Seven years on flickr!

Prerequisite selfie. (What the hell’s going on with my hair?)

I will say that Flickr beats Facebook over and over for the friends I’ve found on these pages. I’ve lost many a friend to FB or even Instagram (Really? Buy an expensive camera and software/dumb it down to plastic toy quality?) I go through my contacts every so often and find friends that haven’t uploaded in a year or more, and frequently, I drop them. I’ve added new ones in the last couple of weeks. There’s a lot of talent out there.

In 2 weeks, it will be a year anniversary of Gracie’s passing. She was a giant part of my joining Flickr (inspired by a Mz Peggy out there in San Diego with her pyr pictures.) Over the years I’ve seen many of our 4 legged friends pass on. I’d never though I’d be in that situation ’til Grace passed away.

Now, I’m rather stunned to be holding a 17 week old pyr puppy and starting the whole thing over.

Thanks all of you. Much love.

via Flickr


Hairline by POOLEworks | roger
Hairline, a photo by POOLEworks | roger on Flickr.

a.k.a. by the Ortho called “Ice Ballet.”

Performance was Sunday, January 22, 2012. Only person in the audience was George, who feigned complete disinterest.

It’s a tiny little crack, but it hurts like hell to do anything with my right arm.

Almost a month later and I’m still at a loss for words.

Birthday Pup

It’s been 29 days since I put my best friend to sleep.

I’ve gone through many thoughts about how I don’t want to forget how I felt about this or that leading up to the June 29th, 2011 appointment at 7:15 pm.

Mostly thinking about sitting outside with her in the grass, a towel folded under her head. No matter how I tried I could not keep the towel sorted out. And how she would only eat ice, and boy, was she chopping it down like crazy.

The Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights with her, reminding me of the last couple of days with my mother. Tuesday and Wednesday were so bad, I’d had to harness a sling to support her as she when outside. When she did walk and eventually sit down heavily (or just collapse) She’d pant at me heavily and look at me with her big smile. I want to believe she was telling me it was time. However, she’s a dog, I don’t believe she knew what it was time for. Let’s not anthropomorphize the situation. Maybe she wanted a trip to the vet to fix things up as we’d done so many times in the past. I cannot believe she’d say I wanna call it quits. I don’t believe she knew what that was, in the way a small child doesn’t understand death.

Knot in throat.

An appointment made that I wished I didn’t have to follow through with. In a gallows humor mode, I wonder about prisoners on their last walk down the the execution. There’s a stilted walk and a thought process they must take. “Gotta go this way, there’s no out.” “I’ve got this appointment, there’s no other option.” “Tonight will permanently change the course of my life.” Still they keep going.” “This is going to be a big permanent change in my life.” The gallows humor joke is ultimately about the survivors, they’ve gotta do the walk back. They really get the pain. I look at euthanasia differently now. I wouldn’t change it. But feed the rest of the crowd some pain killers.

The second worse part of this ordeal was in the moments preceding and as the needle was injected. We were petting Grace and talking softly with her. She was lying quietly on the scale/table (72lbs.). The Dr Schiber came in and asked if we were ready. I cannot believe how numb I felt. We said yes and she shaved a little spot on Grace’s hind leg. There was a back and forth conversation about saving some hair. Then she made the injection. { Insert crying jag right here as I type this. }

It was maybe 5 seconds before Grace’s eyes got a little wide and then… Nothing seemed to happen.

We had to ask if she was gone. { Insert crying jag #2 right here as I type this. }

We spent another 10 minutes with her before it really sunk in, it was done, time for the execution party to walk back.

As we left the room, I had to stop and look back at the most gorgeous friend / animal I’ve ever know and loved. { Insert crying jag #3 right here as I type this. } I think, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to remember that view for the rest of my life. It will be the view of the saddest thing I’ve known in my life.

I had a hole in one AGAIN?!

Check out #6!

Check out #6!Two hole in ones in one summer? This after nearly 35 years of playing golf and never having a single one? What are the odds? (Having someone look at that right now.)

Funny thing about this particular hole. The first year I played golf, I came out to this course, then called the Hercules Golf Course, a full 20 years before I became a member here, and played a tournament with a type salesman friend of mine. I hit a 3 wood here and got closest to the pin for the tournament.

This particular fine day, I hit an 8 iron uphill about 140 yards while playing with my FOG friends, Ernie Hall and John Woolrich.

Had a hole in one!

Yeah me!
Playing #12, July 4th 2010 at Delaware National with Tony Vuolo & Herb Maar.
I hit an 8 iron that flew directly over the flag and spun back maybe 20 feet and just disappeared!

Conversation at a bar mitzvah

Roger: Matt, doesn’t Hebrew just sound like Dr Seuss read backwards?
Matt: Yeah, I can see that.
Roger: I wonder if Dr Seuss was Jewish, and perhaps picked up the rhymes from his Jewish teachings.
Matt: Of course he was Jewish!
Roger: How do you know that?
Matt: He’s a Doctor!

(note he was in fact a practicing Lutheran)