Friday, March 16, 2018

Friday, August 18, 2017

Another  funny starring Hubby and Pooh:

Hubby leaves the house early to go fishing, says "I'll leave the tv on for ya" since I can't tell between the four remotes which one does what. I get up several hours later TV on. I managed to finally turn on the telly and sent a photo to prove it. Hubby's response was, "Where is the fire??". I said, "No didn't leave it on....I figured it out!"

Sunday, July 23, 2017

The Saga of Spaz

I suppose this is a story that will have more than one tale..or even 'tail'. 

Yesterday I posted that Spaz, a juvenile squirrel that is the epitome of teenage varmintdom, was attacking one of our solar lights.  First he kept trying to dismantle the actual ball from the stake, since he couldn't get a good grip on that, he went after the solar battery pack.  Today, he managed to behead his solar nemesis and then continued to gnaw and ravage the silent enemy. I removed the poor victim, returned to the scene of the crime and literally peppered the area with lemon pepper and garlic...since he was in such a rage he tore up the nearby vegetation. Hey, I'm all about living with each other but this rodent has gone beyond 'nature'. Tune in...

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Doggone Squirrels

We have these little solar lights around the yard and they have NEVER bothered anyone. Until today. Apparently one of the new generation of squirrels took a liking or dislike to the solar panel and TOOK IT APART!! We have watched this particular party circling the ball, pulling on the stake and just general sniffing all day. Only minutes ago did we see him chewing on a black disc... good grief, Charlie Brown, what is WRONG with you???
In retrospect, I've noticed one particular juvenile since April or so who is rather, well...squirrely!  Or Spaz as I call him.  I'm not sure if this youngster is right in the head or seriously has a nut a little off balance.  He chases all the other squirrels off, acts like a bully and is very demanding when he sees us sitting on the front deck; squeaks and beats his front feet on the ground.
But this focus on the light all day is a curiosity indeed.

Friday, April 1, 2016

Summer Jobs in the California Suburbs...50 Years Ago.

When I was a kid, 'bout 10 or so, we lived in a 'normal' suburb, 30+ miles east of San Francisco. Not much wild life left in those areas, maybe an occasional lizard or snake, but few and far between. My job was to go out at first dark with dads' HUGE flashlight and go STOMP on snails. I guess I was cheaper than snail bait. I can't remember if I got an allowance for that or not, but I hated the crunching sounds AND the slime. One night I was out there, doing my California Girl thing, stomping on those otherwise French delicacies. I would swing that baseball bat-sized flashlight (I am sure it was a relic from WW2) to find any strays. One night, that huge beam landed on a pair of beady black eyes, attached to a giant...SOMETHING. "DAAAAAADDD!!!! THERE'S A GIANT RAT OUTSIDE!!!" Of course, the ADULT is thinking, "Wha?? We don't have giant rats here. Crazy kid." Out the front door walks dad with that look, you know the one, "Yeahrightshowme" look. So. I did. I swung that 13kabillion watt beam over to that creature and sure enough, "SEE DAD??? A GIANT RAT!!" "Oh my gosh, Janie, that's not a rat, that's an opossum!!" " What the heck is a wild animal doing in our front yard??" Well, seems that there was a 'wild' park area (actually an old ranch) about 2 miles from our house, it used to be called The Horseman's Association, for those local folks who wanted to keep their horses close, a rodeo here and there and people who wanted to ride. On this ranch, a creek ran through it, the one that went by Hillcrest Elementary School. It was wild down there in that creek; overgrown trees and bushes so thick you got lost in 5 seconds. Birds flitted all over and snakes and mice and rabbits and who knows what else lived in there. And it was the place your parents told you NEVER. EVER. EVER. GO THERE ALONE.
One day came when the ranch was sold and the surrounding area was turned into a city park. All the trees and bushes were chopped down and removed, rolling green grass laid down and picnic tables dotted throughout. I don't recall if they left the stream alone. But, the animals had to go somewhere and so they roamed and wandered for 4 to 40 days and nights. And sometimes, they would sneak out from behind a house, late at night when a young girl was doing her garden Stomping Chore, and scare the beejeebers out of her.

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Between math and English....

5 hrs ·

dang. may I call a friend?
Mr. Him: I thought this looked familiar;

The fourier series of the function f(x) in an arbitrary interval.
...See More
Terri Beauchamp
Miz Scarlett: Riiiiiight, so familiar, ahem cough. So what's the password, fourier?
Like · Reply · 2 · 1 hr · Edited
Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson I think I will friend Mr. Him.
Like · Reply · 2 · 2 hrs
Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson I can't even SAY "fourier"...
Like · Reply · 1 · 2 hrs
Mike McCollough
Mr. Him: Four e air, like Pierre with an F
Like · Reply · 1 hr
Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson Mike, picture Goldie Hawn in Laugh In trying to say that.
Like · Reply · 1 · 1 hr
Mike McCollough
Mr. Him: I have several pictures of Goldie Hawn, but that is not one them😎
Like · Reply · 1 hr
Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson Lol! Obviously you didn't get ALL of them wink emoticon
Like · Reply · 1 · 1 hr
Jane A. Thompson
Write a reply...

Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson The tangent of the cosign is the result of the hypotenuse intersecting with the root squared.
Like · Reply · 2 · 1 hr
Hal Patrick
Mr. He: like we didn't already know that!
Like · Reply · 1 · 1 hr
Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson Took you long enough to reply, uh huh....
Like · Reply · 2 · 1 hr
Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson Oh look, he wants to take me to the movies!
Like · Reply · 2 · 1 hr
Hal Patrick
Mr. He: make 'em buy you popcorn, that's what the best guys do.
Unlike · Reply · 2 · 1 hr
Jane A. Thompson
Jane A. Thompson What a fun thread this was...might just blog it but names if the guilty will be changed.
Like · Reply · 1 · 48 mins
Hal Patrick
Mr. He: i think fb is @ its best when quality information is shared and / or people have fun, janie -- this is certainly one of those threads!

Friday, March 20, 2015

Part IIII: The Last of Grandfathers' Hobo Trek 1930

Dec.5-30  Six oclock and darkness has been over the desert for an hour and a half.  The moon is shining full and save for the fore knowledge to the contrary one would think they were alone on the earth, the car broken down and watching now for over 3 hrs for a car on the highway without one passing, one can appreciate what others have gone thru, especially now that our food + water supply is getting dangerously low, and if we don’t connect with a car tomorrow one of us must start walking to Moapa for supplies and tube repair material; what a lot of grief a (this was crossed out: car can make after all) The loss of a small tube of cement can make.

Dec. 7-30  After a two day wait we were able to get a tube of cement from a car driven by two Indian trappers for which we paid 25c and which when opened proved to be almost empty. After three attempts we finally succeeded in getting the stem to hold air, and thinking all was now ready we stepted on the starter and lo the battery was dead; hailing a passing car (we were fortunate to see two cars in one day) Greg went to Moapa to get another battery.  I have just eaten just about all the grub if Greg doesn’t get back today I will have to start for Moapa myself tomorrow morning.  This desert life after nearly two weeks is getting frightfully monotonous especially now that I’ve been here alone  The nearest water is 15 miles and I have grub enough for two more meals by using up all I have.  I will surely appreciate some home made bread again as we have live almost entirely on hot cakes + din bobs since we came here two weeks ago.  I can hardly realize that this is early Dec., except for a north wind that blows night + day the weather is fine, the days are almost hot but the nights are cold or what is considered cold, barely freezing.  I wonder what luck Greg will have today and when we will leave here.   Still I can wonder very long, for I must leave here tomorrow morning if he doesn’t come today, yet there is a certain fascination for this desert waste one feels awed at natures formidable claim of drouth + waste, which ever way I look I see gray sand and mesquite brush and low Mts in the offing, if I only had company.

5:30 P.m  At last we are back in the states again having one of the most harrowing experiences in the desert; I am glad I made the trip now that it is over all tho had I known what was ahead of me before going, I don’t think I could have been induced to make the attempt.  I hope I may say farewell to the desert all tho sometime when nature is in a relenting mood it may yet become a paradice.

This transcription was copied word for word.  My grandfather, Leon Augustus Valentine, made this ‘adventure’ during one of Americas’ poorest eras.  Why he did I don’t know nor do I know the final destination.  The journal stopped at “paradice”.  I have done some research and  I believe the Indians he spoke of were most likely the Paiutes.  The Indians and their dirt-poor and barren reservations were no better off.  Although I do have to wonder about the “new Levis”.  Who knows?  I have read this journal many times and copied it three and each and every time I get another picture in my head, another view of this grandfather that I never knew but who was SO loved by his children!  And how he could flower his words!


The Moapa practiced irrigation agriculture before contact with Europeans. The Moapa suffered from Spanish slave raiders attacks in the 18th and early 19th centuries.

In 1869 the United States relocated the Southern Paiutes to the Moapa area. Originally the entire Moapa River watershed and lands along the Colorado River (some of which area is now under Lake Mead) was assigned to the Moapa; however, in 1875 their reservation was reduced to 1,000 acres (4.0 km2).

They later suffered from decimation by disease in the 1920s and 1930s.

In 1941, they organized with a formal constitution. In 1980 the Moapa River reservation was expanded, with about 75,000 acres (300 km2) added.

High rates of unemployment have plagued the reservation and caused some of the Moapa to relocate elsewhere.

An Excerpt From Hobo Jungle:

The name "Hobo" first started appearing in the early 1800's. Before the Civil War many hoboes had taken to the rails as a way of life. Around the time of the Civil War, railroads were being built a an astonishing rate and in the early 1870's there were between 50,000 and 60,000 miles of track interwoven throughout the United States. During the early days late 1880's a depressed economy was certainly prevalent, times were hard and hoboes took to the rails in great numbers, hitchhikers were also increasing, nobody had any money to go anywhere and pay the ticket to get there. By the 1930's this had grown to about 241,000 miles of track and the trains were running to all the bustling markets, Chicago, Michigan and from all points south to move raw goods to the industrial northern areas, hauling cattle grain and everything else imaginable. Some during the early days would say that the hobo was one into doing a lot of bad things, stealing and you name it., that they would derail trains and take over the entire train. But in the rural communities people would help them and give them jobs during the harvest time. Every hobo had a thing that he do real well, repair shoes, make wire fruit bowls and he sure could hoe a garden for a little something to eat. Many could play good music with a guitar or harmonica, or some other musical instruments. It was not uncommon to see a hobo standing in the rear of a house drinking a cup of coffee and eating a sandwich, standing up, then doing a little chore for the donor of the coffee and food. In around the time that World War 1 was raging and we were yet to join in the war, hoboes were running rampant, trying to get into a stable work force and maybe settle down and some did, but the number continued to grow.

By the 1920' the unsettling image was making a change , there were some very notable people that had rode the rails, among them Jack London, and author Carl Sandburg, they made it big in their field so many people took this to mean that there were some that had it all together and could make a go of it , without living around a bunch of trains. A clown made up as a hobo caught a lot of attention , what they really did was depict a way of life in America, some people could relate to that. During the Great Depression over 8,000 women & over 200,000 children rode the rails as well.

In 1932 the Bonus marchers arrived to pressure Hoover for their long awaited bonuses, and they were not the same as the hobo who was resourceful in making his way and not starving, he made it on the ability to get by, they improvised when the chips were down.. The center of the hobo life as the camp's or jungles, which were located wherever it was most convenient , preferably close to a railroad track. Generally on the sunny side of a hill near a source of water; and as close as as possible to the tracks. No real names were given, you used a moniker like Luther the Jet, Hobo Joe and Greenie, Cinder Box Cindy, Oklahoma Slim, Guitar Whitey, Mister Bojangles, Midwest John, Boxcar Willie (see story below), Gats, New York Maggie, Photo Boll, Pig Train, North Bank Fred, New York Ron, Liz Lump, Senator John Mc Claughry, There were certain rules, pots were left clean, no fellow hobo was to rob another one. ( who came into camp ) Thievery was to be kept to a minimum, maybe a piece of food taken or vegetables taken from a garden or something off the clothesline. There was to be no breaking into any house or threatening people, these were serious offenses and could bring death by a fellow hobo.