I Want Yummy Goldfish

The battle between man and nature continues. A neigbor tipped me off that trouble was in the air after she suffered an attack on her prized Koi by an unidentified predator. I immediatley threw the wire mesh over my pond. In the past, attacks on my goldfish came in the spring and I keep the mesh on during that time. This is late summer. The next morning, glancing out on the patio, this is what I saw.

hmmm, plump and gold, just the way I like them








Only feet from the pond, he was making his breakfast selection. Marilyn and I had glimpsed him before but I never had time to photograph the culprit.

I wonder if my head will fit through that mesh?








After a few shots through the door, I stepped out on the patio. He just looked at me and slowly moved away.

I'll just walk around the pool until he goes back in.








This was one brazen bird (or really, really hungry). We continued the photo shoot for another minute or two until he figured he might have better luck at the neigbor's pond.

I'm outta here

Don't Rock the Boat

Marilyn and I spent the Labor Day weekend at the cabin. We were hoping to see "Ronnie and the Classics" at the Hon Dah Casino. They've performed there the past two years on Labor Day. This year the "BB Drifters Review" was performing in the lounge. They weren't bad, but they're no "Ronnie and the Classics". The entertainment is free and the drinks are cheap so you can't go too far wrong no matter who's performing.


Ronnie and the Classics







The next day, we drove over to Show Low Lake. We hadn't been there for a few years. The last time, we rented an electric boat and peacefully toured the lake. We were disappointed to find that the electric boats were gone. The attendant told us they got rid of them because in a strong wind, people couldn't get back to the dock. All the gas powered boats
were rented out, but they did have one canoe. We took it. I hope a strong wind doesn't come up.


"Are you
paddling?"

Good Bye Old Red

After ten years in the saddle I said goodbye to Old Red. I know it's just a machine, but there's a certain sadness in watching a stranger drive it out of your driveway and down the road never to be seen again. You've cared for it, fixed it when it broke, and it rewarded you by carrying you wherever you wanted to go for years. Maybe there's no reason to develop an attachment to a chunk of metal, but it happens.