The buffalos have Landedbut the gypsies left their cart!
Beware - Buffalo Gore!
Alien Lander Offloading Sheep -but not in Merrimac!
Grandma Gerry tells Sophie about her trip to Rome
We stay at least 20 feet from the fence and carefully inspect the herd.
“Well, here’s the home where the buffalo roam!” I observe to my Mom.
“You’re right about Rome,” Grandma Gerry replies.
“What about Rome?” I ask in a louder voice.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” she non-sequiturs back.
“Mom, you need a hearing aid!” I expostulate for the 5th time today.
“What would I do with a hearing aid?” she asks indignantly.
“Put in in your ear,” I tell her.
“But how would I ever find it?” she asks plaintively.
“Good point!” I concede.
At night I go out with my neighbor Bruce for some star gazing. We are checking out Cancer and the bee-yewtiful Beehive Cluster. Mars is right next to it. I'm looking at Mars with my binoculars when all of a sudden, this really bright object goes booking across the sky right where I'm looking.
"What's that," I ask Bruce.
"Too fast to be a plane," he replies. "It must be a satellite."
We follow it along for a minute or two until it passes into the Earth's shadow and vanishes. Then we head to the back yard to check out Hercules.
"Don't look now," says Bruce, "but here comes another one."
Sure enough, another satellite is passing through Hercules - headed for Vega . We check out Saturn and I identify Procyon in the Little Dog. And just as we turn to go in for a nightcap, darned if another satellite crosses our path! Three satellites in one evening! It's a shower of satellites.
"I wonder," I ask Bruce. "Are these satellites or visitors from outer space headed for some alien get together?"
Beware - Buffalo Gore!
Alien Lander Offloading Sheep -but not in Merrimac!
Grandma Gerry tells Sophie about her trip to RomeMay 6 (Recess Day 6) and my Mom is visiting from Boulder, Colorado.
She's 82 and it’s raining so we decide to go to a museum.
I pick the Buttonwoods Museum in Haverhill. I’ve never been before, but it googles up nicely, so we head over.
A delightful lady volunteer gives us a tour of the grounds. My Mom listens patiently. She’s a little hard of hearing but it’s a private tour and Mom is not shy about asking our tour guide to speak up. The guide explains that in 1632 when the first dozen English arrived in what would later be Haverhill, they rowed their boat ashore at the site of a ceremonial tree that was maintained by two middle-aged bachelor Indians. They were the only two inhabitants, as the rest of their village had succumbed to the smallpox and other alien diseases. The natives signed a treaty with the twelve Brit boatmen and the town of Haverhill was founded.
The aboriginal American inhabitants, called the Penacooks, are long gone, as are the first settlers. But guess what, that Indian ceremonial TREE is still alive. It’s awesome standing beside this ancient tree and gazing across the Merrimack River. I feel like I'm transported back in time 370 years to a land and a culture that existed before the Europeans. What a blessing.
On the way back Mom and I decide to follow the road along the river instead of taking the highway. I’m still in tree-revery mode as our aging Pontiac chugs up a hill just before entering Merrimac, Mass. As we crest the rise, on our left about 30 feet away is a herd of bison. Real honest to God buffalo. Seven adults and a bee-yewtiful baby bison. They’re in a small field, gathered around an ancient gypsy cart on wheels - like the one from the beginning of the Wizard of Oz. The gypsies have absconded for the day and the cart itself is filled with chickens.
I pull the car to a halt. "Whoa Nellie," I think. "The buffalo have landed." And I start to laugh.(I just can't help myself - what a weird and marvelous planet we live on! A wolf in Maudslay State Park earlier this week and now a herd of bison in Merrimac.
We get out of the car and walk down a dirt road to get a better view.
A farmhand in a truck passes us slowly and brakes to a halt.
“Don’t get too close to those buffalos,“ admonishes the driver.
“We’ll be careful,” I reply
“Stay at least 10 feet back from the electric fence,” he yells cheerfully as he drives away. “The owner was gored twice last week!”
As he vanishes in a cloud of dust, I think to myself:
“Twice? Once I can understand. But how does one manage to get gored twice? What must Mrs. Buffalo Owner be thinking?”
She's 82 and it’s raining so we decide to go to a museum.
I pick the Buttonwoods Museum in Haverhill. I’ve never been before, but it googles up nicely, so we head over.
A delightful lady volunteer gives us a tour of the grounds. My Mom listens patiently. She’s a little hard of hearing but it’s a private tour and Mom is not shy about asking our tour guide to speak up. The guide explains that in 1632 when the first dozen English arrived in what would later be Haverhill, they rowed their boat ashore at the site of a ceremonial tree that was maintained by two middle-aged bachelor Indians. They were the only two inhabitants, as the rest of their village had succumbed to the smallpox and other alien diseases. The natives signed a treaty with the twelve Brit boatmen and the town of Haverhill was founded.
The aboriginal American inhabitants, called the Penacooks, are long gone, as are the first settlers. But guess what, that Indian ceremonial TREE is still alive. It’s awesome standing beside this ancient tree and gazing across the Merrimack River. I feel like I'm transported back in time 370 years to a land and a culture that existed before the Europeans. What a blessing.
On the way back Mom and I decide to follow the road along the river instead of taking the highway. I’m still in tree-revery mode as our aging Pontiac chugs up a hill just before entering Merrimac, Mass. As we crest the rise, on our left about 30 feet away is a herd of bison. Real honest to God buffalo. Seven adults and a bee-yewtiful baby bison. They’re in a small field, gathered around an ancient gypsy cart on wheels - like the one from the beginning of the Wizard of Oz. The gypsies have absconded for the day and the cart itself is filled with chickens.
I pull the car to a halt. "Whoa Nellie," I think. "The buffalo have landed." And I start to laugh.(I just can't help myself - what a weird and marvelous planet we live on! A wolf in Maudslay State Park earlier this week and now a herd of bison in Merrimac.
We get out of the car and walk down a dirt road to get a better view.
A farmhand in a truck passes us slowly and brakes to a halt.
“Don’t get too close to those buffalos,“ admonishes the driver.
“We’ll be careful,” I reply
“Stay at least 10 feet back from the electric fence,” he yells cheerfully as he drives away. “The owner was gored twice last week!”
As he vanishes in a cloud of dust, I think to myself:
“Twice? Once I can understand. But how does one manage to get gored twice? What must Mrs. Buffalo Owner be thinking?”
We stay at least 20 feet from the fence and carefully inspect the herd.
“Well, here’s the home where the buffalo roam!” I observe to my Mom.
“You’re right about Rome,” Grandma Gerry replies.
“What about Rome?” I ask in a louder voice.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” she non-sequiturs back.
“Mom, you need a hearing aid!” I expostulate for the 5th time today.
“What would I do with a hearing aid?” she asks indignantly.
“Put in in your ear,” I tell her.
“But how would I ever find it?” she asks plaintively.
“Good point!” I concede.
At night I go out with my neighbor Bruce for some star gazing. We are checking out Cancer and the bee-yewtiful Beehive Cluster. Mars is right next to it. I'm looking at Mars with my binoculars when all of a sudden, this really bright object goes booking across the sky right where I'm looking.
"What's that," I ask Bruce.
"Too fast to be a plane," he replies. "It must be a satellite."
We follow it along for a minute or two until it passes into the Earth's shadow and vanishes. Then we head to the back yard to check out Hercules.
"Don't look now," says Bruce, "but here comes another one."
Sure enough, another satellite is passing through Hercules - headed for Vega . We check out Saturn and I identify Procyon in the Little Dog. And just as we turn to go in for a nightcap, darned if another satellite crosses our path! Three satellites in one evening! It's a shower of satellites.
"I wonder," I ask Bruce. "Are these satellites or visitors from outer space headed for some alien get together?"
"Could be a big night for alien abductions," he replies.
"Call it a night?"
"You bet!"
Buffalos, wolves, space-alien abductors, and 400 year old Indian trees.
Not to mention the Oz cart and all those gypsy chickens!
"Call it a night?"
"You bet!"
Buffalos, wolves, space-alien abductors, and 400 year old Indian trees.
Not to mention the Oz cart and all those gypsy chickens!
All in a day's play for daktari!
DAKTARI
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