Flicka Dahling

A flicker stayed still long enough for me to photograph him.

Mama Owl peeking over the edge.

Daddy Owl preening and proud of it.

Peek-a-Daddy-Owl-Boo. What’s up, Daddy Owl?

Talons

Hanging on in the wind

The Dreaded DST

When the time changed to Daylight Savings Time, Marina at Marina Kanavaki — Art Towards a Happy Day, made a comment about “the dreaded DST!” I told her that was a good song title. I had intended to write and record the song a couple of weeks ago, but DST got in the way. It seems I’m always coming up an hour short. I did the calculations to answer the question about how much daylight we save each year, and address them in the song.

The Dreaded DST
Lyrics and Music by Timothy Price
Inspired by Marina Kanavaki

Daylight blinds fools who have no skills
They create silly rules they are so unreal
Daylight’s scarce, why don’t we care?
We save it eight months out of… every year

Bedtime at ten feels like nine
Don’t feel sleepy? Have more wine
It’s midnight damn, the bottle’s empty
I’m still awake… I’m feeling pretty cranky

Now we’re on the dreaded DST
Body clocks are broken why can’t we see
That hour we save every single day
Is two-hundred forty hours of daylight that we have… stashed away

Alarm at five it feels like four
Like a zombie, I hit the door
Preparation-H on the old toothbrush
Toothpaste up my… Whew! What a rush

No time to shower, sleepin’ on the job,
Stinkin’ up the office, what a slob
Head bobs up and down, fishing at the screen
My boss is cranky… making quite a scene

Now we’re on the dreaded DST
Body clocks are broken why can’t we see
We can look forward to falling back
We get one-hundred twenty hours of daylight from… our stash

We’ve changed to DST for 56 years
That’s six-thousand seven-hundred hours, my dear
Of daylight, we’ve been banking away
So let’s go spend it on our… sanity

Now we’re on the dreaded DST
Body clocks are broken why can’t we see
That hour we save every single day
Is two-hundred forty hours of daylight that we have… stashed away

Marina’s Incognito Pear Tree

Morning contrails

Mama Owl was sowing her head last night. The Owlets might have hatched.

Afternoon clouds

8-Track

Cary drove his Lincoln land barge to the house tonight. Laurie said “You know how your memories of most things are larger than what they really are? That Lincoln is larger than I remember!” Her grandmother drove Lincoln Continentals. Either way, it’s one big car, and what I found amazing is it has a working 8-track tape deck and, even more amazing, Cary has 8-track tapes. I had an 8-track tape deck in the first car I bought in 1975, a 1966 Rambler American. I hated 8-track tapes because if I forgot to eject the tape cartridge before I turned on to our rough dirt road, the tape deck would eat the tape. I had an 8-track recorder at home in the 70s, and I used to record my favorite songs onto 8-track tapes from records (playlists today) to play in the car. At least when a tape got eaten by the tape deck, I could record another one.