Best reality show ever

Our friend Barbara Holder has introduced Jimmy and me to a nesting pair of bald eagles in central Minnesota.  A live-streaming solar-powered camera is trained on their nest, 75 feet in the air, and you can watch their goings and comings, 24/7. No eggs have appeared  so far, but Mama Eagle laid her first egg last year on March 6, so one should arrive very shortly. Eggs should hatch after a 35-37 day incubation period. (Update 3/10 AM  an egg is here- came late yesterday afternoon!)

To access this fascinating website, go to:
http://www.mnbound.com/live-eagle-cam/

Fernandina pelicans

So cool

(Disclaimer: if, after reading this, you are shaking your head in bewilderment, I cannot 'splain to you.)
             
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Last Friday, I spent some time with my brother William, whom some say IS the coolest guy on the planet. After a relatively uneventful lunch, we headed to Big Lots in search of Kalamata olives and zip-lock bags (but that's another story.)

William had listened patiently while I vented about this and that, and as he wheeled into the Big Lots' shopping center, I wound up with a lame, ".. you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.."

William nodded thoughtfully for a few seconds, then said, "Chuck Norris can."

"HUH?"  I was totally confused.

" Chuck Norris can lead a horse to water AND he can make him drink."

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Hint:

http://www.chucknorrisfacts.com/chuck-norris-top-50-facts

Get the picture:

... a cloudless, bright blue afternoon in early March, the air a cool 65 degrees, and a sharp wind blowing out of the east ...  Jimmy and I were having lunch at the Ocean Club in Amelia Plantation, and we opted to dine al fresco because...well, because it was a beautiful day in early March.

Undeterred by the chilly weather, people swam and sunned themselves, and pretty girls in bikinis padded around the pool with airs of self-conscious indifference.

And then there were Ellen and Jimmy.  Insulated by layers for warmth (t-shirt, shirt, sweater, wind-breaker), Jimmy braved the elements quite comfortably.

The Pac-Man analogy

A few days ago, I referred to Jimmy's analogy of his cancer being like little Pac-Men attacking his bone marrow: a vivid if not-so-pleasant image.  Pac-Man was an immensely popular arcade/video game, originating in the early 1980's, where the player controls a Pac-Man through a maze, scoring points for all the pac-dots it consumes.

Last night on the Golf Channel, golf pro Paul Azinger fielded questions about his treatment for non-Hodgkins lymphoma in 1993 when Paul was 32 years old.  Asked if it had bothered him, losing all his hair because of the chemotherapy, his reaction was, "NO!! I felt like the cancer was little Pac-Men working on me, and when my hair fell out, I felt like the chemo was destroying the cancer as well as my hair."

It's interesting that Azinzer's description was exactly like Jimmy's.  I prefer to look at it another way:  that the Pac-men are the chemo drugs, gobbling up the cancer cells.

A birthday lament

It's happening more and more often, and it irritates the fire out of me: sales clerks and waitstaff and cashiers, usually very young, addressing me as "Dear" and "Sweetie."   AS IF.  As if I am their grandmother.  As if I am a doddering old lady.

When they say,  "Here you go, Sweetie" or "Thanks, Dear", I give them a tight little smile, but what I REALLY want to say is, "You can call me Madame or you can call me Mrs. Dewar; you can call me Your Royal Highness, for all I care, but you call me 'Sweetie' one more time and I'll kick you in the shins. You young whippersnapper."

When I'm 64...

Back in 1967, when I was eighteen, I loved the Beatles song "When I'm 64."  Some of the lyrics:

When I get older, losing my hair,
Many years from now,
Will you be sending me a Valentine,
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating your point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say,
Yours sincerely, wasting way.

Give me your answer, fill in a form,
Mine for evermore.
Will you still feed me,
Will you still need me,
When I'm 64?