Tag Archives: yeti

Rotten radishes DO smell worse than a yeti who’s played in the mud for half the day.

Egg on my face. I asserted the yeti would smell worse.

It’s time for a cocktail! Paperwork be damned! Leak in the Vivarium be damned! Muddy yeti running through the Parlor…someone needs to clean that up, actually.

How did you spend this Memorial Day, oddlings?

Bubo and I took a stroll through The Green-Wood Cemetery, paying our respects to the soldiers who have fallen in their service.

We missed the annual concert the cemetery hosts each year, but we had a lovely and contemplative walk.

Memorial Day was originally called Decoration Day and there are over two dozen towns and cities across the United States claiming the title “birthplace of Memorial Day”. The tradition could have started in the South before the end fo the Civil War; organized women’s groups were decorating the graves of soldiers who had died in the bloody battles even then. Waterloo, New York was officially declared the birthplace of Memorial Day in 1966 by President Lyndon B. Johnson but it’s rather difficult to prove an exact date or origin. And, honestly, does it matter? The important thing is that countrymen and women remember their fellow countrymen and women who died in military service.

The National Moment of Remembrance resolution was passed in December of 2000 and asks that all Americans observe a moment of respect and remembrance at 3:00 pm local time each Memorial Day.

It’s never too late to take a quiet moment and remember things.

I had my moment of silence at The Green-Wood Cemetery. It’s been a bit of an aural melee here at the house; Mordecai has been shooting fireworks off from the widow’s walk and the yeti seems convinced that what she’s doing to my great-great-great-grandfather’s bugle is playing taps.

Trust me, she’s not.

Happy Memorial Day, oddlings.

This morning I woke early and slightly blue, perhaps feeling a bit let down from the current season of Downton Abbey ending. I brewed myself a strong cup of coffee and stepped into the garden to soak in some February sunshine and crisp air.

Instead of the cleansing solitude I had hoped for, I stepped into a tableau that included Bubo wearing a Lincoln-esque hat, the dragons chopping down a “cherry tree” ( a broom handle anchored into the ground and covered in spray-painted grapes) and the yeti warbling an off-key yet catchy tune. It’s an original song titled “John Adams Is My Everything”.

I stood silently, sipping my coffee, curious to see what would come next.

When Bubo rolled out the Gettysburg Address, the Declaration of Independence, and James Madison’s Proclamation on the occupation of West Florida, though, I left.

Happy Presidents Day, my dears.