Another Boring Saturday: The Millenium arrives, the Roman Empire yields to the Visigoths, Mayan Civilization disappears, and I, Buster, take a walk!

My weltschmerz-addled countenance requires a brief respite from the Cares of the World.

Thus it is written, that I, Buster the Wonder Dawg, shall set forth upon a Pilgrimage to the Far Reaches of New Haven County, wandering for Forty Minutes and Forty Seconds upon the remains of a Jurassic volcano in search of Fortitude and Meaning.



I mounted my faithful Warhorse, the fabled blue Percheron of the Knights of Chrysler, accompanied by my dim-witted Squire-Lackey, the male humanoid.

"Whence goeth we?" I enquired.

"Follow your shadow," replied the Lackey.

Ah--the Pause that Refresheth!

We set out, lightly armed and on foot, along the shores of Lake Merimere. 'Twas frightful cold, and I hoped that the Dragon would remain in its cave. Maybe a scantily-clad Lady of the Lake would appear, bearing the Sword of my destiny, Exculpable.

Alas, she didn't.

We trod onward.

The Castle Perilous loomed, just on the other side of the Dragon's Breath...

This was an evil place, shape-shifting and fecund with the spirits of the long-dead. Many brave souls of the Order of Knights Chrysler had not returned from here. The undulating images of Fata Morgana reflected ill intent.

We encountered slabs of Holyoke Basalt, formed 200 million years ago, when the Dragon emerged in a giant lavaflow that ranged from just south of the Vermont border to Long Island Sound. It formed the Metacomet Ridge, and Connecticut has not been the same since.

Only a creature with foul, hot breath could do this kind of thing!

And there ahead lay the Castle Perilous, looming in stark relief against the sunset!

It was then that the Dragon suddenly overflew us, accompanied by his mate. I trembled.

It was, in fact, the most vile, dangerous species of dragon known in this region--the Evil Branta Canadensis! Nothing this powerful had been known to us since the departure of the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog.

A thousand fears flooded my brain. What if we encountered The Legendary Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh? Or, even worse, the Knights Who Say Ni?

"Lackey!" I cried. We are so out of here! I summoned Rocinante, collapsed into the saddle, and commanded her to head for the second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning. It was two long miles!

Whew! That was a close one. For my next adventure, I'll just have to remember...There's no place like home!


Your humble, churlish knave,

Buster

The Glacier Recedes, the Sun Returns, and Megafauna come back to Connecticut

My permafrost is melting!

Run, Toto!

It was fun while it lasted...

Winters at Varykino; bone-chilling cold and howling beasts.

The birches are starting to stand out against the green.

Wooly BusterBears and other strange megafauna return to the shadow of retreating ice.

Cacophonous Geese arrive at a nearby pond.

The Farmington Valley floods with the overflow.

My Personal Watch Tower stands strong on nearby Talcott Mountain.

The handiwork of the infamous Wukka-Wukka Bird (Pileated Woodpecker) appears.



And the Infamous Wukka-Wukka Bird appears--sort of...

(They're HARD to catch with a camera!)

And the frogs !!

Not pretty, huh?



I LOVE frawgz.

As does Buster!



Spring's here, Life is Good.

Cheers,

Bailey Blue

††† In Honor of St. Patrick's WHOLE day †††

In the GREAT Book of Kells, it is written, that the GREAT St. Patrick did come and consult with theBUSTER.
His query was, "What is the appropriate behaviour for celebration?"
theBUSTER did say,
in not so many words....
because this is supposed to be Wordless Wednesday....
"MMMMMMMMMgood!
Happy St.Paddy's Day to all, and to all


SLAINTE!!!!!!!"


theBUSTER, MS.Persephone, & Ms.Blue (Polite burp:..:...: )
†††
*******danger danger... if you see more then one glass of green Guinness at the top of this post... the celebration is over....
if you see theBUSTER and a glass of Guinness, you are in deep trouble...
if you see theBUSTER in a glass of Guinness...uh more than once -- you need to call a cab!
Now for the tricky part if you see ms. bailey blue in baileys....well the pawty's just begun!
®

Bailey Embarks upon a Singular Adventure and visits her Mom's Studio to Deliver Water

Bailey, your humble servant, at the keyboard...

It's Sunday, and today it was my distinct duty to bring relief to a suffering Artist, e.g., the human Mom-person, by personally delivering seventeen metric tons of water to her studio. Why would she need water? It seems that the studio is located in the dark, satanic mills of a decaying ax factory, and running water is not something that the designers of this Iron-Age structure contemplated.




Thus, I summoned my male, human-lackey Chauffer and embarked upon the perilous journey in the PT Cruiser.

In homage to St. Patrick (whose blessed soul would protect me during the voyage), I wore my green Shamrock collar. Buster usually asks St. Guinness for protection, but safety is not a major concern for him.



We set out, equipped with many jugs of water in the back and Mozart on the CD player.

Frankly, I was terrified! Embarking upon such a circumnavigation in a PT Cruiser is rather like navigating the North Atlantic in a coracle.

There were hostile natives driving war-vehicles with quintessential New England hostility. I closed my eyes and focused upon the Mozart piano concerto!

We passed wild rivers flowing at frightening velocity!

I shuddered and moved onward--after all Brendan the Navigator left County Kerry in a small boat and made it to Newfoundland and south to Florida. He must have been crazy or inebriated.

There were curious sights that I would subsequently have trouble describing to others without being thought mad...





At last, we approached the fabled ax factory! The River Styx raged, and I began to have a very bad feeling about this. Would Charon the Boatman appear out of the mist to ferry us across?

At last, we sailed under the ancient railroad bridge and entered the belly of the beast!

My warm-and-cozy studio-within-a-studio awaited! It was time for a nap!



Stay tuned for the next adventure: St. Patty's Day!

Your faithful correspondent,

Bailey Blue, Art Diva

Sunlight Comes to the BusterWorld Theme Park: Portents of Spring and the Antipation of Mud

Oh, Joy ! It's Mud Season! And it came to pass that serendipitously, Kerry Blue Terriers were created with just the right color! It's hard to hide the fact that an airedale has been tunneling beneath the permafrost in search of the earth's core. But with us, ya have to take a real close look to notice anything different!



The day started with the Gathering of the Pack in the Back "40"...

Bailey, as always, was up for some serious mud-diving.



Princess Persephone, the Doyenne of Divadom, was on hand to prepare high tea indoors. On this particular weekend, the thought of mud brought supreme metaphysical conflicts. She dreamt of foie gras and sorbet.




I first patrolled the deck to ensure that it was clear of itinerant chipmunks.




The worn bench had not faired well, covered in snow all winter! I tested its Buster-holding power and munched on one of my recently dug-up Wilsons.




The prospect of some serious bamboo-diving presented itself. It was time to discover what lurked in the grove!

I ordered up a steak from the male human lackey. London Broil. I insisted that it be served rare!

Bailey and I surveyed the driveway for the possibility of a chipmunk dessert. It just wasn't happening!




But life was good, nevertheless. I decided to unearth the septic tank and sample the tastes to be found among unspeakable things in the back yard.



Le Sacre du printemps a commencé!


Your buddy,

Buster

The Wabbit Chronicles: in which Buster and Bailey rise to Meet the Challenge of the Scourge of Little Rodents and Birds among us.

So I was thinking...
No, it didn't hurt!
I do have very intelligent thoughts upon occasion you know.
To get back to this thinking thing... I was thinking about all the squeaky little rodents
that are all around us....all of the time.
Also thinking of all the pesky birds
that fly in and out of our yard harassing us.
They are always dropping sticks on our heads... tweeting at us all of the time.

I woke Ms.Blue up to tell her about my thoughts of birds and such.. she said,
"we must remove them...one by one ... or two by two.
Whichever works, and relocate them somewhere else.
We will have to patrol the yard -- the house -- everywhere -- even the car!
These rodents and birds seem to be coming out of the woodwork around here!"

Yes Sir.. I mean Ma'am.. I am ever ready.
HAH!
I've got one!
it's still wiggling!
I have him in my punishing jaws... throttling him to an inch of his little bunny tail --
or
is that tale?
What do I do with him???? he's still wiggling around and tickling my tongue!
I don't want to squeeze to hard ya know.

Hey BUSTER!
I've got one of those pesky birds!
It was flapping around in the house -- it's a poor peasant pheasant, hungry and far far away from home.
I think he's lost.....BUSTER!!!!!
He's looking for a spot to hole up until the spring thaw.
Maybe we need to rethink this idea of patroling the yard to remove the rodents and pesky pheasants and other feathery sorts.

You mean we shouldn't have hassenpfeffer for dinner????
or pheasant under glass????
or mole soup????

Uh... BUSTER, I think,
we need to think more about what we think we should do.
What do think about that?
I think I'll sleep on it and make the decision tomorrow.... after all tomorrow is another day!

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

more to come!
B