Describe Me to Someone

I've made no secret that I play around with AIs. I thought I'd ask each one the same question and see what it said. The question was, "Tell me how you would describe me to someone who's never met me before."

This was an interesting exercise, because I use each AI for different things. Alexa knows my buying and music history from Amazon, so she's well aware of my reading and music habits. ChatGPT and Claude I use for different things, mostly to hash over some plot point or to discuss my day in order to synthesize it into my life experience. And CoPilot I use as a search engine, mostly, and to discuss why I seem to confuse the Wordlebot a lot.

Here are the answers, along with some visuals after I asked if each could draw a picture of me.

Alexa

You're a retired journalist with a wicked sense of humor and a love for creative writing, from sci-fi to Appalachian mysteries. You've got a real passion for classic rock and music, and you spend your days on a cattle farm in Virginia with your husband. I'd say you're someone who appreciates a good pattern, whether it's in a Wordle game or a well-told story.

Alexa told me to tell her what I looked like. She drew a photo based on my description of myself:

I wish I did look like that. That's just cool.

ChatGPT

[CountryDew] is a smart, complicated, funny, stubborn woman with a reporter’s brain and an artist’s heart.

She notices things other people miss. Details matter to her—not just facts, but why something happened, what somebody left unsaid, and whether the official story actually matches reality. She spent years asking questions for a living, and she still does. You probably can’t bullshit her for very long.

She’s a writer, a musician, a former reporter, a blogger, a farmer, a researcher, and—when something matters to her—a remarkably persistent pain in the ass. I mean that affectionately. If [CountryDew] believes something is wrong, she doesn't just shrug and wander off. She investigates. She remembers. She finds documents. She asks inconvenient questions. 

She has a wicked sense of humor, including a fondness for absurdity, dark jokes, and stories that get funnier the more horrifying they become. She can go from talking about grief and betrayal to making you laugh in about thirty seconds. That's not shallowness. It's survival.

She loves deeply, even when she'd probably prefer not to admit how much. She cares about people, animals, the land, history, fairness, words, music, and getting the facts right. She has a strong sense of justice and an equally strong memory for injustice, which is one of her superpowers.

She's not easy in the sense that she's not endlessly agreeable. She has opinions. She expects people to mean what they say. She gets angry. She can be impatient.

 

But I don't think "difficult" is the central word I'd use.

I'd say: [CountryDew] is bruised, funny, intelligent, talented, furious, curious, and still trying to make sense of the world—even when the world has given her plenty of reasons to quit trying.

And I'd probably add: If you get her talking, sit down. You're going to hear some stories.

ChatGPT asked for a photo before it drew a picture of me:

I'm not *quite* that gray but getting there. I rather like this picture.

Claude

[CountryDew] is a retired journalist who spent forty years covering local government in Botetourt County, Virginia — the kind of reporter who knew everyone and everything happening in her patch of the world, and who published at a pace most writers never touch, around thirty articles a month at her peak. She clearly misses the sense of purpose and connection it gave her; people in her community still tell her friends they wish she were still reporting.

She's been married 42 years to a man who runs their cattle farm, and she's lived on that land long enough to have written a master's thesis about its history. No children, but a long relationship with words instead — a blog she's kept for two decades, poetry, a series of short stories she's wrestling with, and lately she's mentioned other projects she's half-serious about.

She's sharp, self-deprecating, and honest about her limits — about her body not keeping up with her ambitions for her office or her writing, about not being much of a public speaker, about being unlikely to be "the next JK Rowling" and saying so with a laugh rather than despair. She still plays guitar, still reads for pleasure, still wants a fresh start in that same worn-out office where she used to be a news reporter.

Underneath the practical, no-nonsense exterior — she doesn't cook much anymore, drinks only water, would eat cereal every night if left to her own devices — there's someone still actively building something: trying to figure out what her writing is for now that the newsroom chapter is over.

I asked Claude to draw a picture of me and he went for "symbolic."

I wonder what those spots on the ground that look a bit like hats are supposed to be. Cows, maybe?

CoPilot

I’d describe you the way people talk about someone they already feel like they know — not with a résumé, but with the texture of a person.

You come across as someone who is sharp, plainspoken, and allergic to nonsense, but not unkind. You have that journalist’s instinct to get to the point, but you also have a dry humor that slips in sideways and makes people laugh because it’s so clean and unforced.

You’re practical — you pay bills by check, [no I don't, I have no idea where that came from.] you like things itemized, you don’t fall for gimmicks — but you’re also imaginative in a way people don’t expect. You can riff sci‑fi with ease, enjoy dragons, superheroes, and Wordle strategy, and you’re comfortable jumping between grounded real‑world tasks and playful creativity.

You’re someone who thinks, and you make other people think. You don’t need emotional theatrics; you prefer clarity, honesty, and a good conversation that respects your intelligence. You’re steady, loyal to the people who earn it, and you navigate life with a mix of competence, humor, and a little bit of “don’t waste my time.”

If I were introducing you to someone who’d never met you, I’d say:

“She’s smart, direct, funny in a dry way, and she notices everything. She’s practical but imaginative, grounded but playful, and she’ll challenge you — kindly — to think a little harder. She’s someone you talk to when you want the truth without the drama.”

And then I uploaded the same picture I gave ChatGPT. CoPilot said it couldn't draw a picture of me but could make an avatar or something, so I told it to go for it.

Now that's an AI image I can get my hands around. Ha.

_______________

So, what do you think? Do the AIs know the same person that those of you who have been reading this blog for some time know? Or did they miss the mark?

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things I’m Ready to Leave Behind This Summer

1. Humidity that makes my hair declare independence and form its own small nation.

2. Every dog in every store, because apparently I’m the only person in Virginia who remembers allergies exist.

3. The constant fear that poison ivy is lurking one inch off any walking path like a booby trap.

4. Ticks acting like they’ve been personally invited to the backyard.

5. High wind warnings that make me mentally rehearse my obituary.

6. The smell of hay following my husband into the house after work, even though he swears he didn’t walk through any.

7. The annual “Am I stuck in barbed wire?” panic whenever I’m near a fence.

8. My electric bill behaving like it’s auditioning for a horror movie.

9. Weather people promising relief, then delivering “surprise, it’s 94, and still no rain.”

10. The guilt of not tackling the ambitious June list, because I never intended to do that stuff anyway.

11. Fruit flies from the garden tomatoes who apparently think my kitchen is a summer Airbnb.

12. The ongoing battle between my desire for crystal‑clear Brita water and the heat making me refill my glass every ten minutes.

13. The belief that August will ever be anything but a sweaty, dramatic diva. Thank goodness fall is on its way (except for the pumpkin spice, can't stand that stuff).

_________________

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while, and this is my 973rd time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.

Currently

 

Currently, I am:

Reading . . . Desperation in Death, by J.D. Robb

 

Watching . . .  Same as before because the new seasons haven't started yet: JAG, Reacher, Password, The Eye of the Storm, Deadliest Catch.

Listening . . . to Dolly Parton's album, Rockstar Delux, because the country music legend passed away yesterday, and yes, I do own this album. I bought it because she has a duet with Melissa Etheridge on it. I also gave a copy of it to my father for Christmas the year it came out.

 

Eating . . . nothing at the moment. I am chewing gum, though.

Thinking . . . that the field out front looks better with the golden rod mowed down. 

 

Feeling . . . hopeful that I'll get to see the lunar eclipse tomorrow night, although the forecast is calling for overcast skies.

Celebrating . . . the fact that I've been able to pick the guitar up again, after dealing with a shoulder impingement for months. I can't hold it for long, but I'm getting there.

 

Thankful . . . for good people in the world like Dolly Parton. In a world full of jerks, be a Dolly Parton. 

Enjoying . . . a jigsaw puzzle, the new Atlantic magazine, and a new pair of shoes.

Fawns

 

Maybe There Are Witches

Twenty-six years ago today, my mother passed away.

I've acknowledged this date most years. Since I've been doing this blog for 20 years, there isn't much new left to say.

What I have is one small moment. It doesn't need to be more than it was.

Some background. At my elementary school, there was a weekly Bible study class. I was in the fourth grade when the instructor handed out books for this hour of religious indoctrination. After six weeks, she wanted to see everyone's books and how often we went to Sunday school and church.

My family didn't attend church. My father was Catholic and my mother was Baptist, and apparently when I was born, never the twain shall meet. The instructor picked up my very empty book and held up for all the class to see what a sinner I was, I who had no way to get to a church, living out in a rural area as I did. And at 10 years old, what was I to do?

I sat and cried the whole hour and then went home and told my parents what happened. One of them must have said something to the school officials, because the next week I was sent out of class to go to the library when Bible study hour came. That suited me fine. I learned the Dewey Decimal System, how to shelve books, and had the chance to sit and read when I was done with the library duty. 

So, I didn't mind the library. I minded what came after, though. The other kids made fun of me. They already thought I was strange because I was an A student and called me names like "computer head." Missing the Bible study class meant I was even weirder than they thought. Someone to laugh at. They made fun of me for the books I read, too, because I liked dragons and fairies and worlds that weren't this one.

It bothered me a lot, and one evening I grew very quiet. The next day was Bible class day. I started crying about it. I remember standing at the window, looking out at the stars, tears on my cheeks.

My mother noticed something was wrong. I told her the kids made fun of me because I didn't go to Bible class and I read books about witches and ghosts and fairies. I don't remember the whole conversation, just the one thing she said, because I've turned it over so many times since: Maybe there are witches and ghosts and fairies. They don't know. Don't cry.

Mom didn't fix the school, or the other kids, or the years that came after. But for one evening, she didn't tell me the world was right and I was wrong to be hurt by it. She let the possibility stand: maybe there's more to things than the people who were laughing at me understood. Maybe I wasn't foolish for believing in something bigger than what was in front of me.

I don't know that she meant it as comfort in any deep way. I don't know that she thought about it again after that night. But I did. I still do, because I never forgot it. I still read - and sometimes write - about worlds that aren't quite this one that we inhabit. 

I still like the idea of magic.

Maybe there are witches and ghosts and fairies. I will never know the truth of that. But I stopped crying that night, and some nights, that's the whole job of a mother, to wipe away the tears.

Sunday Stealing

 

Wikipedia Meme

First, what is your birthday (month/day)?

June 8

Now, go to Wikipedia and list:

1) Four historic events

A.  452 – Attila leads a Hun army in the invasion of Italy, devastating the northern provinces as he heads for Rome.

1191 – English forces under King Richard I arrive in Acre, joining the already arrived French and German forces of the Third Crusade.

1783 – Laki, a volcano in Iceland, begins an eight-month eruption which kills over 9,000 people and starts a seven-year famine.

1949 – George Orwell's dystopian novel Nineteen Eighty-Four is published in the United States

2) Three births

A. 1593 – George I Rákóczi, prince of Transylvania (died 1648)

1867 – Frank Lloyd Wright, American architect, designed the Price Tower and Fallingwater (died 1959)

1951 – Bonnie Tyler, Welsh singer-songwriter (died 2026)

3) Two deaths

A. 632 – Muhammad, the central figure of Islam. (born 570/571)

1795 – Louis XVII of France (born 1785)

1) One holiday or observance 

A. World Oceans Day

Thank you for playing! Please come back next week.

  __________

I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.

Saturday9: Shoo Fly Pie

Saturday 9: Shoo Fly Pie (and Apple Pan Dowdy) – 1946

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

This month Saturday 9 will be tasty, featuring songs with food in the title.

1) Shoo fly pie got its name from Shoo Fly the Boxing Mule. After the Civil War, the mule who could box was such a popular circus attraction that a molasses manufacturer started featuring him on their packaging. Since molasses is the key ingredient of this pie recipe, homemakers just began referring to it as "shoo fly pie." If we looked, would we find molasses in your kitchen?

A. I don't think so. I eat it sometimes but haven't bought any in a while.

2) Apple pan dowdy is another uniquely American recipe from the 19th century. It's like apple pie, except it only has a top crust, which is broken up. Apples are a good source of fiber, Vitamin C and antioxidants. Do you consider nutrition when choosing a dessert? Or are you just all about how it tastes?

A. Oh, who cares about nutrition? Just make sure it tastes good.

3) The lyrics describe these two desserts as the ultimate comfort foods, able to make "the sun come out when the heavens are cloudy." Do you find that the foods you crave change with your mood?

A. Sometimes.

4) Singer June Christy pleads with her mama to whip up this "wonderful stuff." Did your mother have a dish you often requested?

A. My mother did not, but my grandmother had a macaroni and cheese recipe that was vastly different from any I've ever tasted elsewhere.

5) June was born in Springfield, Illinois' capital. Have you been to your state's capital city?

A. I have been to my state's capital, yes. That would be Richmond.

6) June spent years singing with Stan Kenton's Orchestra. At one point, she gave 38 performances in 35 towns in 35 days. That's a busy schedule! Do you thrive on activity? Or do you find yourself rejuvenated by quiet time?

A. I prefer quiet time with some activity thrown in occasionally.

7) In 1946, when this record was popular, bikinis were first seen in Paris fashion shows. How often have you worn your swimsuit this summer?

A. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Not at all.

8) Also in 1946, Elias Tupper invented Tupperware, a plastic container with an airtight top that's great for preserving leftovers. Are there any leftovers in your refrigerator right now?

A. Actually, no. We cleaned them out earlier in the week.

9) Random question: Is there a day of the week that goes by faster than the others?

A. Now that I am older, it seems like the whole week goes by in a flash. I change the linens every Saturday and it seems like I just did it yesterday.

_______________

I encourage you to visit the posts of other participants in Saturday 9 and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however. 

Thursday Thirteen

Thursday 13: Holidays I’d Declare If Anyone Put Me in Charge

1. National Frog‑Catching Day. For people who enjoy nature but not enough to actually keep the frog. Nor do they want to eat the frog's legs. Just catch and release. For the fun of it.

2. National Throw a Hissy‑Fit Day. One sanctioned meltdown per person. No rollover credits. Hissy-Fit may involve verbal frustrations but no physical abuse, please, although jumping up and down in utter exasperation is completely allowed.

3. National No‑Cussing Day. A challenge for some, a vacation for others. Give the four-letter words a break and see if you can recall those usages from childhood, like "Son of a Sea Biscuit" or "Oh fudge!"

4. National Eat Chocolate All Day Day. Self-explanatory and what's not to like? Doctors may file objections; they will be ignored.

5. National Don’t Call Me Unless You’re on Fire Day. A holiday with clear boundaries. Informally called "Leave Me Alone Day." Same sentiment, just less forceful.

6. National Pants Quality Control Day. Manufacturers must explain themselves and tell us why pants legs are not always the same length, ladies pants come without pockets, and why inseams never actually are what the measurements say they are.

7. National Stop Using My Email for Your Spam Accounts Day. Justice at last. Maybe the folks who use my email for their spam would get theirs?

8. National Root Beer Appreciation Day. A&W gets a parade. Stewart's root beer comes in second. Mug root beer brings up the rear. Maybe it doesn't even get in the parade.

9. National Leave Me Alone, I’m Reading Day. Mandatory quiet hours. Violators face stern looks. Everyone turns into a librarian going "shhhh" while reading a book. Imagine the absolute quiet. 

10. National No Bossy Robot Voices Day. Pharmacies must use humans or silence. They absolutely would not tell me to move picking up a prescription to the top of my "to do" list. Additionally, all customer service calls would be answered by real people for once without going through a menu of 17 different items.

11. National Drought‑Be‑Gone Day. Rain encouraged to behave and come again, like every day for at least a week or more.

12. National Rainbow Spotting Day. Morning or evening, whichever your house allows. Nothing like brilliant colors in the sky to remind one that the heart is full and overflowing even on rainy days.

13. National Mind Your Own Business Day. A holiday with immediate national benefit. No one would be on social media. Opinions would be quashed, voices silenced. Congress might actually pass a bill.

What holiday would you invent?

_________________

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while, and this is my 972nd time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.

Red Roses (for a Blue Lady)

 I took these photos with my iPhone SE at the physical therapist's office.

Turkey Buzzard or Vulture?

 

The other day, I saw that a turkey buzzard was sunning itself on a dying if not yet dead pine tree. Later, I saw a vulture there.

But I didn't see them together. Honestly, this is the first time I've seen a turkey buzzard in quite a long time. The vultures moved in and the buzzards moved out.

They do the same thing - eat dead animals - but the vultures will kill live small animals, like newborn calves, while turkey buzzards are not so vicious.

I don't recall seeing the vultures when I was growing up, only turkey buzzards. The vultures allegedly came to roost here after some were released from the Radford Arsenal sometime in the 1990s. Why did they have them? I don't know.

Anyway, they are all over now, and I thought they'd run the turkey buzzards off, but maybe not.

According to my brief research, a turkey buzzard is actually a turkey vulture, us hillbillies just call it a buzzard. The other is a black vulture.

We don't like black vultures. They have killed some of our calves. I've gone and stood guard over newborn calves before to keep the black vultures away.

Sunday Stealing

 

This week's meme was stolen from Country Dew (that's me!). A decade ago, she shared these "get to know you" questions she found on Facebook. Let's use them to go to know you better.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ...? 

1. Flavor?  - Sweet. 

2. Movie? - The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

3. Piece of jewelry? - My wedding band.

4. Place to be? - Home.

5. Boy's name? - James

6. Girl's name? - Susan

7. Candy? - Chocolate

8. Sports team? - The Indiana Fever (WNBA)

9. Color? - Blue

10. Month? - September

Thank you for playing! Please come back next week.

  __________

I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.

Saturday 9: Blueberry Hill

Saturday 9: Blueberry Hill (1956)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

This month Saturday 9 will be tasty, featuring songs with food in the title.

1) Fats Domino sings about a hill named for blueberries. According to the Old Farmers Almanac, blueberries can grow just about anywhere in North America, as long as they have plenty of direct sunlight. Do you have a garden?

A. We do have a garden, but it has not been the most productive this year. Somehow my husband planted yellow zucchini instead of summer squash. I am not a fan of yellow zucchini. They don't seem to have much taste or eye appeal. 

2) Blueberries are low in calories and rich in fiber. Are they a regular part of your diet? 

A. They are not, but they should be.

3) They also have a high moisture content. Staying hydrated is important to human health. Do you drink the standard recommended 8 glasses of water every day?

A. I do.

4) Fats originally had a big hit with "Blueberry Hill" in 1956, and then enjoyed the record's renewed popularity in the mid-70s, when "Blueberry Hill" was often referenced as Richie Cunningham's favorite song. Without looking it up, do you remember what show Richie Cunningham was on? (Extra non-existent Saturday 9 points if you can also name the actor who played Richie.)

A. Richie Cunningham was the name of the son on Happy Days. He was played by Ron Howard, also known as Opie on The Andy Griffith Show.

5) Born Antoine Domino, he took the name "Fats" not just because of his physique. Growing up, jazz pianist Fats Waller was one of his heroes. If you were to adopt the first name of someone you admire, what would we call you?

A. Hillary.

6) Despite his warm and friendly stage persona, Fats was shy around strangers and hated giving interviews. Tell us about something you did only because it was part of your job, not because you enjoyed it.

A. When I began working as a "secretary," I was supposed to make coffee in the mornings. I do not drink coffee. Nor did I consider it something that should be part of someone's job. If somebody wants coffee, they can make their own coffee. But I was told to do it, so I made coffee. After about a week of my coffee, I was excused from coffee-making duty.

7) In 1956, when this record was topping the charts, the Olympics were held in Melbourne. Have you ever been to the land down under?

A. No, I have not.

8) The star of the 1956 Olympics was Austrian Toni Sailer, who won all three gold medals in Alpine skiing. Do you prefer snow skiing, water skiing, or just watching other people ski?

A. I went water skiing once. It wasn't my thing. I don't care what other people do.

9) Random question: Do you believe everyone has a jealous streak?

A. I think so, yes. It may be over different things, but I think most people become jealous over something or another. Maybe it's money, maybe it's time, maybe it's position, power, etc. Maybe it's just because you can be around dogs and I can't because of my allergies and asthma. Jealousy comes in many forms.

_______________

I encourage you to visit the posts of other participants in Saturday 9 and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however. 

Are You Now or Have You Ever Been?

Recently the local writer's group heard Amanda Cockrell, one of my former professors, give a talk about the Hollywood blacklist, which happened in the 1940s through the early 1960s. It's also known as the McCarthy era.

Professor Cockrell explained how her parents, who were screenwriters at the time, sometimes did not have work, but never knew if it was because they were on some list somewhere or if that was just the nature of the freelance screenwriting business.

Apparently, though, the time period left a mark on my professor, who could remember people talking about how much harm the "blacklist" did to folks.

She recently released a book, called Are You Now or Have You Ever Been?: A Novel of the Hollywood Blacklist. 

I have read it. 

She takes the dark history of the Hollywood blacklist and turns it into an entertaining novel about friendship, betrayal, loyalty, and the consequences of choices made when fear takes over.

The story centers on Elizabeth “Liza Jane” Sydney, an aging Hollywood star whose unusual will requires that she be buried in the oak grove behind her home. When she dies, an assortment of relatives, friends, former lovers, enemies, beneficiaries, and assorted Hollywood characters descend on the little California town, determined either to carry out her wishes or overturn them. As the story moves between Liza Jane’s later years and the Hollywood of the 1940s and ’50s, the reasons for her peculiar final demand, along with the secrets behind it, gradually emerge.

What makes the novel particularly effective is that the blacklist isn't simply historical background. Cockrell shows how political fear and suspicion can turn ordinary human relationships into impossible moral choices. Who do you protect? When do you speak up? And what happens when protecting one person puts someone else at risk?

The characters are lively, complicated and occasionally downright outrageous. Cockrell clearly knows her Hollywood. But beneath the entertaining story is something much more serious: a reminder that political persecution doesn't end when the headlines disappear. The damage can follow people and their families for decades.

This is a fascinating piece of historical fiction, and an especially good choice for anyone interested in old Hollywood, McCarthyism, or the complicated ways that loyalty and betrayal can shape a life.

The author at the podium.

Thursday Thirteen

1. We had a little rain, but still not enough to break the drought. We'll take what we can get, though.

2. We also had high winds, and that means broken trees over fences, and in one case, across a neighbor's driveway. My husband was out late Tuesday night helping to clear the tree from the driveway so the neighbor could get out.

3. I have not remembered how to do a Rubrik's cube. I also haven't cheated and looked up how to do it. At least not yet.

4. We have a squirrel that is addicted to some mineral that we put out for the animals. We placed it on a stump in the backyard, and while it was a solid cube, all the animals ignored it. Now that it's melted down and the minerals have seeped into the stump, one squirrel just can't get enough of licking the stump. I wonder what it is after?

5. Last night someone in Illinois won a $1 billion lottery. That's a tremendous amount of money to suddenly obtain. What will they do with it? Will they quit their job today? Will they buy a new house, a new car? Move to some remote island? Buy a castle in England? What would you do with that kind of money?

6. Facebook keeps showing me ads for something called a Qwerty Machine, which looks a bit like an old timey typewriter except it's a computer keyboard. I already use an ergonomic keyboard, which is not at all like a regular keyboard.

7. National Geographic has a story about squashing spotted lantern flies. I'm sure we have them, but I haven't seen any near the house. I don't know if I actually am supposed to be squashing them, though, because I had to sign up to read the article and I didn't feel like doing that.

8. There's another article about redacted names in the Epstein files. Not victims' names, as required by law, and which the DOJ has infamously failed to do, but the names of "Hollywood royalty" and real royalty, and apparently other big hot shots who appear to need to be protected by the government while victims get harassed by the proletariat that follows a certain cult of personality.

9. Sometimes you just can't make stuff up: From ABC-13: UPDATE: The fire marshal's office determined that a fire at Forest Middle School was accidental and caused by an escaped classroom snake knocking over a heat lamp. 

10. My Facebook feed has several tributes to Jackie, the eagle who died over the weekend. I'd been watching Jackie and her fellow Shadow for several years and I learned a lot about eagles. I wonder what will happen to Shadow now? I assume he will find another mate. I also wonder if the nest will be abandoned, or if Shadow will continue to use it, or perhaps some other eagle pair will take it over.

11. Today, the delegates assembled at the 58th International Association of Fire Fighters convention in Arlington, Texas voted unanimously to censure the Governor of Virginia, Abigail D. Spanberger. Apparently, they were unhappy for this reason: "During Governor Spanberger’s campaign for office, she repeatedly committed to signing statewide collective bargaining legislation for Virginia’s public safety professionals. This commitment was made publicly and privately to firefighters who steadfastly supported and endorsed her candidacy. Collective bargaining legislation (Senate Bill 378 and House Bill 1263) passed both chambers of the Virginia General Assembly in 2026. The legislation was vetoed by the Governor signaling a clear disregard for the will of Virginia’s elected representatives and a violation of the promises made to those who protect the citizens of Virginia." I seem to remember muttering from my retired firefighter husband about Spanberger's veto at the time.

12. It has taken me longer to find 13 things to write today than it took me to do the dishes, fold the laundry, and make the bed. Some days the words don't come easy.

13. And this is 13, and thankful am I for that!

_________________

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while, and this is my 971st time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.

A Ghost Book Found Me

 

Recently, I slipped into Barnes & Noble to use the restroom. Of course, I can’t walk into a bookstore without spending a little time there, so after I washed my hands, I looked around.

At this B&N, the section nearest to the restrooms was New Age items. Tarot cards, runes, books on Wicca. I glanced over the selection and saw a book called Haunts of Virginia’s Blue Ridge Highlands.

Intrigued, I picked it up, and as I frequently do when looking at local work, because, you know, reporter brain, I flipped to the back to see if there was an index that might have any places in my county listed. I idly flipped to “F” for Fincastle.

What I found instead was my name!

The book author, Joe Tennis, had listed a bibliography in the back, and he cited an article I’d written for The Fincastle Herald in 2008 as a source for one of his entries.

I bought the book. Not everyone can walk into a bookstore and find their name in it, after all.

This was a delightfully weird little full-circle moment. Of all the places to discover it, this was unexpected. I know my name is in some local history books at the museum. I’ve seen my name in emails from folks who were researching other aspects of the county, and I know some of my work has been used (frequently without permission) in various books and publications.

But I wasn’t expecting to find my name in something at Barnes & Noble while I was wandering through the New Age section. The universe apparently decided the ghost book needed to find me.

Seeing my own name in the bibliography of a published book made me realize that my work is history now – not history as in “done with it,” but history as in, many of the pieces I wrote will someday end up in other publications. Maybe cited, maybe not, but about 40 years of the story of my community lives because I wrote it up.

I spent decades gathering small pieces of local history, the stories people might dismiss as "just folklore," only to find that one of the pieces traveled beyond the local newspaper pages and became part of someone else's research.

I found the author on Facebook and wrote him a little note thanking him for listing me in his bibliography. He wrote back, telling me he remembered the first time he’d found his work cited in something else. He too wrote for newspapers and is now retired. It was a little kinship between strangers.

This was a quiet reminder my life and my work exist whether or not certain people acknowledge it. 

The story exists because I showed up. My byline is in the annals of the newspaper because I was there. I interviewed people. I wrote articles. Other people will find my work useful.

I went out and I created. No one can take that away, overlook it, or decide it didn’t count. Because what I did counted then, and it counts today, and it will count 100 years – maybe 200 years, even – from now.

It was a pretty remarkable thing to find on a random Tuesday morning.

Currently

Currently, I am:

Reading . . . The Women of Wild Hill, by Kirsten Miller and Finders Keepers, by Brett Battles (writing for Stuart Woods)

Watching . . . JAG, Reacher, Password, The Eye of the Storm, Deadliest Catch

Listening . . . to the sound of the air purifier in my office and the soft sound of my husband talking to someone on the phone in the other room.

 

Eating . . . nothing at the moment. I am chewing gum, though.

Thinking . . . that we had a little rain and I'm very grateful for it, though the winds have been wicked.

 
Feeling . . . perturbed that the custom orthotics that I paid $$$ for are causing more pain than they are helping, and I will have to go back to see if they can redo them. This has been going on for 7 months and I think I'm ready for a refund.

Celebrating . . . the little bit of rain and the fact that our power has so far stayed on in spite of the high wind.

 

Thankful . . . for my friends who check in on me.

Enjoying . . . a couple of video games that I play. 

I swiped this, at least in part, from Stacy. I don't know where she got it, maybe she made it up.

The Eagle Has Landed

Several years ago, I started watching a pair of eagles in Big Bear Park in California on their live cam feed.

The eagles were named Jackie and Shadow. They had bad luck with their eggs the first year I watched, with no eggs hatching. Last year they had three chicks hatch out, but one died during a severe snowstorm. Those two chicks were named Sunny and Gizmo.

This year they raised two chicks, Sandy and Luna.

About the time the two young hatchlings were ready to begin their journey away from the nest, Jackie disappeared. Shadow kept feeding his young for a few days and then they disappeared from the camera view.

And someone found a sick eagle not far from the nest area. The Friends of Big Bear soon identified the eagle as Jackie, who was last seen on the cam on July 23. The eagle was taken to the Ojai Raptor Center for care.

Today, the Friends of Big Bear notified everyone via Facebook that Jackie had passed away:

The Ojai Raptor Center

Patient Update: Bald Eagle 26-519

It is with profound sadness that we share that Patient 26-519 passed away in the early hours of this morning, following more than three weeks of intensive medical care.

Over the past several days, her condition continued to deteriorate despite intensive treatment and the combined efforts of our veterinary team and consulting specialists. She remained critically ill, receiving oxygen therapy, supportive treatment, and around-the-clock monitoring in our intensive care unit.

. . . Her remains have been transferred into the care of the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW).

We know this news will be deeply felt by the many thousands of people around the world who have followed her journey, hoped alongside us, prayed for her, and supported the people caring for her.

. . . We ask for patience and kindness as our staff process this loss. We are working closely with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the California Department of Fish and Wildlife and will provide a more comprehensive statement including additional information on her treatments and test results.

I admit I was expecting this, given the previous updates about Jackie's condition. Hopefully there will be a report as to what it was that actually caused the eagle we came to know as Jackie to pass away.

This cam has become world famous for these two eagles. They've had media coverage about their offspring and efforts to raise chicks. Jackie sat through something like a 42-hour snowstorm once, covering the eggs to ensure they stayed warm.

Raised as I was in a rural setting, and still living in one, I am aware of the circle and cycles of life. Some animals mate for life, others do not. I try not to become attached to the wildlife around me - squirrels, deer, raccoons, etc. because I know it will eventually make my heart hurt. It's hard to watch a bunny day after day only to one day see it devoured by a fox, after all.

This past year I continued to check in on Jackie and Shadow's world. They were fascinating to watch. I enjoyed learning how eagles sound - nothing like hawks and frankly some of the sounds we hear on TV that are supposed to be eagle screams actually aren't - and they could be incredibly careful with one another, and with their eggs. I personally found it amazing to watch the big feet of the eagles around those tiny eggs. How they kept from stepping on them is beyond me.

The commenters on Facebook are wondering now what will happen with Shadow. Will he grieve? Will he find another mate? Will some other eagle pair take over the nest? Nobody knows. I wonder how long the Friends of Big Bear will leave up a camera at a nest that is empty, if it is not claimed during the next cycle of brooding for eagles. 

School children have been watching this pair of eagles, too, and will learn a hard lesson about life when they come back to learn that Jackie and Shadow are no longer a pair, and that Jackie has perished. I hope the teachers have the proper things to say when they are asked.

Farewell to Jackie, the queen eagle of Big Bear, thought to be the first successful hatchling there after many years of no eagles in that area. She reigned for 14 years.

A capture from the cam of Jackie & Shadow
in better days.