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Post by along-for-the-ride »

Wandrin;1461165 wrote: I hope the person didn't wait for a response from Abby before looking or getting her help.


Evidently, since her father had diabetes, she did know what to do immediately. ;)
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

AnneBoleyn;1461013 wrote: Nice couple of kids. :-)


Thank you, Anne. Sometimes we feel like kids. :-4
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Post by FourPart »

Diabetes is one thing I find worrying because of there being 2 very different types - Hypo & Hyper Glycemic (one being too much sugar & the other not being enough, I believe).

As far as I'm aware, in an emergency they can both show the same symptoms, and where with one, some chocolate can't save them, whereas with the other it could kill them.

To my own shame, it's one of those things that I simply don't know enough about & what I should do if faced with such an emergency. I must ask myself if I should risk taking some action, which has a 50-50 chance of saving them or killing them, or do nothing. It's a poser at the best of times, but in the high-stress of an emergency situation, it's even worse.

I had my First Aider Certificate many years ago, and have even had to apply CPR in a real Life or Death situation - something that cause me sleepless nights for weeks afterwards, but I've never been comfortable in how to deal with a Diabetic Coma.
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

To be suddenly diagnosed with diabetes as I was, sure was a wake-up call for me. I'm not one of those who constantly visited the doctor's office or hospital, so this is new to me. My check-up Friday was good, but I still need to see him again in a couple of months and have my eyes checked. Every morning, I still have to check my blood sugar.

I guess, you are never too old to learn something.

That said, today is my birthday and I'm going to add this song, as it does apply to me today. :D



The song is sung by a young man to his lover, and is about his plans of growing old together with her. Although the theme is ageing, it was one of the first songs McCartney wrote, when he was only 16.
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Post by LarsMac »

Well happy birthday!!

That was the theme for my birthday this year, as well.

Has a whole new meaning, now that when we first heard, does it not?

And Diabetes is not THAT bad. At least type 2 isn't.

Get more exercise and manage your diet. It's amazing how much sugar you can cut from a diet without really suffering. And all those cheap starches, too.

Quality over quantity. Make every treat count.
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

LarsMac;1461272 wrote: Well happy birthday!!

That was the theme for my birthday this year, as well.

Has a whole new meaning, now that when we first heard, does it not?

And Diabetes is not THAT bad. At least type 2 isn't.

Get more exercise and manage your diet. It's amazing how much sugar you can cut from a diet without really suffering. And all those cheap starches, too.

Quality over quantity. Make every treat count.


Thank you, LarsMac! :)

No, diabetes type 2 is not really so bad. Just a reminder to take better care of myself.
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Post by Wandrin »

Happy Birthday!
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

Wandrin;1461279 wrote: Happy Birthday!


Thanks, Wandrin! :)
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

When the carnival came to town:

Carnival life: Peeking ‘behind the Ferris wheel’ – CNN Photos - CNN.com Blogs
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

That's life................

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Post by Wandrin »

along-for-the-ride;1461490 wrote: That's life................


Nice road, whatever the destination!
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Post by FourPart »

Or lead away from bad ones.
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Post by LarsMac »

Sometimes, the road IS the destination.
The home of the soul is the Open Road.
- DH Lawrence
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Post by Wandrin »

LarsMac;1461514 wrote: Sometimes, the road IS the destination.


True dat!
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

The young lady on the far left of this photo was my paternal grandmother. The girl in the front of the Harley was my Aunt Gertrude. Photo was taken in the early 20's in Arkansas.

You go girls!

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"And hate the bright stillness of the noon

without wind, without motion.

the only other living thing

a hawk, hungry for prey, suspended

in the blinding, sunlit blue.

And yet how gentle it seems to someone

raised in a landscape short of rain—

the skyline of a hill broken by no more

trees than one can count, the grass,

the empty sky, the wish for water."

- Dana Gioia, California Hills in August

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Post by FourPart »

Yesterday, due to the extended period of sun (probably along with the intervention of kids in the Summer holidays playing with matches) the entire shoreline outside my place was ablaze. In all there were at least 5 engines called out, as well as the Paramedics on standby. The whole field went up like a tinderbox & took well over an hour to bring under control. The smoke was so dense that at one point I was expecting that we were going to be evacuated.

Then, ever since this afternoon it's been peeing down (and a tropical storm forecast for Sunday).
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

Just some more photos from our recent vacation:

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DEAR ABBY: It disturbs me greatly that we keep reading about parents leaving their children in cars, whether it be absentmindedness, stress or downright intentional. It needs to stop.

I'm hoping car manufacturers can come up with an idea -- maybe a sensor that once the doors are closed and locked, should there be motion or a sound in the vehicle, the windows would automatically open, giving a passer-by a chance to see inside and maybe save a precious life. -- FRUSTRATED BY "PREMATURE" ANGELS

DEAR FRUSTRATED: You are not the only one who is disturbed by these recent tragedies. They are on the minds of a lot of people lately. Today's mail brought a suggestion from another reader who is hoping to put an end to the loss of these fragile young lives. A mother in Westland, Michigan, offered this:

DEAR ABBY: I have a suggestion for parents. Talk to your children when they are in the car with you. I always carried on a conversation, sang or counted to my kids, even newborns, and continued through the years they were rear-facing and forward-facing. It helped them to learn their ABCs, count, and even know where streets were. It was also a running reminder that someone very special was with me. I never listened to the radio, unless it was nursery rhymes on DVD or toddler songs. It not only helped me teach my children, but it also made driving fun and safe for the tiny passengers in my car. -- D.W.K.

READERS: A nonprofit group called KidsAndCars suggests that parents "place something they will need (when exiting the vehicle), such as a cellphone, handbag or briefcase, near the child in the back seat. Or keep a large stuffed animal in the child's car seat when it's not occupied. When the child is in the car seat, place the stuffed animal in the front passenger seat as a reminder that the child is in the back.

"And tell the child's day care center or baby sitter that they will always be called if your child isn't coming in as scheduled. If the child is absent without an explanation, the day care center or baby sitter is expected to contact a parent or another designated caregiver."

I would not recommend an automatic device because it could fail.

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Post by FourPart »

Dust In The Wind has always been on of my favourites.

This is one of Sungha Jung playing it on his Harp-Ukulele (an instrument I've never seen anyone but him playing - I don't know if it's even a 'real' instrument or one he had made to his own design).

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Post by along-for-the-ride »

Thanks, FourPart!



I had been looking for this song for a long time. I could remember only a few of the lyrics and did not know the singer's name.
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The stoplight celebrates its centennial - MSN Autos

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Post by FourPart »

From BBC - Nottingham - History - The man who gave us traffic lights

An explosive end

It would take three years before the plan was implemented but on 9 December 1868 the world's first traffic lights were installed at the junction of Great George Street and Bridge Street in the London borough of Westminster, close to Westminster Bridge.

Policemen would stand next to the signals all day in order to operate them.

It was an immediate success. Knight confidently predicted more signals would appear in the centre of London.

But a month into the project disaster struck. One evening a leaky gas mains resulted in one of the traffic lights exploding in the face of the policeman who was operating them. He was badly burnt.

The project, so enthusiastically greeted, was immediately dropped.
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

Thanks for the extra bit of history, FourPart. :)



Today, let's go bird-watching.

Glorious birds: The original miracle of flight - CNN.com
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Have you ever noticed that when something is efficient, be it in Nature or Man Made, it has an additional look of beauty about it.
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Today, an art gallery of sorts..............



Ladies in green dresses ;)

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Marionettes....................................... .............pull my string :)





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A companion piece to my previous post:

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Let's go on another train ride:

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along-for-the-ride;1462664 wrote: Let's go on another train ride:




Nice train ride! How did I miss that one?

The accent of the train personnel reminded me of something.

A Tennessee state trooper pulled over a pickup truck with a UT bumper sticker. He asked the driver, "Got any ID?"

The driver replied, " 'Bout what?"
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

A Tennessee state trooper pulled over a pickup truck with a UT bumper sticker. He asked the driver, "Got any ID?"

The driver replied, " 'Bout what?" :wah:



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Post by along-for-the-ride »

The lovely lady with the bicycles was my Mom. :-4

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DEAR ABBY: I am a woman in my 50s. My sister, who is also in her 50s, lives with me and has for several years. Could you please settle a dispute we are having?

She says that mail is private and when I bring my mail in from the mailbox, I should leave hers in the box. I say it is just common courtesy to bring all of it in at once and place it in a predetermined spot for the recipient. I am not saying that mail is not private, because it is. And I would never dream of opening anyone's mail, but don't you have to look at the envelope to know which person it belongs to?

So what do you think? Should it be left in the box or should I bring it all in? -- STUMPED SISTER IN HOUSTON

DEAR SISTER: I think what you have been doing is both wise and prudent. Unless the mailbox has a lock on it, I would recommend bringing all the mail into the house as soon as possible after it's delivered to prevent theft. However, because your sister is sensitive about it and asked that you leave it in the box for her to retrieve, you should do as she has requested



Some people just enjoy the ritual of walking down to the mailbox to get their own mail. ;)

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Post by FourPart »

Why Men don't make good Agony Aunt's...

Dear Uncle John,

This morning I went to work in my brand new Porsche that my husband had bought for my Birthday, but after I had gone less than a couple of miles it starting spewing thick black smoke from the exhaust, so I had to turn round to go pick up the faithful old Lexus instead.

However, when I got home I found my husband in bed with the Maid.

What should I do?

Anon.



Dear Anon,

It sound very much like your problem is with the carburetor. I would recommend you take it to an authorised Porsche dealer for a General Service & tune-up. You can't be too careful with such things.

Uncle John
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

:wah:





:guitarist
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Got a minute? Let's visit New York city...........................

New Hyperlapse app will make you queasy - CNN.com Video



;)
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

The Return

Written by: Philip Levine

All afternoon my father drove the country roads

between Detroit and Lansing. What he was looking for

I never learned, no doubt because he never knew himself,

though he would grab any unfamiliar side road

and follow where it led past fields of tall sweet corn

in August or in winter those of frozen sheaves.

Often he'd leave the Terraplane beside the highway

to enter the stunned silence of mid-September,

his eyes cast down for a sign, the only music

his own breath or the wind tracking slowly through

the stalks or riding above the barren ground. Later

he'd come home, his dress shoes coated with dust or mud,

his long black overcoat stained or tattered

at the hem, sit wordless in his favorite chair,

his necktie loosened, and stare at nothing. At first

my brothers and I tried conversation, questions

only he could answer: Why had he gone to war?

Where did he learn Arabic? Where was his father?

I remember none of this. I read it all later,

years later as an old man, a grandfather myself,

in a journal he left my mother with little drawings

of ruined barns and telephone poles, receding

toward a future he never lived, aphorisms

from Montaigne, Juvenal, Voltaire, and perhaps a few

of his own: "He who looks for answers finds questions."

Three times he wrote, "I was meant to be someone else,"

and went on to describe the perfumes of the damp fields.

"It all starts with seeds," and a pencil drawing

of young apple trees he saw somewhere or else dreamed.

I inherited the book when I was almost seventy

and with it the need to return to who we were.

In the Detroit airport I rented a Taurus;

the woman at the counter was bored or crazy:

Did I want company? she asked; she knew every road

from here to Chicago. She had a slight accent,

Dutch or German, long black hair, and one frozen eye.

I considered but decided to go alone,

determined to find what he had never found.

Slowly the autumn morning warmed, flocks of starlings

rose above the vacant fields and blotted out the sun.

I drove on until I found the grove of apple trees

heavy with fruit, and left the car, the motor running,

beside a sagging fence, and entered his life

on my own for maybe the first time. A crow welcomed

me home, the sun rode above, austere and silent,

the early afternoon was cloudless, perfect.

When the crow dragged itself off to another world,

the shade deepened slowly in pools that darkened around

the trees; for a moment everything in sight stopped.

The wind hummed in my good ear, not words exactly,

not nonsense either, nor what I spoke to myself,

just the language creation once wakened to.

I took off my hat, a mistake in the presence

of my father's God, wiped my brow with what I had,

the back of my hand, and marveled at what was here:

nothing at all except the stubbornness of things.

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"The breezes taste

Of apple peel.

The air is full

Of smells to feel-

Ripe fruit, old footballs,

Burning brush,

New books, erasers,

Chalk, and such.

The bee, his hive,

Well-honeyed hum,

And Mother cuts

Chrysanthemums.

Like plates washed clean

With suds, the days

Are polished with

A morning haze. "

- John Updike, September
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

Hubby's paternal grandparents.

They both passed away before I met them, but Hubby has spoken of them on occasion.. Both were hard working country folks. She wore an apron on which she had her spending money pinned in a handkerchief. He always drank his coffee from the saucer instead of the cup.

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Post by AnneBoleyn »

Who painted those lovely masterpieces? Sensitive and lovely! Good job.
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along-for-the-ride;1463272 wrote: Got a minute? Let's visit New York city...........................;)


That's what it feels like, it's really a fast paced environment. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Prefer strolling. No rush.
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Post by along-for-the-ride »

AnneBoleyn;1463623 wrote: Who painted those lovely masterpieces? Sensitive and lovely! Good job.


Hubby at one time worked as a guard for the state prison. One of the inmates painted those pictures from photos he was given. Whoever he was, he did have talent.
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Post by LarsMac »

AnneBoleyn;1463624 wrote: That's what it feels like, it's really a fast paced environment. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Prefer strolling. No rush.


I enjoy walking in the City. I set my own pace, and let the City go on all around me. I miss New York, sometimes.
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