One of these things is not like the others.

Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! When my adoptive-sister Jenny was a kid, long ago in the days of yore, she liked to collect little toy humanoid things called dolls. One type that she especially enjoyed were known as Cabbage Patch Kids. They were made in a place called Babyland General Hospital, up in the mountains of northeast Georgia. Jenny loved her Cabbage Patch Kids so much that she kept them even after she was all grown up.

In 1992, Jen decided to have M take a photo of her Kids, and here they are:

The one on the left, with the blond ponytails, is Sally Ann, and she did not come from Babyland General. Instead, Jeannie actually made her by hand. But Sally Ann isn't the one I consider to be "not like the others." Check out the dark-haired dumpling in the blue overalls, sitting next to her. If you're thinking that somehow he doesn't seem ugly enough to be a Cabbage Patch Kid, you would be right. He didn't come from Babyland General Hospital, either, but from Cape Fear Valley Hospital, in North Carolina. He's M and J's grandson!

In 2010, this baby returned to his "Mimmy and Papa's" house to re-stage the picture--and boy howdy, what a difference 18 years can make!

M and J tried to make the reenactment as much like the original as possible. But alas, one of the Cabbage Patch dolls (Evita Cinthy) disappeared over the years, only to reappear some time later--after Baby Mike had gone back home. Stickler for detail that I am, I think he should come back for a "Take 2." But if that doesn't happen, this one's still pretty cool, don't you think?

I try to avoid politics . . .

. . . but every now and then, when I least expect it, someone comes along with an idea that makes sense.

Here's a good example:

Well, starch my collar! It's Auntie Julia's birthday . . .

. . . and just in time for a couple of Throwback Thursday family pictures!

When Mike and his sister--my Auntie Julia--were little kids, they liked to spend summer vacations in the mountains of North Carolina. Here's a nice picture of them with Grandma Grace. M says he thinks it dates to the early 1950s and that Grandpa George was probably the one taking the picture:

A few years later--1956 to be more precise--they found themselves again in North Carolina, this time at Chimney Rock Park, named for this strange outcropping:

That is one big rock. As you can see, it has a set of stairs you can use to climb up on top of it, assuming you're crazy. But one of the spookier features they saw in the park is a rock formation called the Devil's Head. In this photo, Auntie Julia doesn't seem too fazed by it, but I think it looks downright Halloween-y:

Speaking of things Halloween-y, since that holiday is just around the corner, I'm going to close by putting on my traditional costume to deliver . . .

Be safe on your trick-or-treat rounds, everybody. And to Auntie Julia, I hope this birthday is the happiest one ever!

                                                        Love,
                                                        Buddy

Saying Goodbye to Aunt/Cousin Hazel

One of Mike's favorite relatives died on the 2nd of September. Also the family's longest-living member, she would have turned 94 today. Mike says there were many things he loved about her, including her sense of humor and her pecan pie.

One of the most special and unique things about this relative was the "double" relationship she had with his immediate family. They called her their "Aunt/Cousin Hazel," since that's exactly what she was. She and Grandma Grace were first cousins, because the two of them shared a set of grandparents on the Neeld side. Aunt/Cousin Hazel's father and Grandma Grace's mother were brother and sister. (Are you keeping this straight? There might be a pop quiz!)

Here is a picture of Grandma Grace (left) with Aunt/Cousin Hazel, taken at the 2008 Boyd reunion:

They used to go to Neeld reunions, too. Every year. Their shared grandparents were William Pingree Neeld and Mary Emma Leonardy Neeld, who are shown in this 1924 photograph:

The Neeld connection between Grandma and Hazel means that Mike and Hazel were first cousins once removed. Which suggests, by extension and with a little imagination, that Hazel and I were adoptive first cousins twice removed.

Now keep stirring the plot while it thickens:

Mike's dad, Grandpa George, was the oldest of five siblings. The second-born, Robert, grew up to marry Grandma's Cousin Hazel, thus setting himself and his bride up to become M's "Uncle Bob and Aunt Hazel." Here's a picture of Bob and Hazel Boyd from back in the day:

I didn't know Aunt/Cousin Hazel very well, having met her only once, at a Boyd reunion four years ago. I wish we'd had more chances to see each other, because I can tell she was the type of person I'd enjoy hanging out with. But in recent years she lived way up in the top part of Georgia, and I just don't travel long distances very well.

Here are a couple of pictures Mike took of Aunt/Cousin Hazel at that 2012 reunion:

The "Happy Birthday" tiara in her hair is in celebration of her 90th birthday, which had been a few weeks earlier.

And here's one of M's favorite pics of her--from her 89th birthday party, which we were unable to attend:

Doesn't she just exude cool?

Now that you've seen Aunt/Cousin Hazel as a mature lady, we thought it would be nice to show her at a much younger age--just over a year-and-a-half. Here she is, Dorothy Hazel Neeld--the tow-headed toddler on the right--in the arms of her mother, Clyde Margaret Powell Neeld. And to their right is Hazel's daddy, Paul Sawrie Neeld, holding her older sister, Mary Margaret Neeld.

This is the earliest "family picture" we have of Aunt/Cousin Hazel. It was taken on Saturday, May 24, 1924. For that matter, so was the black-and-white picture, above, of Hazel and Grandma Grace's grandparents, William and Emma Neeld.

Now you may have noticed that in the pic of William and Emma, there are other "people parts" showing, and you might well wonder if all of these Neelds are pieces of a bigger picture. And you would be right--they're borrowed from the humongous Neeld family portrait (38 people in all!) I featured in three separate blog posts during April and May of 2015. If that seems excessive, well, I apologize. But not too much, because that picture is the most amazingly good family portrait I think I've ever seen. I mean, how in the world do you get 38 people, especially relatives, to hold still and shut up long enough to take a decent picture?

For your convenience, I'm going to re-post the entire Neeld family portrait--and I promise this is the last time I intend to blog it. Because I want to point out one important thing about it: Now that Aunt/Cousin Hazel has left us, nobody in that picture is still alive. The next-to-last departure was Hazel's Cousin Grace, on May 27, 2011.

And now we'll wish our Aunt/Cousin Hazel bon voyage and say, "Happy 94th birthday, dear one, wherever you are!"

A Dog's Tale

Keeping a blog is getting old. I told Mike that I might try my paw at something different--writing a novel, perhaps. He said that before I start, I should do a little research on the whole process. He recommended that I check out the story of a well-known dog who set out down the fictional path to fame and riches: Snoopy.

With gratitude to Mr. Charles M. Schultz, here's what I learned (click to enlarge):

On further review, maybe I'll stick to blogging.

Fiddler on the Roof Redux

The following is a paid political announcement. Mike paid me to post it here by giving me an extra Milk Bone this morning.

It seems that Donald Trump went to someplace called Detroit today to pander for votes. While it's not known whether the people there promised to vote for him in the coming presidential election, they did give him a snazzy prayer shawl.

Donald felt so moved by the gift, he broke into song.

And here's what he sang:

If I were a rich man,
Daidle deedle daidle
Daidle daidle deedle daidle dumb

All day long I'd biddy-biddy-bum
If I were a wealthy man.

I wouldn't have to work hard,
Daidle deedle daidle
Daidle daidle deedle daidle dumb

If I were a biddy-biddy rich,
Daidle deedle daidle daidle man.  I'd build a

. . . big tall house with rooms by the dozen
Right in the middle of the town,
With my name in golden letters plastered on the side.
There would be one long escalator going up
And one even longer coming down,
And I'd ride 'em all day with my hot little trophy bride . . .

The boy seriously needs to learn to stick with the script!

Five Generations of Boyds - TBT

I think this is a cool family picture to post on a Throwback Thursday, since it includes not just Mike and his father and grandfather, but also one of his daughters and his baby grandson--FIVE generations in all. The mind boggles!

And here's a more recent picture of that little baby, taken during his lunchbreak at the military post where he now works. He's the tall guy on the right. As you might guess, eating lunch turned out to be something of a hobby for him--along with breakfast, supper, snacks, high tea . . .

Bear with me, folks.

I'm a bit shook up over this picture that my friend John, who lives next door, took recently.

Fortunately he wasn't at home when he snapped it. He was a couple of blocks away, at somebody else's house. But you can bet I'll be taking a good look out of our window before I go outside.

Thanks for the heads-up, John!

I've had crazy dreams before, but this beats everything.

I tend these days to nod off a lot in front of the TV, and I think it's making me have even stranger dreams than usual. Here's an example:

Darned if I can figure it out. Interpretations, anyone?

Donald Trump's Hair

Erstwhile in these pages, we've noted the strong tonsorial similarity between a certain spoiled rich guy and a Highland cow:

The other night I heard this song on a TV show. Written and performed by a lady named Kacey Jones, it gets right to the heart of the resemblance. Behold "Donald Trump's Hair":

I still miss someone.

I know this ol' country song on YouTube is about humans missing other humans. But today it's about a dog missing his Grandma Grace and Grandpa George.

Happy birthday, Grandpa!
I still miss you both! A lot!

Love,
Buddy

Dude, where's my kitchen?

A few weeks ago, Mike and Jeannie started packing our kitchen stuff--pots, pans, dishes, and even food--into big boxes and moving them to other rooms in the house, especially the bedroom:

A lot of other things went unpacked, but were moved into the dining room, so that it began to look like a little bitty kitchen, itself:

M kept feeding me in our regular kitchen, right on schedule, so I didn't think too much about these strange events.

But then last week M and J stopped letting me go into the kitchen. Instead, a bunch of men I'd never seen were going in and out with tools and creating all kinds of horrific noise and clouds of dust, and suddenly I was having to eat my meals in the bathroom.

A few days ago things seemed to settle down again. The men disappeared, and I was allowed back into the kitchen to take a look. I couldn't believe my eyes:

 "Oh no you dih-unt!" I said. "Where'd the kitchen go? Where are the cabinets? Where's the ceiling?"

"It's all being replaced," M replied. "It'll look great in a few days. Just wait and see."

Today the ceiling is back--somewhat higher than it used to be--and the walls have a fresh coat of paint. M says we're getting all new cabinets, a new window, a new stove, and double outward-opening doors on the pantry.

"What about the fridge?" I pressed him. Right now it's in the dining room, where it takes up almost the whole place. The dishwasher is out in the garage.

He assured me that everything will soon be back where it belongs, though rearranged a bit.

I'll let you know . . .

Updated Monday, May 30, 2016

Okay--I guess I can live with this:

There's one nice thing about wildflowers.

Actually there are lots of nice things about them. But one of the best is that they pretty much grow themselves:

That's really handy, because while Mike and I love to work in the garden, we agree that the chore we like the most is this one:

Oh my, yes . . .