Celebrating Book Lovers Day

Posted on by | No Comments

A young child sits on the floor in a warm, cozy library surrounded by tall shelves and stacks of books, reading an open book as soft light illuminates the scene.

A Lifetime of Reading

Book Lovers Day has arrived, and I’m claiming it proudly. The cats had their moment yesterday for International Cat Day, so today belongs to me and my books.

I’ve been a reader for as long as I can remember. I used to imagine myself living in a home with a grand library — towering shelves, a rolling ladder, leather chairs, a crackling fireplace, and warm reading lamps. A perfect retreat for losing myself in a good story.

Reality looks a little different. My tiny condo doesn’t have room for a sprawling library, so I’ve embraced digital reading. I still prefer the feel of a physical book, but I can’t deny the convenience of carrying hundreds of titles in one slim device. Travel is lighter, and choosing a book is as easy as tapping a screen.

The Joy of Retirement Reading

Retirement has given me the greatest gift: time. Time to read every day, time to revisit old favorites, and time to explore new authors. I still remember the first book I ever bought — I read it until it literally fell apart. Some habits never change.

My favorite authors remain steady: J.D. Robb, Iris Johansen, Catherine Coulter, Elizabeth Peters. This year I’ve added Janet Evanovich, whose books deliver crime, chaos, and laughter in equal measure.

New Discoveries and Old Favorites

I also have my eye on Five Hieroglyphs by Stephen T. Pearson, a book described as evoking the spirit of the Amelia Peabody adventures. Since that series is one of my all‑time favorites, I’m eager to give it a try.

At the moment, I’m re‑reading Catherine Coulter’s FBI series. Earlier this year I revisited the entire In Death series when Stolen in Death (Book 62) was released. With Fury in Death arriving on September 8, I may need to start another full‑series re‑read soon.

Happy Book Lovers Day

Happy Book Lovers Day 2026. May your TBR pile be tall, your reading time plentiful, and your stories unforgettable.

 

The Day I Met a Giant Jellyfish Off Cathedral Rocks

Posted on by | No Comments

A large jellyfish with a purple‑pink bell drifts through green murky water, its long translucent tentacles trailing behind it.

Why Cape Cod’s Lion’s Mane Jellyfish Made Me Remember

Hearing about the invasion of Lion’s Mane jellyfish on Cape Cod had me reminiscing. Remember, I’m old enough, so I’m allowed.

So let me tell you about the time I met what I now think might have been a Lion’s Mane jellyfish.

Cold, Murky New England Diving Conditions

I was scuba diving off Cathedral Rocks in Rockport.  The water is pretty deep there, and New England waters are never clear. It’s not like diving in the Caribbean where the water is warm and you can see for 100 feet or more. Diving up here, even in the summer, requires a ¼‑inch to 1/2 inch wetsuit for warmth. Visibility is 2–3 feet, if you’re lucky.

Losing Track of My Dive Buddy

The number one rule is to never dive alone. Hmmm… I’ve been known to ignore that rule, but not on this day. I had a dive buddy, but it was just the two of us, and I’d lost track of him.

Suspended at 65 Feet in Perfect Stillness

We were in deep water. I was floating at about 65 feet. I’d hit the sweet spot — perfect neutral buoyancy.

At that depth, there’s no top or bottom. The world becomes a vertical void. You can’t look up and see the surface, and you can’t look down and see the ocean floor. The only way to know which direction is “up” is by watching your bubbles rise.

Most sport diving happens in 25–40 feet of water, so you don’t usually get this effect. But at 65 feet, suspended in the water column, you feel like you’re hanging in space. I didn’t need to move. I could just float there, watching my bubbles drift upward and enjoying the stillness.

A Shape Appears in the Murk

While I was hanging there, looking for my dive buddy’s bubbles, I caught a glimpse of something in the murky water. It was just at the edge of my vision, and it was big. I don’t remember being afraid, just curious. So I stayed very still. What a feeling.

The Giant Jellyfish Emerges

Out of that murk, a huge jellyfish came floating toward me. The bell expanded and contracted like bellows. At the time I thought it was a moon jelly, but if so, it was the biggest one I’ve ever seen. It’s possible it was a Lion’s Mane.

In any case, it was an amazing moment — the stillness, the murky water, and the perfect balance that let me just hang there and watch this thing approach.

A Movie Moment Underwater

I remember thinking it was like watching a scene from a movie where the Blob emerges to terrify the unsuspecting protagonist — in this case, me. But I wasn’t terrified. I was fascinated.

The Unexpected Sting

As the creature floated past me, I felt a sting on my face just under my mask. I’d been tagged by a trailing tentacle. It was just a tiny gossamer thread. I didn’t even see it, but I felt it.

My wetsuit and mask protected me from all but that one tiny thread. I was lucky. If it was a Lion’s Mane, I could have been seriously stung, but it was just the one tentacle, and it left me with a vision I’ve cherished for years.

Why the Moment Stayed With Me

It was one of those things that makes the ocean special to me — not something you see or experience every day. Of course, I don’t want to get stung every day, but this was no worse than a bee sting on land. A moment’s annoyance to see such a beautiful creature in the wild.

Moon Jelly or Lion’s Mane — It Doesn’t Matter

Moon jelly or Lion’s Mane — it doesn’t matter to me. It was a mystical moment.

Note: These photos are amazing photos thaken by talented underwater photographers and posted on the internet. No copywrite info was available. My thanks to the folks that shared and posted these images.

Time to Celebrate Our Feline Companions with International Cat Day

Posted on by | No Comments

# 🐾 **WMEO BREAKING NEWS BULLETIN** We Meow. You Listen…

Two cats sit behind a newsroom-style anchor desk labeled “WMEO 9.” The orange cat and the black cat each have a sheet of paper in front of them, with a microphone centered between them. Behind the desk is a blurred cityscape and multiple monitors, creating the look of a professional news studio.
**Dateline: Taunton — August 8**
**Subject: International Cat Day Launches with Global #ThinkCAT Initiative**

This just in from the WMEO Newsroom:
Today is International Cat Day, and the world is celebrating with this year’s official theme — #ThinkCAT — a three‑part mission to help humans everywhere level up their feline care.

WMEO’s esteemed anchors, Banner and Balboa, have issued the following guidance from their respective command centers.

—

C — Cat Friendly

 

Banner, reporting from atop the newsroom printer (which he has declared a sovereign nation):
“Cat-friendly means predictable routines, quiet zones, and respect for our delicate emotional ecosystems. Also, stop moving chairs without notifying us.”

 

 

 

 

Balboa, speaking from inside his fortified cardboard bunker:
“Mobile vets count as cat-friendly. They come to *us*, which is correct. Please continue this policy.”

—

A — Annual Check-ups

WMEO Health Desk notes that cats are elite-level illness hiders.
Annual exams are essential — even if the exam requires… additional measures.

Balboa’s official statement:
“I must be medicated to survive my yearly physical. I do not apologize. I am simply built different.”

Banner adds:
“I personally enjoy performing my own check-ups by screaming at birds.”

—

T — Tips & Advice

Expert-backed guidance helps cats thrive from kittenhood to their senior years.
WMEO’s Science Desk encourages humans to stay informed, stay gentle, and stay stocked with treats.

Balboa’s tip

“Breakfast in bed. Every day. Forever.”

Balboa notes that this practice supports:

  • Reduced morning stress
  • Improved human compliance
  • Optimal biscuit‑making conditions
  • A smoother transition from Sleep Mode to Guardian Mode

He further clarifies that breakfast should be delivered directly to the box, bed, blanket fort, or designated soft zone, depending on the day’s emotional landscape.

Banner’s tip:
“If your cat stares at you from across the room, they are either admiring you or plotting. Both are valid.” Banner gooes on to respond to Balboa’s Breakfast tip: by demanding “second breakfast,” citing fairness.

 

—

How to Participate

WMEO encourages viewers to join the celebration:
– Highlight one Cat Friendly change you’ve made at home
– Remind friends to book their cats’ annual check-ups (mobile vets welcome and endorsed)
– Display the “Supporting International Cat Day 2026” badge proudly

—

WMEO Editorial Note:

Banner has proposed turning International Cat Day into a federally recognized holiday.
Balboa has proposed snacks.

End of bulletin. Please resume your regularly scheduled scrolling.

 

 

Beavers in the Sky (With Parachutes)

Posted on by | No Comments

A cartoon beaver wearing black sunglasses parachutes through a partly cloudy sky. The yellow parachute above it reads “Idaho or Bust” with a small blue silhouette of Idaho. A flat, golden-brown landscape stretches below, creating a humorous, adventurous scene.

The Beaver vs Human Conundrum

Growing up in New England, we had a beaver colony on our property that turned our backyard into a yearly battleground. The beavers kept damming a small brook and flooding the area, and my mother — armed with determination and whatever tools she could grab — kept tearing the dam down. The beavers rebuilt. She tore it down again. They rebuilt faster. This went on year after year, a stubborn standoff between one determined woman and a colony of equally determined engineers.

Eventually, the beavers disappeared. Maybe my mother finally won. Maybe Fish & Game quietly stepped in and relocated them. All I know is that today, the old homestead is beaver‑free.

But while our family’s beaver drama played out the usual way, Idaho took a very different approach. A much more dramatic approach. An approach involving… parachutes.

Beavers in the Sky: Idaho’s 1948 Airborne Solution

After World War II, Idaho faced its own beaver problem. Development was booming around Payette Lake and McCall, and beavers — being beavers — were busy damming streams, flooding yards, and chewing through anything that resembled a tree. Removing the dams didn’t work. Moving the beavers by truck wasn’t possible. The Chamberlain Basin, the perfect relocation site, had no roads leading into it.

So Idaho Fish & Game got creative.

🪂 The Parachute Plan 

With surplus WWII parachutes sitting in storage, a Fish & Game employee named Elmo Heter devised a plan that sounds like folklore but is absolutely true: parachute the beavers into the wilderness.

Heter designed special wooden boxes that would hold a beaver securely during the drop and pop open on impact. Then came the test subject — a beaver affectionately named Geronimo.

Geronimo was dropped again and again to perfect the technique. He survived every jump. He even seemed unfazed by the whole experience, which is impressive for an animal that normally prefers to stay on the ground building dams.

Once the system worked, Idaho loaded up the rest of the beavers — more than 70 of them — and parachuted them into the Chamberlain Basin.

🦫 Did It Work?

Amazingly… yes.

All but one beaver survived the drop. The relocated colonies thrived. And the Chamberlain Basin became a beaver paradise — full of streams, ponds, and wetlands shaped by their engineering.

In 2015, Idaho Fish & Game released archival footage showing the actual parachute drops — tiny wooden boxes drifting down like odd little airborne packages carrying very confused beavers.

🌲 A Conservation Story With Lift

The Beaver Drop wasn’t just a quirky stunt. It was early, innovative wildlife management — a humane solution to a growing conflict. Instead of killing the beavers, Idaho found a way to give them a new home, even if it meant dropping them from the sky.

And it worked.

Final Thoughts

From my mother’s annual dam‑tearing battles in New England to Idaho’s airborne beaver brigade, the Beaver vs Human Conundrum has always required creativity. Sometimes that creativity looks like persistence with a shovel. And sometimes it looks like parachutes drifting over the Chamberlain Basin.

Either way, it’s a reminder that wildlife management can be messy, surprising, and occasionally hilarious — but when done right, it gives animals a second chance and ecosystems room to thrive.

 

Are You Older Than Dirt? Then You’re a Limited‑Edition Human

Posted on by | 4 Comments

An older person sits at a desk in front of a computer monitor, holding a bottle of correction fluid and applying it directly onto the screen as if trying to fix a typo. The monitor displays a document with typed text. A keyboard, mouse, rubber band ball, and office supplies sit on the desk. In the background, another person works at a separate desk. The scene is humorous, showing a mix‑up between old‑school office tools and modern technology.

Are You Older Than 65? Then You’re Officially Rare.

Only about 10% of the world’s population is over 65. In the United States, it’s around 18%. In Japan, it’s a whopping 30% — practically a national pastime.

So yes, if you’re over 65, you’re a limited‑edition human. If you’re over 75, like me, you’re practically a collector’s item.

The Keepers of Wisdom

Then you’re part of a very small group — only about 10% of the world. In many cultures throughout history, older adults were the keepers of wisdom, the storytellers, the ones who remembered how things used to be and why it mattered.

People once gathered around fires, in circles, in kitchens, on porches — anywhere stories could be shared — to listen to the elders talk about the world as it was, the lessons learned, and the memories worth carrying forward.

Today, we may not sit around campfires passing down legends, but we still carry decades of lived experience. We’ve seen the world change in ways younger generations can’t imagine — rotary phones to smartphones, handwritten letters to emojis, TV antennas to streaming everything.

Being over 65 means you’ve collected stories, survived trends, and lived through at least three hairstyles you regret. That’s a superpower.

Things We Used That Don’t Exist Anymore

Cursive Writing

We didn’t just sign our names — we wrote entire essays in cursive. Kids today treat it like hieroglyphics.

Rotary Phones

We dialed numbers one… slow… circle… at… a… time. If your friend’s number had a lot of 9s, you needed a snack break.

Rabbit‑Ear Antennas

And yes — the best use for aluminum foil was topping off those rabbit ears to get the picture just clear enough to watch your show.

Rewinding VHS Tapes

And being polite enough to rewind before returning it to Blockbuster — which, by the way, most kids today think is either a myth or a Halloween costume.

Paper Maps

We unfolded them like treasure hunters and refolded them like confused origami students. And as Indiana Jones wisely taught us, X never, ever marks the spot.

Film Cameras

You took 24 pictures, waited a week, and discovered 18 were blurry — or everyone was missing their head.

Party Lines

You picked up the phone and your neighbor was already talking. Privacy was optional.

Typewriters

One typo and you were negotiating with correction tape like a hostage situation.

Defrosting the Freezer

Chipping ice like you were mining for diamonds.

The Funny Part About Aging in America

Here in the U.S., we’re about 18% of the population — still a minority. Depending on who’s talking, we’re either treasured elders or apparently draining Social Security one coffee cake at a time.

Meanwhile, in Japan, 30% of the population is over 65. Over there, being old is practically a group hobby.

The Truth? We’ve Earned Every Bit of This

Across the decades, life has thrown change, innovation, chaos, beauty, heartbreak, joy, and more than a few questionable fashion choices our way.
Through it all, adaptation, resilience, humor, and sheer determination have carried us forward.

So What Does Senior Life Really Mean?

Waking up with an ache or pain just lets me know I’m still alive. I’m old enough to understand there’s less life ahead of me than behind — which only makes every adventure sweeter. Every sunrise, every laugh, every unexpected moment feels like a little bonus round.

So I’m going to keep collecting stories, marveling over the changes, and putting one foot in front of the other. Slow if I must, wobbly if I have to, but forward all the same.

This post is proudly endorsed by me — professional story collector, rabbit‑ear antenna engineer,with the help of two cat editors.

 

Created with Copilot — featuring Deborah and her two cat editors.