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post #23251 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 07:29 AM
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For you Mod

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post #23252 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 08:17 AM
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post #23253 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 08:52 AM
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Originally Posted by StrykersPerson View Post
I've noticed an influx of crows lately. They are bigger than my chickens. They are bold, too! They are hanging out in my fenced in yard. I am afraid for Lily. They aren't know for carrying off Rat Terriers are they? I know they scare my chickens.

Speaking of LadyDi, I thought I locked everyone up last night, but when I went out to free everyone this morning, she was still trying to figure out how to get back in the coop. I have no clue where she slept last night. No wonder I named Rock Star after Cuz!

I've never seen a crow go after a chicken (too big), and for sure not a little dog. But they will steal eggs if they can find them, and I'm sure they'd grab an unattended chick if the opportunity arose.

I used to worry about all my chickens getting back into the coop at night, but now I just let them sleep wherever they want. They either go in the coop or fly up into the barn rafters, but either way they're safe from predators. Even in the depths of winter, when it gets down to 20 or 25 below zero, they're OK in the barn. The rafters are wood, and they sit on their feet with their feathers all fluffed out, so they're fine except if a rooster has a large comb, he might lose part of it to frostbite. I don't worry about that. If they don't care, I don't care. It's not a necessary piece of anatomy.

I did have a guinea rooster that spent two days up on top of the metal coop roof during a blizzard once, though. He lost his helmet (the thing that sticks up on top of their head) and the toes of one foot and the whole foot on the other leg. So he was left with one leg that ended at his "ankle," and one leg that had a little bulbous bit on the bottom (the foot with no toes). We called him Footless, how original, eh? He walked on his stumps, and once he got his balance right, you couldn't tell from a distance that he didn't have any feet. And if his stumps got tired, he flew. He lived for another 7 years (he finally died when he was 9), and raised a batch of babies BY HIMSELF when their mom got eaten by a fox. He was an amazing bird.

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I know why I have to hit-hit-hit the MY keyboard. I knocked a beer over on it. I have to keep hitting the shift-shift-shift key the capitalize. Which may not be a good thing.

I think my problem is these flat keys, which require an exact-center strike, and my long nails. I've broken a lot of them off but most are still long enough that the strike area is a point, rather than a blunt finger in the center. I could go down to the basement and use the PC, but I'm lazy and I like to sit at the kitchen table with my coffee when I browse forums. Plus I can keep an eye on all the shenanigans (cats, mostly) from up here.

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OK, smart farmer people or horticulturist types (you know who you are), I have a question for you.

We had, as I'm sure you know from my moaning, a very hard freeze a couple of days ago (down to 8 degrees--I think it may have even been our first frost for the fall?). The trees were still fully leafed with only a few starting to show a touch of yellow when it hit. Now I'm seeing trees all over town, mature trees which are typical for this climate, with dead looking brown or stale brownish-green leaves and no real leaf fall yet.

Are they likely to have been killed or merely shocked with a little bit of branch tip die back in the spring, or are they going to come back pretty much unscathed (if the rest of our winter is typical)? I know the young or marginal for our area trees are at risk, but how about the older ones?

I live for trees.
Yeah, the tree won't die, but some of those brown leaves might hang on for quite a while. They were still green and firmly attached when they died, so they won't release properly. We have this happen a lot, and I haven't noticed too much of a problem with disease or fungus, but then again, once we get that cold, we usually stay cold, so maybe it never has a chance to settle in the wounded parts of the branches.

IS IT SPRING YET? (You'll be hearing that from me, a LOT, over the next six months or so...)

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Originally Posted by dobebug View Post
Hiya Lannie,

4 x 4 John and I are the two that live in the left hand Portland and crows are evidently only partially migratory in this part of the world (also true of some other migratory birds). While I'm in a neighborhood that has a big resident bunch of crows and there are fewer in the winter there are always some crows around. I'd rather have them around than the damned squirrels--there is a crows nest in a big ancient cherry in my back yard and while there are eggs or nestlings the crows will very efficiently keep the squirrels away.

One of the bigger hummingbirds is around all winter (more of them during the summer too and a small unidentifiable wren/chickadee sort of thing that is around here all the time.

I always figured it was because generally the weather is mild enough that with very short periods of time (like when it decides to snow and sticks around for three days and panics the drivers) the crows can mostly find food and every other house in the local neighborhoods seems to have a hummingbird feeder under cover on the porch (I have the hummers from the time my fuchsias start blooming early in the spring until it gets too cold for them--they entertain my indoor only cats all summer long.

One of my dogs used to follow airplane shadows on the ground--never occurred to him to look up I guess. It was pretty funny to watch him when he spotted a shadow...

ABTLH
Yeah, when I lived there, we always had crows and robins and stuff all year, but here, the only permanent resident is the ubiquitous sparrow. Every other bird leaves at some point in the fall and reappears in spring or early summer.

We did have a hummingbird once, but I don't know how it got here across all the miles and miles of nothing but grass. Don't they have to eat like every 5 minutes? Well, anyway, we had a beautiful iridescent green hummingbird for about a week, hovering up in the peak of the cow barn roof. I assume he was living off some of the flowers in my garden, or maybe even the comfrey blossoms, but chances are he didn't get enough to eat and died. I'm still mystified how he got out this far. He was the only hummingbird I've seen in almost 16 years living here. When we lived in Redmond (OR), we had flocks of them all over, but I had lots of lavender and other flowering herbs, so they had plenty to eat.
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post #23254 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 08:52 AM
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Hello?
You still tied up? Or did you get loose?
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post #23255 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 11:08 AM
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Hello?
Dang ! Her gag came out !
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post #23256 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 11:29 AM
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Hello?
I see you're taking the opportunity to sleep in on your vacay. Actually, I guess my time clock is 2 hours behind yours, so it was really 8 your time when you posted? Half your day is gone!
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post #23257 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 05:57 PM
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For you Mod

Yep pretty cool - sounded louder than normal....Looked like you needed some walkie talkies with Norm(if I heard correctly) - especially being hard to see?

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post #23258 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 05:58 PM
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Hello?
Hiya LadyDi - having a good time on vacation?
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post #23259 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 07:33 PM Thread Starter
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You still tied up? Or did you get loose?
Right on time Lannie! That was Hilarious!

Except, she likes getting tied up.
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post #23260 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 08:09 PM
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Right on time Lannie! That was Hilarious!

Except, she likes getting tied up.
And Spanked too !
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post #23261 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 08:21 PM
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Guarding against squirrels, possums, and smoker thieves



She is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are her life, her love, her leader. She will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of her heart. You owe it to her to be worthy of such devotion.
- Author Unknown
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post #23262 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 08:28 PM
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Originally Posted by dobebug View Post
Hiya Lannie,

4 x 4 John and I are the two that live in the left hand Portland and crows are evidently only partially migratory in this part of the world (also true of some other migratory birds). While I'm in a neighborhood that has a big resident bunch of crows and there are fewer in the winter there are always some crows around. I'd rather have them around than the damned squirrels--there is a crows nest in a big ancient cherry in my back yard and while there are eggs or nestlings the crows will very efficiently keep the squirrels away.

One of the bigger hummingbirds is around all winter (more of them during the summer too and a small unidentifiable wren/chickadee sort of thing that is around here all the time.

I always figured it was because generally the weather is mild enough that with very short periods of time (like when it decides to snow and sticks around for three days and panics the drivers) the crows can mostly find food and every other house in the local neighborhoods seems to have a hummingbird feeder under cover on the porch (I have the hummers from the time my fuchsias start blooming early in the spring until it gets too cold for them--they entertain my indoor only cats all summer long.

One of my dogs used to follow airplane shadows on the ground--never occurred to him to look up I guess. It was pretty funny to watch him when he spotted a shadow...

ABTLH
Here's a little serendipity about Crow's--the early newscast (CBS) had a thing about Portland's problems with the migratory Crows. As soon as they started into the segment I remembered that STJ (4x4 John) was talking about this last year. Evidently most of the resident crows and those from further north who are moving south (about this time of year)--and because they are big, numerous when gathering to migrate south and messy beyond all reason--Portland has for years been trying to find a way to dissuade te crows from gathering in the middle of downtown Portland.

So there is now an army of raptors--some kind of hawk--they didn't say which one but one of the bigger guys have been trained (successfully) to roust the crows. When the crows start to mass in downtown Portland the falconers come bringing their crow trained hawks and turn them loose to drive the crows out of the area.

The hawks don't kill the migrating crows but they sure scare the pants off of them and the crows leave that area and gather elsewhere.

Some of our crows simply don't migrate which explains why right now there are almost no crows in my neighborhood (which usually has quite a few--their in downtown Portland wishing the migrators good luck and have a great trip, see ya' next year.

I think our robins do migrate--I never see any around here in the winter--but the really aren't all that common in the summer either.

One of the smaller birds that crows do catch, kill and eat if they can catch them are the non native starlings which were imported by that idiot who wanted to make sure that every bird mentioned in Shakespear was present in the US as well a in England. He brought starlings in. Unfortunately they occupy the same nitch as (that isn't spelled right, is it?) as a lot of the native song birds and their poop will remove automotive finishes if it dries on your car.

More than you wanted to know Lannie--I don't blame you--I never wanted to know it either but I have a hard time not accidently remembering stuff like this--perfectly useless, mostly.

ABTLH
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post #23263 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 08:48 PM
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<VBG> Yeah

dobebug


Quote:
Yep it was Dylan - I did not know the song had to look it up Here are the lyrics -

"My Back Pages" was on his 1964 Album...

Crimson flames tied through my ears
Rollin' high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
Using ideas as my maps
"We'll meet on edges, soon," said I
Proud 'neath heated brow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now.


Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
"Rip down all hate," I screamed
Lies that life is black and white
Spoke from my skull, I dreamed
Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now.

Girls' faces formed the forward path
From phony jealousy
To memorizing politics
Of ancient history
Flung down by corpse evangelists
Unthought of, though, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now.

A self-ordained professor's tongue
Too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty
Is just equality in school
"Equality," I spoke their word
As if a wedding vow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now.

In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not I'd become my enemy
In the instant that I preach
My existence led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now.

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now.

Bob Dylan - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92cF_KCH7TU
The Byrds (cover in 1967 - good year ) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h80l4XIPJC4


Jim Croce and Maury Muehleisen were awesome!

Steve Winwood sang - Back in the High Life Again - Roll With It - Valeri - While You See A Chance
1964--I had that album and I think I used to know all the words to every song on it. The other Dylan song I once knew all the words to was the one that starts'

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez
And it's Easter time too,
And your gravity fails,
And negativity won't pull you through..

I'm not gonna' look it up--last night I was still trying to think who did Piano Man--and got to poking around in old lyrics--turns out the guy I was trying to think of was Kris Kristopherson--but he never did Piano Man--the two songs he was really best known for were "Me and Bobby McGee"--which he didn't write and "Sunday Morning Coming Down" (which he also didn't write) He wrote a lot of songs and some of them are much better known by other artists--weird how that happens.

Anyway I spent way too much time poking around in the music stuff and remembered that another guy whose lyrics I really liked was Phil Ochs.

I have a cat and two geriatric Dobermans claiming that it's time to come and feed them...

Bye ya'll...

ABTLH
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post #23264 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 09:01 PM
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Guarding against squirrels, possums, and smoker thieves
Ya know, that might be a good halloween picture for our October calendar.

I think entries are closed, but since we only have about 3 or 4 pictures, you might be able to submit late. PM dax0402 if you're interested and see what she says.

Last edited by melbrod; 10-15-2019 at 09:10 PM.
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post #23265 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 09:03 PM
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Niche.

Though if you're pronouncing it in the American way, your spelling makes more sense.

"According to the Cambridge dictionary it's pronounced 'Nitch' in American and Canadian English and 'Neesh' in British English."
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post #23266 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 10:00 PM
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Ya know, that might be a good halloween picture for our October calendar.

I think entries are closed, but since we only have about 3 or 4 pictures, you might be able to submit late. PM dax0402 if you're interested and see what she says.
Nah, we're good, this was just for fun
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She is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are her life, her love, her leader. She will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of her heart. You owe it to her to be worthy of such devotion.
- Author Unknown
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post #23267 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 11:04 PM
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She has never liked anyone except for me. I do not know if she is getting old and nice or she may really be liking this doberman...i know he likes her
Dazee has always been one to keep her distance.

IMG_2395 by d. aj, on Flickr
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post #23268 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-15-2019, 11:10 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by melbrod View Post
Niche.

Though if you're pronouncing it in the American way, your spelling makes more sense.

"According to the Cambridge dictionary it's pronounced 'Nitch' in American and Canadian English and 'Neesh' in British English."
I prefer the British way its much more sexy.
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post #23269 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-16-2019, 05:17 AM
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Originally Posted by dobebug View Post
1964--I had that album and I think I used to know all the words to every song on it. The other Dylan song I once knew all the words to was the one that starts'

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez
And it's Easter time too,
And your gravity fails,
And negativity won't pull you through..

I'm not gonna' look it up--last night I was still trying to think who did Piano Man--and got to poking around in old lyrics--turns out the guy I was trying to think of was Kris Kristopherson--but he never did Piano Man--the two songs he was really best known for were "Me and Bobby McGee"--which he didn't write and "Sunday Morning Coming Down" (which he also didn't write) He wrote a lot of songs and some of them are much better known by other artists--weird how that happens.

Anyway I spent way too much time poking around in the music stuff and remembered that another guy whose lyrics I really liked was Phil Ochs.

I have a cat and two geriatric Dobermans claiming that it's time to come and feed them...

Bye ya'll...

ABTLH

Sorry for the long post !!! I put the entire lyrics/poem at bottom. I can easily see the imagery of the Poem.

Thanks ABTLH I learned some things while researching!

Kris Kristofferson - Best I can tell at least from internet he at least was part writer of the songs - more to the story??? Me and Bobby McGee - Fred Foster was the other guy and Sunday Morning Coming - looks like he did and Ray Stevens and Johnny Cash sang it. And Me and Bobby McGee - I really just recall Janis Joplin singing it

Bob Dylan - Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues - Guess I do not know a ton of his songs other than the "main stream" ones (Like a Rolling Stone, Mr. Tambourine Man, Knockin' On Heaven's Door, and Blowing In The Wind...etc...)

Phil Ochs - I definitely had not heard of Phil - looks like his life was a bit hard...I liked some of the songs I listened to. I came across this one he sang: The Highwayman
I had already known that one but from Loreena McKennitt. It is a poem by Alfred Noyes.

Phil's version - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hX1o1yLIvak

Loreena's version - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGFo0xn4JeY

Poem below - the bolded parts are not in Loreena's version...Phil's version cut some more out...it is long
PART ONE

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s red-lipped daughter.
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—


“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

PART TWO

He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.
But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.
They had bound a musket beside her, with the muzzle beneath her breast!
“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her. She heard the doomed man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.
Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love’s refrain
.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The red coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light.
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

. . .

And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Last edited by modm; 10-16-2019 at 05:39 AM.
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post #23270 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-16-2019, 05:51 AM
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Originally Posted by modm View Post
Yep pretty cool - sounded louder than normal....Looked like you needed some walkie talkies with Norm(if I heard correctly) - especially being hard to see?

We have radios mod - Norms is down -will fix that when it rains Good thinking there
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post #23271 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-16-2019, 05:55 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by TNfisher View Post
Guarding against squirrels, possums, and smoker thieves
Told wife - this may be the most bad a-- looking picture posted here in a while ! Caption : WHO GOES THERE ! Great pic. TN - you do have a true talent ! btw - She agreed with me
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post #23272 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-16-2019, 06:29 AM
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Had a fun day yesterday ! Norms granddaughter came over and rode with me - she's 17 - a senior - President of the Morristown FFA ( last 2 years ) and loves ag . I could see her checking out everything in the cab , so I asked her if she wanted to drive it ? Her eyes got big and she replied -- I don't know , lol So as I got to the end rows I said we will make the switch there and we did She was pretty nervous at first - after the first round - I said , take a deep breath and relax !
She did and then good things started happening - She felt at ease - I was wondering if I should trust her to dump on the go ? I watched her like a hawk and said Doc - she can do this - I showed her how to put the auger out and turn it on and warned her - she would have to drive straight not much room for error and she would want to drift to the catch cart - As we started to dump on the cart - like I said - she started to drift over - its natural to do - look left and you move your arm left , for a first time - I thought she did a outstanding job - She ended up driving for over a hour and got better and better every round + I was showing more things to watch and do - she was picking up what I was putting down - I was impressed ! She had to leave for volleyball practice and I was disappointed ! I was just about to turn her lose and make a few rounds solo - That is how much she impressed me - She is a natural combine operator ! Much like my wife was - is - The Mrs. could drive anything and do great with what she did - Not very people can do that - Men OR Women - I have found that the gals for the most part make the best drivers here on the farm - they pay better attention to detail !

Well better go - everybody have a great day
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post #23273 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-16-2019, 08:04 AM
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You still tied up? Or did you get loose?
Hoss chewed me loose.........Ba ha ha ha !!!
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Hoss
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post #23274 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-16-2019, 08:06 AM
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Cool

Quote:
Originally Posted by ECIN View Post
Dang ! Her gag came out !
Dang straight it came out.....you better watch it buddy!
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Hoss
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post #23275 of 24549 (permalink) Old 10-16-2019, 08:18 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by TNfisher View Post
Guarding against squirrels, possums, and smoker thieves
GREAT picture! I absolutely love the backlighting.

Quote:
Originally Posted by dobebug View Post
Here's a little serendipity about Crow's--the early newscast (CBS) had a thing about Portland's problems with the migratory Crows. As soon as they started into the segment I remembered that STJ (4x4 John) was talking about this last year. Evidently most of the resident crows and those from further north who are moving south (about this time of year)--and because they are big, numerous when gathering to migrate south and messy beyond all reason--Portland has for years been trying to find a way to dissuade te crows from gathering in the middle of downtown Portland.

So there is now an army of raptors--some kind of hawk--they didn't say which one but one of the bigger guys have been trained (successfully) to roust the crows. When the crows start to mass in downtown Portland the falconers come bringing their crow trained hawks and turn them loose to drive the crows out of the area.

The hawks don't kill the migrating crows but they sure scare the pants off of them and the crows leave that area and gather elsewhere.

Some of our crows simply don't migrate which explains why right now there are almost no crows in my neighborhood (which usually has quite a few--their in downtown Portland wishing the migrators good luck and have a great trip, see ya' next year.

I think our robins do migrate--I never see any around here in the winter--but the really aren't all that common in the summer either.

One of the smaller birds that crows do catch, kill and eat if they can catch them are the non native starlings which were imported by that idiot who wanted to make sure that every bird mentioned in Shakespear was present in the US as well a in England. He brought starlings in. Unfortunately they occupy the same nitch as (that isn't spelled right, is it?) as a lot of the native song birds and their poop will remove automotive finishes if it dries on your car.

More than you wanted to know Lannie--I don't blame you--I never wanted to know it either but I have a hard time not accidently remembering stuff like this--perfectly useless, mostly.

ABTLH
Oh, I remember the starlings. They used to gorge on blackberries and then gather by the MILLIONS in the big old tree in our front yard, underneath which I used to park my beautiful white Thunderbird. Until they crapped that blackberry crap all over it and ruined the finish. I'm just glad the car wasn't black - it would have showed up worse on black.

My grandmother, strange person that she was, used to put food and water down for the mice in her house, and she'd put a little water in a mayo jar lid for the freaking SPIDERS, OMG, shudder... I was not allowed to kill a spider under any circumstances (except when she wasn't looking). I know all this because I lived with her for a few years when I was a teenager and my mom and I were at war. Anyway, that peaceful woman who wouldn't kill anything had a line of good sized rocks on her windowsill that looked out over the back yard, and whenever she saw a starling, she cut loose with language that would make a sailor blush and start hurling rocks at them! It was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen up to that time in my life, LOL! She said they were nasty, dirty birds, and they killed other birds' babies to steal their nests and she had absolutely no sympathy for them at all. I don't know if she ever actually hit one with her rocks, but if not, it wasn't for lack of trying!

Quote:
Originally Posted by modm View Post
Sorry for the long post !!! I put the entire lyrics/poem at bottom. I can easily see the imagery of the Poem.

Thanks ABTLH I learned some things while researching!

Kris Kristofferson - Best I can tell at least from internet he at least was part writer of the songs - more to the story??? Me and Bobby McGee - Fred Foster was the other guy and Sunday Morning Coming - looks like he did and Ray Stevens and Johnny Cash sang it. And Me and Bobby McGee - I really just recall Janis Joplin singing it

Bob Dylan - Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues - Guess I do not know a ton of his songs other than the "main stream" ones (Like a Rolling Stone, Mr. Tambourine Man, Knockin' On Heaven's Door, and Blowing In The Wind...etc...)

Phil Ochs - I definitely had not heard of Phil - looks like his life was a bit hard...I liked some of the songs I listened to. I came across this one he sang: The Highwayman
I had already known that one but from Loreena McKennitt. It is a poem by Alfred Noyes.

Phil's version - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hX1o1yLIvak

Loreena's version - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGFo0xn4JeY

Poem below - the bolded parts are not in Loreena's version...Phil's version cut some more out...it is long
PART ONE

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s red-lipped daughter.
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—


“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

PART TWO

He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.
But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.
They had bound a musket beside her, with the muzzle beneath her breast!
“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her. She heard the doomed man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.
Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love’s refrain
.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The red coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light.
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

. . .

And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Oh, I LOVE that Highwayman song by Loreena McKennitt. I have it on one of her CDs somewhere around here but I haven't had a CD player in so long, I haven't listened to it in years.

Speaking of not seeing/hearing something for years, you guys will never believe what I scored! A copy of "The Doberman Gang!" I think it has the second movie on it, too, "The Amazing Dobermans," if I recall. There are one or two others after that, but they're not in print anymore. That's OK, I ordered the first one! I used to love that movie, and I seriously don't think I've seen it since the mid-80s sometime. The ex and I had it on tape, but it was Beta, and we never copied it over to VHS when all the machines changed.

I'd forgotten all about it, in fact, until one day last week, I was bemoaning the fact (for the thousandth time) that our beautiful dogs are only portrayed as "attack" and "guard" dogs in movies, with bit parts at best, and then something in the back of my brain said, "Hold on a sec, wasn't there a movie or two ABOUT Dobes?" I had to sleep on it a couple nights before it came to me and I suddenly remembered the title. So I looked online until I found it, and it should be here today! So guess what Rich and I will be watching after dinner tonight? It's been so long since I've seen it, I can only remember the general plot line, and that it was totally a crappy "B" movie, except for the dogs. THEY are the stars!
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