Saturday, October 31, 2009

A Daring Voyage of Discovery... in which Captain Buster sets out in search of New Latitudes, Botanical Wonders, and Exotic Natives

It was a dark and dreary day with winter approaching in the Northern Latitudes.
Our gargoyle expressed his feelings on the subject of rain.




At the request of the Royal Society, I took command of HM Bark Endeavour and proceeded South in search of breadfruit, naked girls, and paradise.

You know this sounds familiar...have I sailed these waters before? This sailing ship certainly rides rather smooth. Hmmmm



It was an arduous voyage. The passage through the Roaring '40's was fraught with danger. But I maintained my watch on the Quarterdeck and tried to keep the up the spirits of my distraught navigator...

Who worried about the turbulent sea of black water that flowed for miles in front of him. His knuckles were white with fear.... uh...why is that guy ahead of us stopping in the middle of the ocean?



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We traveled many thousands of leagues, each day darkened by the imminent onset of a long, cold winter.

As we sailed through the icy winds, water spewed up on the sheets creating a lovely pattern of sparkling ice... Sort of like a giant snowflake...hmmmm now that sounds like one pretty thing to catch on your tongue.

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At last, we reached an exotic island and my demeanor improved as I disembarked to explore!

A gust of wind blew my beard to the side as I began to explore the beach of yellow, red, and brown sand......uh, maybe that was leaves, I distinctly remember leaves. Yes yes...it is leaves.


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What a strange place this was! There was a sign asserting that dogs must be on leash! Where I come from, dogs run free and possess human servants.


Who are these city code people...Fie, fie on you, I pee on your post...so there!



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So this is the fabled Quinnipiac River Gorge. I had learned of this place in school. There were stories of giant airedales and volcanoes that spew forth tennis balls--and long, evening barbecues. Well, at least it appeared pleasing to the eye!


So how do you like that visual??? huh?? Volcanoes spewing forth tennis balls -- I dream of this every night!




There was a long, straight path that descended into the forest. Mustering what courage that I could, I followed it.


Trudge • trudge • trudge....through the yellow, orange and red sand I trudged at least 50 leagues through the colorful sand, hauling my human lackey behind me.



You know...these humans need to be walked every day. Life on the ship just doesn't lend itself to such exercise. This guy is way heavy--maybe I'll tie him to a post and pick him up on the way back.


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I've discovered the rare red, uh bush in the brush. I will now bestow upon thee a name.

With the Power of the Blue Dog of Ireland, I now dub thee with the name that will go down in history..........it is............

"Rare Red Bush"



AHaH, natives...these are the infamous New Englanders. Notice the blue legs and skirt. I must get closer to document this for my colleagues at the Royal Society.



Avast! 'Tis the horrid Zone of Falling Rocks! Scylla and Charybdis are a cake-walk compared with this! Serendipitously, the ancient pagan gods conferred upon us Kerry Blues nerves of steel. These were granted at the expense of some gray matter, but curiosity is a wondrous thing.


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I must conduct my standard urinal-fitness inspection!

Aha! A river flowing into the Interior! Maybe I'll meet happy, scantily-clad natives in dugout canoes!




Or maybe I'll have to be content with seventeen metric tons of maple leaves floating downstream.


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There! The Pillars of Hercules! Or maybe the Horns of Satan! Anyone who says this is an old bridge foundation lacks imagination.




I am unscathed.

Well, suppose I survived the wrath of the Horns of the Evil one!

I am not toast!

Onward!




What's with these mile markers? I've trudged at least 25 leagues now--can't they keep accurate records? We explorers just don't comprehend this mile thing ...it's "Leagues!" As in 20,000 Leagues Under the Compost Heap.

Just how long is a league?




Well now, we're back to the ship, getting ready to sail with the tide. My tongue is at least a yard long, and I could use some rum to wet my whistle. Lackey! Where is my cask?





I want my rum ration NOW! After all, I am the Captain of this ship.... Can't you see that my tongue is going to fall out of my head?





I feel better now -- I must now take a small nap...


Hey Hey.. we're back home. Oh my, the larch looks a little droopy, I think I should water it before it loses all its leaves.



There's no place like home. Even Mr. Larch is all disheveled and looking sort of like he needs a haircut--like me. That will be another day, another adventure.

Signing off,

theBUSTER

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Tuesday, October 27, 2009

"This ecstasy doth unperplex" -- in which Buster receives a fresh supply of his cherished Wilsons.

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Wilson
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilson were Paradise enow!

The Rubaiyat of Buster Khayyam





Where to begin?



Few things in life evoke unrestrained ecstasy. Among them: raw beef bones, the Bach partitas for unaccompanied violin, and shiny, new Wilsons!



Thus it was ordained--that I, Buster, the altogether likable and deserving, should receive from my Mom a fresh supply of brand new, not previously-owned, Wilsons.



It had been so long since my cache of yellow gold had been replenished, and most of my very favorites had turned brown from leaf-mold and the accumulated rain of a torrential summer.



So Phase I of the Official Distribution of Wilsons began in the usual way:


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It was my misfortune to have to compete with that aggressive little wolf-child, Bailey, for MY Wilsons! She torments me as the Great White Whale did Ahab.



It's all in the nose, you know. Like the smell of a new car! Rather rubbery and synthetic, but reassuring in an odd way. Wilsons have a distinctive scent that, like wine, is improved with a certain amount of aging and saliva!



Round Two: The Evil B_t_h Bailey goes into Wilson-Diva mode while I relegate myself to a remote corner with my precious orb, muttering something like "oh, my precious, oh my precious!" My human sister's flute in the background didn't help; it affects Bailey in the same way that it would a cobra in a basket.


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What's a dapper boy-dog to do? She's stealing my show, raining on my parade, masticating my Wilsons!




The final insult: she covetously takes possession of ALL THREE and juggles them like a Cirque du Soleil clown, demonstrating an innate virtuosity of which I am not capable.



HUMILIATION !



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Two Wilsons in her paws, one in her mouth. There is ecstasy here, but it's hers, not mine! I'll chase the little devil round Good Hope, and round the Horn, and round the Norway Maelstrom, and round perdition's flames before I give my Wilsons up! Oops--wrong story, wrong century.




And as the sun sets, I, a chastened and humiliated Wonder Dawg, plot my revenge upon Bailey the
Über-thief!




Then again, I'll bet Mom has another stash of new Wilsons somewhere around! I'm just a little emotional these days. Where's Lucia?



G'night,


Buster







Wednesday, October 21, 2009

My Milkweed Collection--by Buster

Hi folks, I'd like to share my poofee-fuzzy friends with you.... I saw some parachuting along -- so I followed them.
These very strange pods hold millions of beeeeeUteefull delicate parachutes, that carry little bitty seeds on the breeze. Of course sooner or later they need to land -- and sometimes they land
on YOU!

I just think the way they are all lined up in their pod, is very nice.. warm....white fuzzeeez!


I've got to be careful they don't land on my tongue.. oh NO not my TONGUE~ !

Check this one out.. the little fluoofs are taking off from the mother pod, getting ready to float on the wind to a new spot....that needs milkweed pods.
HmmmmMMMMmmm wonder if they taste good. Might get to try one if I leave my tongue lollllling out a bit more.


Loooookie that.. they're all lined up just like the parachuters in the movies.. We're goin' down!
They're fluffy not stuffy, if one flies this way...............welllllllll.....My tongue wants to check these floooofs out realllllly badly.


Hey.. thanks for checking these little fella's out.. psssssssst I took one in the house and it PoPPed open -- does that mean I'll have a whole bunch of little baby milkweek podlings growing in the yard? I must check it out!


You know these things are going to be all over the placed, Ms.Blue wants to make a
scarf out of them so she can be fluffy like them. Maybe she'll be able to fly!!!

See how very soft and translucent these little podlings are. They need good homes, we'll try and catch you a really neat one..

Oops... this is a very strange looking one.. no pod. Hmmmm looks like something from the ocean.



Not milkweed! This is the seed pod of a wild clematis vine.


I am now a connoisseur of PODS....w/flooofy flying friends... HAH! Here's another of my flooofy flying friends..



Mallard reflecting upon the reflections..... ah welll I'm a bit tired.

I must sleep now, goodnight floofs......g'night all,


Happy dreams,

theBUSTER, Ms. Persephone, & Ms.Bailey Blue

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

First Frost

It's here. It's real. It's cold.



Makes ya want to eat raw meat and howl!


I LOVE Autumn! Lots of new scents in the air...little animals foraging...stuff keeling over dead everywhere. Makes a dog feel alive!



Milkweed pods! One of my very favorite things. Crunchy, messy, and good for the gums!



Frost on my Wilson! There's nothing like the taste of a cold, wet Wilson. And it splits in two much easier.



Frosted hosta--what a wonderful place to lift my leg!




And formations of Canadian Honkers carpet-bombing unsuspecting humans from a thousand feet up! It stimulates the imagination.



Miss Persephone shuffles about unamused.



Sumac! Nothing gets redder, except for Mom when she catches me grabbing a loaf of fresh bread off the stove!



Ms. Blue quietly rips the flesh off a coatimundi. She has talent.





A sugar maple blushes in front of the art school...



Ms. B. settles in for an autumnal power-nap...



Bittersweet berries turn bright orange and red, cracking with the frost.




And I, Buster the Wonder Dog, contemplate the wonders of Nature and my general good fortune to be a part of it. Last night, the Dad-Lackey took me for a walk, and I quickly detected the scent of VERMIN! With a single-minded intensity, I tracked the vile creature, never lifting my eyes from the ground. It was my destiny to find it, destroy it, and save Western Civilization! Unfortunately, my human servant caught sight of something galloping toward us but failed to warn me. He watched as Ms. Fox sat down fifteen feet away from my snuffling snout, cocked her head to one side, and observed me with detached curiosity. At length, she cocked her head to the other side, nodded sadly, and trotted off. I heard this second-hand, as I was busy tracking a fox. Dad said she was one hot young lady with a beautiful, bushy tail, and she was trying to flirt with me. I'll never know.

Ah, autumn!

G'night,

Buster


Friday, October 9, 2009

Season's End: Farewell to the Pond

Welllllll it's that time again... autumn in New England -- one last burst of colorful turbo energy flying around the pond. Every year about this time the humomm and dad go around and put everything away so the pond can take a rest for the winter. The boats come out of the water ------>

We don't quite understand why...we just know that it's too cold to swim and the pipes need to not have water in them.
and the dock needs to come out of the water too and take a nap until spring.
Oh yes and let's not forget the trees -- they get all warm and colorful -- and lose their leaves.

all over the flower gardens. The humomm says it's a colorful quilt of leaves, so the flowers can snooze until spring. We'll be back to see them.....bye lake, bye flowers....bye paddle boat.
Heavy sigh..........
zZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

On our way home we stopped at a farm stand and the humomm was all excited to see that they had swan gourds..... very strange gourds that have longy necks and a head like a swan. Of course they also had pumpkins (my favorite pie) so we got to pick some and bring them to our house.

We just thought everyone would like to see all the swan gourds tackling the pumpkins!

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OH NO.... I've gotta get home and find all of my Wilsons. I don't want the leaves to cover them all up -- I need to find them before the snows come -- they'll be soooooo very cold. More to come on the search......and also more on where are all the Wilsons.



So HAPPY AUTUMN/FALL to all our buddies. If you don't have orange and red trees at your house take a ride up to the mountains. This will be one very colorful weekend up this way.

Enjoy,
theBUSTER, reporting to you from the North Country..... soon to be under snow!


P.S. this little May flower is sooooo confused!! Check out the red leaf sitting next to it. I told it bye bye....see you in the spring!