matchup between the Yanks and the Cubs, or a rematch of last year’s Fall Classic between Houston and L.A. We’ll see.

The weather has turned cooler, much to my relief. What a dreadfully hot summer it had been. Reports are stating that this year’s fall foliage is expected to be spectacular, based on the conditions we had last season. Looking forward to pulling out and putting on the old leather jacket, and photographing autumn’s forthcoming splendor.

An apartment building, which is in the next court north of my flat, had a horrible blaze on Thursday afternoon, destroying six apartments, injuring two firemen and one tenant. The other inhabitants of the scorched structure escaped unharmed, but lost everything in the inferno.

The fire started in the basement and spread rapidly straight up three floors. Fortunately, no fatalities occurred. The part effecting me is a shared gas line between both buildings, theirs and mine, which had been shut off and damaged during the event. As a result, I’ve been living without cooking gas, hot water and heat. Luckily it’s still warm out.

Took a very cold shower yesterday morning and today. As of this writing, we’re still without gas, so looks like tomorrow morning I’ll be turning blue for a third day in a row. Been using the microwave oven for cooking whatever I can. It doesn’t come out and taste the same as from the stove top. Ordered pizza for dinner tonight. Will probably go out to eat supper tomorrow.

The complex’s management office claims that PECO, our electric and gas company, has been working on restoring the service as soon as possible. That, to me, is like saying, “The check’s in the mail.”

By the way, speaking of checks I received the towing reimbursement finally from the Mini service center for the problem discussed in a previous tirade. Goes to show you, the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Also, I received a free smartwatch the other day in the post, sent for my responding to an e-mail purportedly from Amazon, for completing a survey about my experiences with their online services, even though I had to pay for shipping and handling, plus an extra charge for upgrading the color of the band.

After figuring out how to charge the device via USB, downloading an app onto my smartphone which connects to the watch via Bluetooth, I had to set up the functions to register how many steps I’ve taken during each day and how many calories I burn while doing so, the distance walked (or ran), how many heartbeats per minute, how long I’ve slept in either deep or light sleep, and how many times I’ve awoken.

The watch keeps the time and date too.

While entering my personal data, like age, weight, height and how many steps daily is my ultimate goal, I did an Internet search to find out how many steps per day is recommend for a healthy lifestyle, which claimed 10,000. However, the CDC recommends 7,000, which is what I inputted.

The first day’s total was from yesterday: 1,597 steps, .74 of a mile covered, and 90 kcal burned. Today’s tally so far is 1,255 steps and .58 miles, while having burned 71 kcal. I’ve got a long way to go for reaching my goal. That means I need to walk about 3 miles per day. Bwahahahaha!

I’m doing well with sleeping, however. Yesterday I slept 8 hours and 38 minutes: 3 hours and 19 minutes deeply, 4 hours and 37 minutes lightly, while 2 times awoken. Today’s session was for 6 hours and 52 minutes: 4 hours and 32 minutes deeply, 1 hour 21 minutes lightly, and awaken 4 times (drank a couple of beers before going to bed). The reports say my quality of sleep is excellent.

Well, that’s all for this week’s drivel. Thanks for stopping in to read this nonsense, and, as always, thanks for your continued support.

The Harvest Moon, both the tune and photography, was from last year in early-October. Music and singing was performed by yours truly, accompanied by the multi-talented Rie Waits.

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Joker’s Wild


How about some old quips for filling tonight’s sacrifice to the gods of the blogosphere? Being the lazy sort, I figured this was an easy way to fulfill the weekly obligatory rant and rave.

Taken from Comedy Corner, my old “you post it” joke site from years ago, the following buffoonery is meant to tickle your funny bone, and not intended to offend anyone.

Eighteen Tenets That Govern Everyday Life:

The Law of Volunteering
If you dance with a grizzly bear, you had better let him lead.

The Law of Avoiding Oversell
When putting cheese in a mousetrap, always leave room for the mouse.

The Law of Common Sense
Never accept a drink from a urologist.

The Law of Reality
Never get into fights with ugly people; they have nothing to lose.

The Law of Self-Sacrifice
When you starve with a tiger, the tiger starves last.

The Law of Motivation
Creativity is great, but plagiarism is faster.

Boob’s Law
You always find something in the last place you look.

Weiler’s Law
Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn’t have to do it himself.

Law of Probable Dispersal
Whatever hits the fan will not be evenly distributed.

Law of Volunteer Labor
People are always available for work in the past tense.

Conway’s Law
In any organization there is one person who knows what is going on. That person must be fired.

Iron Law of Distribution
Them that has, gets.

Law of Cybernetic Entomology
There is always one more bug.

Law of Drunkenness
You can’t fall off the floor.

Heller’s Law
The first myth of management is that it exists.

Osborne’s Law
Variables won’t; constants aren’t.

Main’s Law
For every action there is an equal and opposite government program.

Weinberg’s Second Law
If builders built buildings the way programmers wrote programs, then the first woodpecker that came along would have destroyed civilization.

A woman applied for a job in a Florida lemon grove and seemed way too qualified for the position. “Look Miss,” the foreman said. “Have you any actual experience in picking lemons?”

“Well, as a matter if fact, yes. I’ve been divorced three times.” (Insert rim shot)

Lastly, two guys were driving through Texas when they got pulled over by a state trooper. The officer walked up and tapped on the window with his nightstick. The driver lowered it and the cop smacked him in the head with the billy club.

“Why’d you do that?”

“You’re in Texas, Son. When I pull you over, you’re to have your license, registration and proof of insurance ready.”

“I’m sorry, officer; but I’m not from around here.”

The trooper ran a check on the man’s license, and found he was clean. After giving the driver his credentials back, the lawman walked around to the passenger side and tapped on that window, smacking the other guy with the nightstick once the pane was lowered.

“What did you do that for?” the driver’s friend said.

“Just making your wishes come true.”

The passenger looked dumbfounded. “Huh?” he said.

The trooper replied, “I just know that two miles down the road you were probably going to say, ‘I wish that sucker would’ve tried that crap with me!'” (You may groan here.)

Pardon my indolence for this entry, but sometimes I feel so uninspired. Thanks for your continued support. Enjoy your official last week of summer in the Northern Hemisphere. Likewise, for those in the Southern Hemisphere, I’m sure you’re looking forward to spring.

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A Strange Day Indeed, Most Peculiar, Mama!

Was at Lake Luxembourg on Wednesday, not a lucky place for me lately. It was on my way there at the end of July when the Cooper broke down, which caused me a bunch of grief and still is in an indirect way.

Before getting into this week’s tale of woe, allow me to rant some about my latest crusade. Seems I’ll have to be raising hell to get my reimbursement for the extraneous towing charges after the car broke down again, throwing a serpentine belt that had been replaced at the Mini dealer a few weeks prior.

It was a hot afternoon in early August when the dilemma occurred. Without the belt, the car began to overheat immediately, at which time I shut it down and coasted into a parking lot.

My head felt like it was about to explode as well. Calling the Mini service department, which had just closed for the day, I left a heated message on their answering service, explaining my frustration and demanding someone call me up in the morning to make arrangements to fix the car. My needing a tow into the shop was added to the voice mail, for which I made it clear I wasn’t going to pay for the charge.

One of the service representatives called back right after I had hung up in a huff. He said not to worry about the towing bill, and to arrange to have it brought in the following morning, which I did.

They repaired it at no-charge. On the service receipt, a notation about their issuing a check to cover the towing would be sent to me in the mail. Ha! Where have I heard that before?

It’s now a month later and no check yet. I texted my service rep. She replied about going to reach out to the dealer’s accounting department to find out why no payment had been sent. Yesterday, I texted back to ask what the status was and got no response.

So, Monday, I’ll go and pay them a visit. I’d hate to have to take the dealership to small-claims court over this.

Getting back to Lake Luxembourg, upon my arrival to a favorite spot, a fisherman was crouched down out of sight on the other side of Woodbourne Rd. Bridge, with just the top of his head visible.

Keeping the car running with the air-conditioner on in the meantime, putting the big lens on the camera, I noticed him looking over at me a couple of times before he stood up and walked over to begin an unintelligible tirade about why I was photographing him.

“I’m not doing anything of the sort,” I said, shutting off the engine and getting out of the car. “I come here all the time to photograph the birds and wildlife.”

The man then started to rant unintelligibly again, saying something about taking pictures of “stupid birds,” and not understanding why people do it. He stomped back to his spot and began to gather his fishing poles and gear, all while going off on another rave about birds and mumbling expletives, throwing the stuff in the back of his vehicle before hopping in, screeching his tires, making a u-turn, and roaring off in the other direction.

I was a bit paranoid that he might return with a gun or something crazy.

The resident bald eagles were a no-show again. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, and hope they’re still around. Got shots of the white egrets and blue herons that were hanging about instead.

A cormorant had been swimming close by since the time of the fisherman’s meltdown. I was able to get some nice shots with the big lens, and noticed something was stuck into its neck. Looking further at the photos, I determined it was a hook of some sort, attached to a small rope:


The poor bird looked up at me like it was hoping I could help him out, for which its sad eyes broke my heart.

No way could I have scaled the steep hill going down there alongside the bridge without killing myself.

The cormorant would have taken off probably anyway.

He made his way under the bridge to the other side of the lake.

While looking down, watching the critter swim off, I noticed a spider web with an arachnid planted in the center.

Leaning over the bridge’s railing, I took a few shots of the creepy crawler, as seen below:


Orb-weaving Spider

spider-Lake-Luxembourg-09-05-18-sA woman’s voice from off in the distance said, “Hey, are you all right?” I stood back upright and saw she was exiting an ambulance, walking across the road to where I was stationed.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“The way you were leaning over the bridge’s railing, I thought you were going to commit suicide by jumping in.” That cracked me up.

“Thanks for caring,” I said. She patted me on the shoulder and told me to be careful, heading back to her vehicle afterward.

“I was taking a few pictures of spiders,” I yelled over. “Want to see?”

“Ew, no way. I can’t stand them.” She smiled and drove off. Strange that someone who was an EMT couldn’t look at a measly spider.

I took some more photos of the lake’s avian wildlife. Spotted another cormorant on a log, standing there with two river cooters. It’s amazing how different species like that can get along. If a human approached them, they would all scatter in different directions.


Cormorant flanked by two river cooters in Lake Luxembourg

Still waiting for the eagles to show up, I noticed a male osprey was flying over from the opposite side of the lake. ‘Twas quite a surprise to see, as the majority of the raptors had left already on their trek south for the winter.


Male Osprey

With the bird heading straight towards me, I started shooting away, hoping to get some nice, close pictures when my camera’s shutter stopped operating, displaying an error message that read, “Release Shutter Button Again.” After pushing it about a hundred times to no avail, I packed up my stuff and headed to the camera-repair shop.

Just my luck the shutter-gear motor burned out. Cost for the repair was more than half the price of a new one, not to mention a three-week lead time, prompting me to purchase another camera online. I’m expecting it to arrive on Monday.

Maybe I should stay away from Lake Luxembourg for a while. Wednesday was certainly a strange day indeed.

At home and reviewing the photos taken that afternoon, especially while looking at that poor cormorant with the hook in its neck, made me think of that crazy fisherman. The bird wasn’t too far away from him when I looked down in the water while the wacko was performing his jeremiad.

Maybe he was the one who hooked that bird, I thought, unable to imagine what he would have done with it once captured. I wonder, what does cormorant meat taste like? Probably chicken. Shame on me for even thinking that.

Thanks for stopping by and reading this long-winded entry, if you made it to the end; and muchas gracias for your continued support.

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Miscellaneous Drivel


Inspection Stickers for 2018

The yearly state-inspection ritual for pushing the dastardly deed off for another month has been accomplished.

Last year, the Cooper went through the paces and was awarded new windshield stickers valid until August 31, 2018, as seen on the left. They expired at 23:59:59 Friday.




New inspection stickers for 2019

Today, on the 1st of September, I brought it in to my regular authorized station. The car passed with flying colors, except for a faulty rear windshield-wiper blade.

Mike the mechanic replaced it. Hey, he should be the lead man in a rock-“n”-roll band, don’t you think?

So the car is good to go for another year until 30 September 2019, at which point I’ll push off bringing it in for inspection until October 1st, in order to procrastinate for another extra month.

Incidentally, I received an additional calculator in the mail today. This one is built into a checkbook holder, complete with a pen.

A yearly planner for 2018-19 with an extra pen was included. I really wish charities would stop sending me these things!


Number one, I don’t use calculators when figuring out my checkbook balances.

I prefer to exercise my mind while doing the simple arithmetic involved. I’ve read that it’s important to quiz one’s intellect to ward off Alzheimer’s Disease.

Number two, any planning that needs to be noted is done so on my personal computer’s calendar, which copies itself to my smartphone. All these trinkets sent to me are extraneous garbage, and should end up where they belong.

OK, I’ll probably send that organization something when I do my bills on the 25th. They really know how to make a person feel guilty.

Like with the last calculator I received and placed on the junk shelf, the respective charitable association sent me a letter yesterday, asking if I received the device along with their check for $2.50; and that was written on the outside of the envelop for everyone at the post office and the mailman to see. The blatant correspondence is now sitting in the pile of junk mail to be sorted also on the 25th.

Some good news arrived for me this past week. I had entered a summer-season photo contest sponsored by the Delaware River Basin Commission, and was notified by the nice communications specialist for the governmental organization, informing me via e-mail I had won. What a surprise. I had forgotten all about it.

Here’s the link for the press release issued, in case you might be interested:

Here’s the photo that won:


Click on the above image to view the full-size photo.

That’s the second photo contest I’ve won this year. The other was from Riverfront North’s monthly affair. Here’s the link with their announcement for that one:

This was the photo that won:


Please click on the image above for the full-size photo.

Thanks for allowing me to boast a bit, as most everyone does on Social Media when they’ve accomplished something—or even when they hadn’t—and as always, thanks for your continued support. Enjoy the rest of your Labor Day Weekend.


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