Dear Pre-Teen Girl on my Flight to Miami,

1.) Just because you aren't sitting next to your dad, doesn't mean you can treat your airplane seat like a tiny rave. I have rarely seen a child over the age of 10 bounce and bop around in their seat like a Mexican jumping bean, and I feel that you're getting a bit too old for that. Also, if you spill your soda on me, the gloves are coming off.


2.) When your pre-teen friend/seat companion tells you that you're being annoying, she isn't being cheeky or cute. You are being annoying. To people of ALL ages.


3.) It's rude to make comments on how many text messages people (ie: me) are getting when I can turn my phone on again.


4.) You really shouldn't touch people you don't know. Personal space, child. Personal. Space.


5.) Repeatedly shouting "excuse me" in the face of the (sleeping) person on the aisle seat simply because you have to go ask your dad a question about where you're gonna eat when you get off the plane is rude. Seriously rude. You should be caged and fed bananas.


And the moral of the story is, you should sit next to your children on the plane. I would've gladly given up my seat so this dad could've sat with his obnoxious child. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if he was avoiding her too....

Sunny Side Up

Due to the extreme heat, my sister decided to see if she could fry an egg outside. She lives in the middle of nowhere, so instead of a sidewalk, she chose to fry her egg on a random slab of metal lying in the driveway.

For her assistant, she chose the lovely Emily, of the Portsmouth Bassons (Portsmouth as in England).

An egg was chosen. The proposed cooking area was sprayed with Pam. The egg was cracked and exposed to the heat (about 112 degrees).  

As you will see from the photos at the end. The egg didn't cook very well. It kind of got hard and crusty. Eventually it had to be hosed off the metal slab/pan.

What went wrong, you may ask? Perhaps it was the slab/pan being exposed to the heat for too many days in a row; or maybe a random piece of metal doesn't make the best frying pan (take note: outdoor survival people). Or perhaps scrambled eggs would work better? Either way, here's hoping that it's never  so hot that we feel the need to try this again.

(Emily mans the spatula)

(ew)

Workdays

You will never believe what the conductor said to me today on the train home.

As we were all filing off the train and onto the platform, the conductor (who is a different guy than my regular conductor), was bidding us all a good evening. Except, he wasn't saying things like "Have a good evening" or "see ya!" like my normal conductor does. Instead, this guy said, "See you tomorrow. Same bat time. Same bat channel."

By the time his words registered in my tired brain, I was halfway down the platform, and I smiled to myself. I guess we all have our things to get through the day, but I'm glad this conductor shared his with us commuters.

Hank Update

Hank has learned to tap dance. No, you didn't read that wrong. And if you doubt it, then I shake my head in disbelief at you. I know he's just a bird, but he's in that cage all day long. He has to come up with some way to pass the time, right? 


Well, while I was in the UK a couple of months ago, Hank crashed (no pun intended) at my parents' house and hung out with their cockatiel Byrd. They spent most of their time in the spare room singing and chirping at each other; or, in reality, Hank drove Byrd nuts because Byrd is elderly, and Hank is loud. For most of the visit, Byrd's cage was sitting on a small side table, and Hank's was on the floor below it. In order to sufficiently chat with his friend, Hank had to climb up on top of his extra water dish; this made him level with the bottom of Byrd's cage. 


While he was on this water dish, his claws (or should I say "talons" to make him sound more masculine and imposing?) tap-tap-tap on the water dish shield. He seemed to like this, and even though I thought he would stop when I brought him home, he still does it. When Hank needs extra attention, he just hops up there and gives a few taps. 


Makes me wonder what he does when I'm not home....

(His foot is poised to move)

(Fred Astaire might be proud)

Maybe I could put him on one of those Star Search for pets programs....I think Hank craves the limelight.

100th Post

I actually think this is my 101st post, but let's just call it 100. Could we? Do you mind? I mean, isn't it bad enough that it's the middle of the week in July, and I'm not relaxing on a beach somewhere? 

So 100 posts. I've probably talked a little more about my cockatiel Hank than you may have liked, but at least I haven't done anything like pull out the baby photos, right? Or have I? If I have, then please accept my apologies. And if I haven't, then thank your lucky stars that I don't have a scanner.

These photos were from a shop window on State Street in Media, PA. I don't remember the name of the shop, but as I walked by it late one night with a friend, I remember feeling that the display made me believe that spring had come at last. And I was so happy that winter was finally over. 

I'm still happy that winter is over; heat advisory be damned!

Cheerio, Harry. It's Been Swell.

Saturday brought us the last Harry Potter. I know technically it was released on Friday, but I didn't attempt to see it until Saturday. There are two reasons for this: 1.) I wanted to avoid herds of children and 2.) Saturday is the day that my brother's girlfriend Morgan invited me. I went with the two of them and my sister. 


Because it was the last Harry Potter film, something bigger and different must be done. After all, when the last book was released, I didn't feel like we could celebrate that as a group. Reading it was a solitary experience for me, and I wanted it that way. But the film! THAT we could have fun with. 


We four went to the Imax theatre at the Franklin Institute, which, to say the least, scared the crap out of me.  I didn't know that the seats were going to be positioned so steeply...I think my sister said that we were actually sitting at a height equivalent to a four story building.


Have I mentioned my fear of heights? Is it evident in this photo?

Besides he height and the 3-D magic, I sort of felt like I was sitting in an egg. The theatre was domed, and everything had this greenish tint to it. You could tell the screen itself was white, but everything else was completely thrown off by the lack of bright lighting. It was super different from the regular theatre. 

(Even the Budd is weirded out)

I'm glad we did it that way, though. It made me feel like I was in a "Cinema of the Future!" You know, like some scientist's projection of how people of the future will watch films....


Cheerio, Harry!

(sisters)

Proud to be Orange

I know it's a little late (especially for N. Ireland), but Happy Orangeman's Day/The Twelfth!

I wore my orange today. :-)

I wonder if things at old Paddy's Barn were rocking....from the look of things, they're orange all the time!

(Paddy's Barn & Pub)

Tags

When I was a kid, my mom made a lot of my clothes. She mostly did it because she loves to sew, but her talents also came in handy as I was a freakishly tall child who couldn't find longer dresses. Anyway, my mom had these sweet little tags that she'd sew into the collars of my dresses and tops, and I loved them. They were a deep red on a white background, and the font was very elegant. I always thought they made my mom's creations very professional-looking.


Since I've been knitting a lot of baby blankets, etc, I started to think about using these labels myself. I tried looking at a few fabric shops, but all they had were tags that said, "Handmade by _____." I wasn't interested in these at all since handwriting would definitely fade. So I went over to Etsy...this site is quickly becoming my go-to for anything and everything handmade or one-of-a-kind (sort of like what AbeBooks is doing for my literary needs)


After a brief search, I found these personalized tags made by Remember Wynn. They're lasered onto the tags (which creates a lovely effect), and the shop owner is really nice and easy to work with. They came much quicker than I expected too (this seems to be a trend with almost everyone I encounter on Etsy).


Here they are. I'm super happy with them. :-) And I can't wait to use them so I can get some more...I'm thinking light blue next time.

Creativity

Because I enjoy the weirdness that the world has to offer, I like to photograph the things I see that make me laugh. Sometimes this is not possible or safe (read: weird people on the street who could also be dangerous/unstable), but signs are usually a good bet. The sign below was just such a case.


As my wee cousin Ethan would say, "That's silly." Oh Ethan, you are more right than you know.

(captured in South Jersey)

Sadly, this establishment was no longer in business. Otherwise we would've stopped and you would've had to look at several other related photographs and suffer through "weiner" type jokes. (I am not ashamed of my stunted sense of humour, and neither, might I add, were the Monty Python guys.) 


Along those lines, I dare you to try and say the name of this establishment without trying to affect either a New York or an Arnold Swartzenegger-type accent. Either one works.

The Birthdays Continue

It just wouldn't be summer without the annual trip to see the Grandparents Porter--and all the aunts, uncles, and cousins that pop over to the house on Brigantine Lane. Most  summers we don't need an excuse to visit, but in 2011, we drove many hours on the New Jersey Turnpike to celebrate Grandpop Porter's 85th Birthday.


Yes, 85th. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a "Happy 85th Birthday" card? Surprisingly harder than it is to find a "Happy 90th Birthday" card.

(Morgan wins the Get to Know You Bingo)

(Practicing not falling in the lagoon)

Not only was there plenty of cake...

...but Aunt Nan and Kelly and created t-shirts with the birthday boy's face for everyone to wear:

(Sister and myself)

As the sun began to set on a full day of partying, a few of the cousins took a walk to the beach (we were really just trying to walk off dinner so we could go back and eat and drink some more. The sea air is perfect for stimulating our appetites).

(Brick Beach)

(Just because the sun is setting doesn't mean the party's over)

(The Party's Here)

And because no party is a proper party without some kind of sparklers, my dad was forward thinking enough to bring some along. 

(Emily and Myself)

(Ceremonial Lighting of the Sparklers)

Here's to 85 more birthdays at the Porters! If anyone can live 170 years, we want it to be Grandpop (and Granny) Porter!! :-)

Greenery Round the Neighbourhood

I have a theory that most of the greenery in the city of Philadelphia is put together by the retired community. They have the time, they've most likely travelled around and gotten tons of ideas, and they are more likely to own their backyard space than those of us who are still paying off our student loans.


Case in point: this lattice work in Society Hill. Who has the time or the patience to put something like this together? Someone dedicated, that's who. 

Also spotted was this pear tree. The wee branches had been arranged and fastened to the wall to make this design.

All of this greenery just added to the ambiance of Lawrence Court. Window boxes overflowing with colorful flowers and small shrubbery give off the air of a smaller Pennsylvania town instead of the city. I'm sure all the trees really help to drown out the noise of the city buses and traffic. Walking around this area, I was amazed at how quiet and peaceful it was. 

(Lawrence Court: where we found the pear tree)

(wee parking lot outside the Jewish Synagogue)