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The Simply Rustic Home

Wiser’s Wramblings-Lucky #13 First of Many More


By Chuck Wiser, I write the words to share what my eyes see and my heart feels

Upon awakening I had in mind an opening topic which came to me in a dream. Upon gazing beyond Sun-Bird Room window, my topic reverted to “last in first out” so Larry-Lucky 13 gets top billing. Larry is the 13th Raccoon we have caught in the live trap and given a courtesy ride to the Raccoon Rehabilitation Resort (RRR) in a local state forest location. Larry was first observed earlier this week. I would have given a specific day but apparently Facebook has decided that I didn’t need to see any previous posts, having already looked back and seen them. As a side note that is the third app/feature that I use that has decided to change their operating procedures or menu options for my “betterment.”

Anyway, Larry was spotted, unrecognized, as one of the 8 or 9 immature raccoons that  scampered across the back lawn at 4 AM as I looked out the kitchen window trying to determine why the motion detecting back garage light was on. This is the first batch of kits/cubs that we have seen in this “offspring brood” season. Immature raccoons can be called either kits or cubs according to Bing. The birds eat enough of the sunflower seeds, and with the escalating price of those, we cannot afford to feed both. The price of sunflower seeds at Walmart has gone from $21.99 to $30.99 in a month’s time. Eating the sunflower seeds isn’t the only problem. The critters destroy the feeders protective cage to get at the seeds in the process. So do bears by the way.

It has taken me nearly three hours to Wramble to this point in my article. Distractions and sidetracks have diverted my attention albeit in efforts pertaining to this writing. I had taken pictures of the raccoon with both my Kindle Fire and my new(er) Canon camera, but my internet connection and Wi-Fi operation, or lack thereof, had thwarted all efforts to communicate between devices. I cannot compose on a smartphone, nor the Kindle easily, so my writing (or writhings) are done on my Laptop. The internet interface problems are not solely Spectrum created, although that is the major contributing component. The Sun-Bird room from which I work until outside temperatures make working from the unheated room uncomfortable, is actually an addition to the outside of the house with an adjoining sliding glass door. Thus, the signal must pass mostly through the side of the house. Maybe if it was a WiF-eye it could see its way through the doorway.

The Table of contents picture that adorns this writing shows my formal weeklong notes-book and a scrap of paper composed during my Walmart Wednesday trip yesterday. I will touch on those topics first complying with the LIFO theory discussed in an earlier Wrambling. If you missed that chapter in the reading assignment you will have to guess what LIFO stands for.

Topically what the noted agenda includes is: Feed Dog, Garbage Bag, Clear Conscience and Truck Hubcap. In no particular chronological order as I had to write those notes after I pulled over so as to avoid “writing and driving” (wink, wink). I stopped at the Reservation in Cuba, which surrounding area is going through some kind of updates or additions judging from the bull-dozed and leveled accompanying land parcels. Not sure what is being built or added to that reservation site, which is the one up on the knoll closest to the Rte. 446 (Hinsdale Road) intersection.

I was third in line and as I watched the gentleman in the truck in front of me as he went into the office/store to pay for his gas, I noticed his medium sized dog, with its head sticking out the window anxiously awaiting his return. Upon his return and inserting the gas nozzle into the tank fill tube, the guy reached into his pocket and retrieved some packages of what appeared to be Beef Jerky snacking treats. He removed the wrapper from one, took a bite, and then broke off a piece handing it to the “quivering in anticipation” dog. This was repeated several times. I stepped out of my car and told the guy that I regretted not having my camera with me as that was an awesome thing to watch. He responded back that he didn’t think his dog would let him leave if he didn’t get its customary treat. Sometimes waiting in line is easier to endure than others.

As I continued toward Olean traveling on the CCC construction four lane, I noticed what appeared to be a mid-sized garbage bag lying on the side of the road. A pickup truck was pulled over just ahead of it and the driver was walking back toward the bag. As I approached and drove by I assumed he had lost the bag off the truck as he picked it up. I didn’t actually see him look into the bag but apparently it wasn’t anything he wanted as he immediately dropped it and the bag was still on the side of the road on my return trip home. I guess this trash wasn’t his treasure.

I had a prescription ready at the Rite Aid pharmacy in Olean, so I stopped by there to pick it up. As I departed the store I noticed a figure, person, or something sitting in or on a wheelchair and was leaning forward or slumped over. My first thought was that it was a mannequin or something like that. As I was leaving the store I proceeded to back out of my parking spot and pulled away driving toward the exit, I then noticed that it was indeed a person, and he was sleeping or passed out. I thought about it as I continued out to the street, turned back toward South Union Street, and continued around the Roundabout. The farther I went, the more concerned I got that perhaps I should check it out. So I did. I turned into a side street, went around the block and returned to the store. The guy was still there in the chair, so I went into the store, being hesitant to approach the person. When I got into the store the cashier was on the phone talking and there was another person standing there with her. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one that was concerned. After a couple of minutes of conversation, the cashier hung the phone up and explained that she was just checking with her boss as to whether to once again call the police to report the guy. It seems that this wasn’t the first time this had happened and that there was a restraining order prohibiting him from being there. He had a history of overdosing.

This last Olean trip story is the shortest. On my way home, just passing by Canal Street on the aforementioned four lane road, I noticed a large glistening chrome truck hubcap laying on the side of the road. It was one of those very large shiny ones. My first instinct was to go back and get it as it was pretty neat. My commonsense hesitancy told me that the trucker would likely want it back if he noticed it missing and went back in search of it. It may well still be there. I may check it out on my next trip to Olean.

In last week’s Wrambling I used the word Peddle grammatically inappropriately.  I am reluctant to use people’s names herein, but I warned her that I might so Mary Ann Fanton (Buzzard) shan’t be surprised that I have done so. Mary Ann had graciously and respectfully pointed the error out to me, although given her reading history of my articles she assumed I did so on purpose. I confessed that I hadn’t and thanked her.

Her direct comment to me was facilitated by my providing my contact information address inviting such interaction. It turns out that the former Mary Ann Buzzard, had been a Friendship, NY resident and although many years younger than me, we both recognized each other’s names. Mary Ann’s brother and father were the owners of Buzzard’s Chevrolet, a garage in Friendship, at one time adjacent to the fire hall. My parents had purchased many vehicles there, as it was the “go to” dealership for new car purchase and maintenance. As a matter of fact, they were the ones who restored my mother’s car to usable condition when I and an East Main Street tree had a confrontation. How does that old song go? 🎶🎶🎶 “I fought the tree and the tree won.”

More on reading and writing. I am again reading a Stuart Woods novel and still shake my head at his need to include a few “smutty” comments amidst some great story telling. It is completely unnecessary and only detracts from the storyline. He started right out with the “F” word on the second page. In the book, and others I have read, they mentioned exhuming a body whose fingernails had continued growing postmortem and were long and curled as are the ancient Egyptian or Indian  kings or rulers. That isn’t the only place I have seen the description of postmortem fingernail growth. It is actually only lore or a wife’s tale. Fingernails do not keep growing after death as determined by my research.

My word of the week is Peen,  as in“Ball Peen Hammer.” That came to mind after reading an article wherein it mentioned “peening” of a metal. Peening is a cold metal working process where the metal is deformed or bent or worked, often around a form, by hammering. The metal needs to be malleable (soft enough for working by deforming) to be shaped in this process. The peening side of the hammer is rounded, and the opposite end may be flat or perhaps tapered to flat edge or dull pointed radius.

My word suffix of the week is “…ticipation,” as in Anticipation and Participation. I guess it isn’t considered a specific suffix as such, as I couldn’t find anything that describes it as a suffix. I only found the two listings I mentioned and two more similar such as emancipation and constipation. Now with that I guess it’s a signal that it’s time to Wramble on out of here. I did however manage to find 14 words ending in “cipation.” I guess my anticipation of your participation may lead to my decapitation if I keep going.

I will end by tying my last thought in as my fingernails have grown considerably as I write. I felt pretty good getting to about 75 or 80 (as I recall) words per minute when I took typing in high school, foregoing the opportunity to take Driver’s Education from Mr. Ahl at FCS. It amazes me, both as to just how quickly people can type and text using just two fingers, and maybe their opposing thumbs, and to their nonchalance over the number of errors that they make without concern or correction. I will now pedal away to peddle my petals in flowering phrases elsewhere.

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