The Ghoulies are a creepin’ and a crawlin’ into the stores to creep people out on their build up to Halloween. And the weeks, days, hours, minutes and secconds are flying by as folks anticipate the hallowed haunt before dia de los muertos.
There are only 11 shopping weeks left before Halloween. Or 77 days or 1848 hours or 110,880 minutes or 6,652,800 seconds.
Time flies like the bats, as they say, so don’t procrastinate, or you will miss out on the creepy, crawling ghouls of your dreams.
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
Butterflies on Charlotte’s blooming Plum Tree
Mama Owl was sowing her head last night. The Owlets might have hatched.
I was photographing bees in the freshly bloomed plum tree. When I went out to check on Daddy Owl, I got sidetracked by burros and bovine. Since I was doing macro-like shots of the bees, I decided “Moo Macros” were in order for the cows.
Honey bee loaded down with pollen.
Moo Macro in B&W
This burro found a tasty cottonwood branch.
A blue native bee.
Tongue to the right.
Tongue to the left.
Tuck tongue nostril right.
Tuck tongue nostril left.
That’s how you do the Bovine Tongue Tuck Tango.
Bovine doing an imitation of a lion.
Another native bee.
Bovine dog imitation.
Daddy Owl was looking out at the Sandias, but gave me a quick, “You’re bothering me, boy!” look.
Off Center & Not Even 