Potpourri Returns

It's been a long time since I did a "Potpourri" blog.  Here's a scattering of shots from the month of May.

This picture wasn't taken until May, but the house actually burned on April 30.  NO NO NO!  Not OUR house.  Sorry if I scared you.  This vacant house is as old or older than ours -- a century plus.  Our great neighbors, the Cleaver family, had lived here forever.  Almost.  The lonely chimney reminds me of

"Sherman's Sentinels," the trail of such images Sherman's marauding army left from Atlanta to Savannah in 1864.

Say "Hi" to Hunter.  He's multi-tasking: learning to drive while practicing his ABC's.  Now say "Bye."  You won't see him again until the next blog post, which will be ALL his.

Some of you saw this image of a Pandorus Sphinx moth which found refuge in our porch during a recent thunderstorm.  Its name combines two of my favorite Greek myths (now are you burning to look 'em up)?

On Memorial Day, my friend Ray and I did an old-fashioned singalong at Manor Care Health and Rehab.  My mascot Chipper always dresses appropriately for these functions.  And he is always very popular with the ladies.  I guess they haven't heard him sing. (Yeah, I'm just jealous).

Evan is a master at holding his own bottle (as is Hunter).  Which is interesting since neither Bri nor Claire ever did much of that.  Or needed to.  Seems somebody (who shall remain nameless, but my initials are . . .) was always grabbing those girls to hold 'em.  Anyway, nobody starves in our family.

Well, on a Tuesday, Judy and I just happened to have all four grandchildren together for a while.  Hunter was asleep and Jennifer snapped a few shots of the rest of us sharing a storytime.  Brianna gets to flip the flaps on the left side of the page.

Claire flips the flaps on the right side of the page.

And Evan seems to stoically accept that there are no other sides of a page for flaps to be flipped.  Oh, well.

Not all references to "wild life" are about grandchildren.

This is (we believe) a grosbeak, an iridescent blue bird with red-orange wing bars that we see occasionally at the feeder or bird bath.  Or strutting around in the driveway, acting suicidal.  Be careful, little birdie.

Them's the pics.  But I can't resist squeezing in a corny headline I detected in this week's Moore County Schools Newsletter:

Two Moore County Teachers

Named Kenan Fellows

Now, I'll admit that Kenan Fellows is not an everyday name.  And for TWO teachers to be named that is unusual.  But is it really newsworthy with all the local, state, national, and world news to report?  I think not.

What?  You say a Kenan Fellow is what?

Um . . . never mind.