Vacation is over. we're home now, and we had a wonderful time. want to hear the highlights?
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
CHARGE!
We watched the villagers charge the manger (the soldier in the back gave the order to CHARGE!)
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Christmas letter--this year I copped out because of my Ken situation. I just don't have the energy or time to write my usual personal, touching, affectionate notes with each Christmas card I send. I'm sending this instead.
December 2008
I’m afraid time is at a premium this year, so I’m turning to mass production. There’s nothing startling to report, but life is good.
Winter was what one would expect in the North Country. The highlight/lowlight of January was a 3-day power outage--long enough to fill my cellar with 3 feet of water. My non-submersible water pump survived submersion, as did the sump pump. Birds at the feeders included ever-present chickadees, downy and hairy woodpeckers, pine siskins, a few redpolls, screaming blue jays, evening grosbeaks (though not in numbers I used to have) and, as a treat, pine grosbeaks. There was enough snow to make me kneel to stick my head down into the garbage can where I store birdseed, to fill the scoop. That’s my measure of “yes, we had plenty of snow.”
An appealing 15” beagle named Uno 
won Best in Show at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, vindicating rabbit hunters everywhere and making me smile.
Silver Lake’s ice was 18” thick in February.
March was especially unkind, -26 at one point. I earned bragging rights that month: I got my car stuck in snow perpendicularly across my driveway. The sides of the driveway were concrete-hard plowed banks 3’ high, and I managed to have both front and back bumpers jammed against them. I was forced to do what I truly hate: ask for help. My friends the Brousseau brothers picked up my Civic, turning it so it no longer looked like a cruel joke. I live in a place where friends never hesitate to answer a call for help.
An Easter trip to my mother’s in Rhode Island 
provided me with the thrill of walking on bare ground as well as a visit with my niece Jenica and her husband Drew. I brought home a big fat goldfish, the bully of the RI fish community. He’s now the sole inhabitant of the tank on my desk at work—we look to each other for inspiration from time to time.
The ice went out of the lake on April 23rd-- about average. Life proceeded apace, with black flies and hummingbirds arriving at the same time in early May. The lake community kept close track of a young loon as it spent the summer swimming between its parents, learning how to be a loon. Because the female adult was banded, we learned that she is 6 years old and came from a neighboring lake. We had two pairs of very vocal adult loons on the lake this year.
I revisited my Midwestern roots in July, spending time in rural Wisconsin with friends from elementary/junior/senior high school. There were 18 of us staying together. A ride on the Duck in the Dells, 
a guided nature walk (plenty of sand hill cranes) and being introduced live on NPR’s Whad’ya Know? while being Betsy Rogers again.
My sister took her annual summer trip from Italy and we spent two weeks with my mother in Rhode Island: great beach days
, perfect ocean, early morning dog walks, and delicious seafood. We learned more than enough about jellyfish—at one point the Atlantic was filled with millions (yes, millions) of tiny jellyfish, the size of a contact lens. As Jenica said, it was like swimming in a sea of ice cubes: in the water they’re hard. Washed up on the beach, exposed to air, they turn gooey and disgusting. Really—REALLY not a pleasant nautical experience.
The cat
demonstrated her hunting prowess throughout the summer. No ordinary cat, she slaughtered a dozen pygmy shrews and two kangaroo mice. The dogs, also special, roused a resting skunk under the house. The smell wafted into the living room, but only altered their fine perfume for a few days. Vinegar is vaguely effective as an odor eater.
I’m happy, healthy and truly enjoy where I live. I’m still pleased to be a librarian. I’ve got 10 cords of wood stacked and ready, new snow tires, down jacket, new boots, birdfeeders hung and full, driveway plowed—I’m ready for whatever winter brings. First, though, I’m off to Rhode Island for a chance to walk on bare ground at Christmas.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
From my sister's blog. I tried #4 yesterday. It was not easy. It's not easy if you think you have entertaining anecdotes to share. #2--This morning I tried to think of one subject I could think about. I decided I'm not very creative. I like #8 as a philosophy of life. #11--Twelve random tasks, huh. That would be easy if they all involved house cleaning things. Let me work on expanding that.
1. Spend an hour each day without saying anything except in answer to direct questions, in the midst of the usual group, without creating the impression that you’re sulking or ill. Be as ordinary as possible. But do not volunteer remarks or try to draw out information.
2. Think for 30 minutes a day about one subject exclusively. Start with five minutes.
3. Write a letter without using the words I, me, mine, my.
4. Talk for 15 minutes a day without using I, me, my, mine.
5. Write a letter in a “successful” or placid tone. No misstatements, no lying. Look for aspects or activities that can be honestly reported that way.
6. Pause on the threshold of any crowded room and size it up.
7. Keep a new acquaintance talking about himself or herself without allowing him to become conscious of it. Turn back any courteous reciprocal questions in a way that your auditor doesn’t feel rebuffed.
8. Talk exclusively about yourself and your interests without complaining, boasting, or boring your companions.
9. Cut “I mean” or “As a matter of fact” or any other verbal mannerism out of your conversation.
10. Plan two hours of a day and stick to the plan.
11. Set yourself twelve tasks at random: e.g., go twenty miles from home using ordinary conveyance; go 12 hours without food; go eat a meal in the unlikelist place you can find; say nothing all day except in answer to questions; stay up all night and work.
12. From time to time, give yourself a day when you answer “yes” to any reasonable request.
From: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/gretchen-rubin/12-surprising-and-product_b_147769.html
She says to go to http://www.scribd.com/doc/4710154/Dorothea-Brande-Wake-Up-and-Live for more information, and there I found the whole book Wake Up and Live online.
1. Spend an hour each day without saying anything except in answer to direct questions, in the midst of the usual group, without creating the impression that you’re sulking or ill. Be as ordinary as possible. But do not volunteer remarks or try to draw out information.
2. Think for 30 minutes a day about one subject exclusively. Start with five minutes.
3. Write a letter without using the words I, me, mine, my.
4. Talk for 15 minutes a day without using I, me, my, mine.
5. Write a letter in a “successful” or placid tone. No misstatements, no lying. Look for aspects or activities that can be honestly reported that way.
6. Pause on the threshold of any crowded room and size it up.
7. Keep a new acquaintance talking about himself or herself without allowing him to become conscious of it. Turn back any courteous reciprocal questions in a way that your auditor doesn’t feel rebuffed.
8. Talk exclusively about yourself and your interests without complaining, boasting, or boring your companions.
9. Cut “I mean” or “As a matter of fact” or any other verbal mannerism out of your conversation.
10. Plan two hours of a day and stick to the plan.
11. Set yourself twelve tasks at random: e.g., go twenty miles from home using ordinary conveyance; go 12 hours without food; go eat a meal in the unlikelist place you can find; say nothing all day except in answer to questions; stay up all night and work.
12. From time to time, give yourself a day when you answer “yes” to any reasonable request.
From: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/gretchen-rubin/12-surprising-and-product_b_147769.html
She says to go to http://www.scribd.com/doc/4710154/Dorothea-Brande-Wake-Up-and-Live for more information, and there I found the whole book Wake Up and Live online.
"I love America" -- David Byrne
From an article in today's Washington Post, reporting on an investigation by the Congressional committee's into Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac mortgage practices--
Lawmakers investigating what led to the collapse of Fannie and Freddie accused the richly-compensated executives of greed, recklessness and helping to cause the financial crisis.
From an article in today's Washington Post, reporting on an investigation by the Congressional committee's into Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac mortgage practices--
Lawmakers investigating what led to the collapse of Fannie and Freddie accused the richly-compensated executives of greed, recklessness and helping to cause the financial crisis.
The committee released e-mails, memos, presentations and other documents showing that top executives at Fannie and Freddie were warned years ago that moving into new, risky areas of the mortgage market posed significant dangers to the companies and borrowers.
“These documents make clear that Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac knew what they were doing," Waxman said. "Their own risk managers raised warning after warning about the dangers of investing heavily in the subprime and alternative mortgage markets."
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Hello, Dorothy?
No, I'm not in Kansas anymore. This is what the foot of the lake looks like at -13 degrees. This was yesterday morning at 7:00. The white in the foreground, just beyond the trees, is ice with a dusting of snow. Beyond that is open water, smoking away in the cold. The lake won't freeze over by Christmas this year, that's for sure.
I haven't been around much for the last while. Ken has been gravely ill, a slow heart rate which lead to oxygen deprivation, coupled with dehydration and being poisoned by blood thinners. He's been in the hospital for 2 weeks and is now a greatly improved patient. Is walking with a walker (which sounds not great but trust me, is incredibly good), is eating (again, more exciting than can be believed--half a bowl of oatmeal and 1/2 cup of ice cream, 2 bottles of Ensure a day for 3 weeks before hospitalization), and now is cross because he can't go home until tomorrow. He agreed to having a pacemaker put in, at the insistence of his sons, so now his heart rate is up from 50 to 70 and he's much improved.
I've been working extra hours every day so I can spend 1 1/2 hours with him at lunch time and I go there every night after work at 5 and stay until nearly 8. Sometimes Bill and I overlap, sometimes not. Sometimes I put Ken to bed, sometimes Bill does. on it goes. When he goes home he'll have a relative (Stevie, who's an angel, and the neighborhood contractor) stay with him all morning. I'll stop by every evening on my way home to get him something to eat. Maybe a Medicare nurse can spend time with him. He's agreed to MedicAlert (milestone!) and I'll sleep with my phone by the bed (yes, Ken, yes, I reassure him constantly). He worries about being alone at night but I showed him that he can get out of bed on his own and can get to the bathroom (this is a huge concern for the elderly--just you wait, everyone, we'll be there soon enough).
So we have winter, we have work, we have Christmas, we have a house that's been trashed, we have well-behaved and loving dogs and a needy cat who got shut in the bedroom yesterday but still wanted to spend the evening in there. We have good wood to burn but couldn't get the house warmer than 54 last night. What's up with that? Got home too late, finally just went to bed. It's warmer today and I'll get home earlier, no grocery shopping tonight.
I hope this doesn't sound whiny, I'm not suffering. It's true, I'm tired of room 432 and Mr. Brooks, the deaf roommate who watched Spanish TV until his daughter said "They're speaking Spanish!" and changed the channel. He's leaving today and hardly ever had any company so Bill & I chatted with him & I tucked him in once in a while. He & Ken "raced" each other to the bathroom (think 2 old men with bare butts and walkers) and spent inordinate amounts of time in there.
I think this may be easier than doing it for my mother will be--I have a lot of patience with Ken, and he and I have many, many long-standing jokes we share. At any rate, it's certainly good practice.
So I guess I have enough time to write this. I have nothing else to report. I spent most of last weekend at the hospital. But I promise myself that this weekend belongs to ME. A visit or 2 with Ken, but at least he'll be in Hawkeye instead of 30 miles away.
I haven't been around much for the last while. Ken has been gravely ill, a slow heart rate which lead to oxygen deprivation, coupled with dehydration and being poisoned by blood thinners. He's been in the hospital for 2 weeks and is now a greatly improved patient. Is walking with a walker (which sounds not great but trust me, is incredibly good), is eating (again, more exciting than can be believed--half a bowl of oatmeal and 1/2 cup of ice cream, 2 bottles of Ensure a day for 3 weeks before hospitalization), and now is cross because he can't go home until tomorrow. He agreed to having a pacemaker put in, at the insistence of his sons, so now his heart rate is up from 50 to 70 and he's much improved.
I've been working extra hours every day so I can spend 1 1/2 hours with him at lunch time and I go there every night after work at 5 and stay until nearly 8. Sometimes Bill and I overlap, sometimes not. Sometimes I put Ken to bed, sometimes Bill does. on it goes. When he goes home he'll have a relative (Stevie, who's an angel, and the neighborhood contractor) stay with him all morning. I'll stop by every evening on my way home to get him something to eat. Maybe a Medicare nurse can spend time with him. He's agreed to MedicAlert (milestone!) and I'll sleep with my phone by the bed (yes, Ken, yes, I reassure him constantly). He worries about being alone at night but I showed him that he can get out of bed on his own and can get to the bathroom (this is a huge concern for the elderly--just you wait, everyone, we'll be there soon enough).
So we have winter, we have work, we have Christmas, we have a house that's been trashed, we have well-behaved and loving dogs and a needy cat who got shut in the bedroom yesterday but still wanted to spend the evening in there. We have good wood to burn but couldn't get the house warmer than 54 last night. What's up with that? Got home too late, finally just went to bed. It's warmer today and I'll get home earlier, no grocery shopping tonight.
I hope this doesn't sound whiny, I'm not suffering. It's true, I'm tired of room 432 and Mr. Brooks, the deaf roommate who watched Spanish TV until his daughter said "They're speaking Spanish!" and changed the channel. He's leaving today and hardly ever had any company so Bill & I chatted with him & I tucked him in once in a while. He & Ken "raced" each other to the bathroom (think 2 old men with bare butts and walkers) and spent inordinate amounts of time in there.
I think this may be easier than doing it for my mother will be--I have a lot of patience with Ken, and he and I have many, many long-standing jokes we share. At any rate, it's certainly good practice.
So I guess I have enough time to write this. I have nothing else to report. I spent most of last weekend at the hospital. But I promise myself that this weekend belongs to ME. A visit or 2 with Ken, but at least he'll be in Hawkeye instead of 30 miles away.
visitors
These duckies hang around the hospital all the time. Year round, I think. They're very sweet. My father would have enjoyed seeing this.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving in RI--always a nice thing for me. Bare ground, t-shirt weather (for me, anyway). Mark's flowers, inspiring as always. Two silver serving dishes: two kinds of lima beans, Fordhook and baby limas (one for each of those who have a preference--I can't get Fordhooks where I live). Note in foreground the boiled onions and squash. My mother committed an unforgivable sin by allowing the squash to touch the onions. Mark HATES winter squash. Liza HATES summer squash. Maybe this will be the year I can remember who HATES which season's squash.
fore 'n aft
Mark likes to call this "Before and after." The plate shows Before and, obviously the pretty bird (turkey is a pretty bird, pretty bird turkey) is the after. There's our stuffing spoon, the mainstay of our Thanksgiving celebrations. We love it.
tgiving 08 045
There was a lot of this. He's reading the URI student publication. Poems, a short story or two and, oddly, three term papers that were really boring. Liza was defensive of the students' efforts. Mark and I thought the students haven't experienced much of life but don't know that yet.
zzzzz
No, they don't really care who's doing what. They like Liza's couches. And one chair. Just one chair--the other isn't quite right.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Whiteface on 112408
Here's where I was today. Well, not ON the mountain, but looking at it from here.
It was 4 degrees yesterday morning at my house. Truly, there's plenty of time for that sort of thing. Is it necessary to have that in November? There are those here who say "Well, after all--it's late November." Then there are those of my ilk, who say "What the hell, it's only November!"
It was 4 degrees yesterday morning at my house. Truly, there's plenty of time for that sort of thing. Is it necessary to have that in November? There are those here who say "Well, after all--it's late November." Then there are those of my ilk, who say "What the hell, it's only November!"
Friday, November 14, 2008
oct weekend 029
I was just told that, when it gets to be a month since you've blogged, it's time to return. OK, fair enough. No, there's not much to report ("well, you must have been doing SOMETHING!"). yes, I suppose since early October I've been alive and well. Work, dogs, cat, beauty of place, relative peace, lots of Ken. Just the usual I think.
This was the other side of the lake in October. Oct. was a good month, lots of people still around. Linda left after Columbus Day. I miss her but we've both adjusted to our lives. I'm muddling along, trying to figure out the best way to lose weight. so far not good. There was a mean, trick mirror in the hotel I just stayed in, that made me look very very fat--like, repulsively fat. So now I'm shamed into action. No more big bowls of granola, pretending it's good for me.
That's about the only thing that's going wrong these days. I guess.
This was the other side of the lake in October. Oct. was a good month, lots of people still around. Linda left after Columbus Day. I miss her but we've both adjusted to our lives. I'm muddling along, trying to figure out the best way to lose weight. so far not good. There was a mean, trick mirror in the hotel I just stayed in, that made me look very very fat--like, repulsively fat. So now I'm shamed into action. No more big bowls of granola, pretending it's good for me.
That's about the only thing that's going wrong these days. I guess.
oct weekend 032
What would a sunny Silver Lake day be without a rock underwater shot?
This looks like an animal's pretty hide, I think. Still attached to the animal, of course.
Everyone in the neighborhood was disgusted with one of the renters because he shot a small (think barely bigger than a cub) bear and hung it from his porch roof. Yes, you do hang your kill here, but he kept his up for a long time so everyone could get a good look. I don't understand why people hunt bears here, but it happens. One day when I drove by he was skinning it. YUCKA PUCKA. Now everyone thinks he's a quadruple triple multiple jerk
This looks like an animal's pretty hide, I think. Still attached to the animal, of course.
Everyone in the neighborhood was disgusted with one of the renters because he shot a small (think barely bigger than a cub) bear and hung it from his porch roof. Yes, you do hang your kill here, but he kept his up for a long time so everyone could get a good look. I don't understand why people hunt bears here, but it happens. One day when I drove by he was skinning it. YUCKA PUCKA. Now everyone thinks he's a quadruple triple multiple jerk
oct weekend 047
Looks as if we're just waiting for someone to come along and have a seat. October was a great month but the color wasn't particularly spectacular. Breathtaking, yes, but not spectacular. Who can complain.
oct weekend 034
yellows come pretty much at the end. This is what I saw when I sat on the boat house porch.
early nov 001
Heavy frost, the order of the day. Yes, that's firewood that hadn't been piled yet. Now taken care of, thanks to Bill's PINS (persons in need of supervision).
early nov 006
And yes, we had this. This is looking down my driveway. We had 8" of heavy wet snow one night. I'm getting smarter every year (well, a girl can hope) and parked my car at the end of the driveway. I had to slug through the snow, knee deep in spots, for a few days. We don't plow until the ground freezes. Couldn't get a plow through the trees anyway.
early nov 009
I worried about trees breaking off--they're pretty susceptible to that when there's heavy snow before their sap freezes. Only a couple of smaller ones broke, even though these guys look really desperate.
early nov 017
I boarded the dogs for 2 days while I went to a conference (the state lib. conference--in Saratoga). This is the road to the kennel. I used to have the best-ever kennel, with 3 fenced-in acres and the most efficient and cleanest kennel person, but Joan moved away (to Potsdam, no less). Now I use a kennel run by a woman whose husband died last year or so. She's disorganized, goofy and her kennel is all concrete and smells like pee pee. She walks the dogs 4 times a day, though, and gives them treats. At Joan's the dogs came back smelling like cedar (from the bedding). At Eileen's (I just found out her name is Eileen--I've been calling her Elaine--and I call HER goofy) they smell sort of like pee pee. I shouldn't complain, it's a nice enough place and I don't worry about them at all. I miss Joan.
early nov 018
The Saranac River--part of the road to the kennel runs along the river. It's awfully pretty.
early nov 014
The kennel driveway. This may be pretty boring, but I think it's a pretty place to have a kennel. Too bad the kennel's not as nice as it's neighborhood...
early nov 015
Next door neighbors. Tess barked a fond farewell at these guys when we drove by. "Hah! I'm leaving for greener pastures!"
early nov 023
After I rescued the dogs from their private hell (with the crazy lady) I stopped at the cemetery in Saranac. I drive past it every day. There's this monument to the Civil War dead, this soldier standing high above the crowd. My mother once pointed out to me that he leaned backward at a pretty severe angle. This time when I checked on him I remembered that the town plunked some money into straightening him out. rats, I liked his ability to keep his balance while getting ready to do a backbend. Or do the limbo. Or just stand out in a crowd.
early nov 026
Who remembers when we were called Commie Pinkos? Poor Sister Jeanette, not only was she a spinster, she was a Pinko as well.
early nov 038
I seem to be dreaming about my brother fairly often these days. Mostly I dream that he's alive but has an incurable, fatal problem--lots of times it's a brain tumor. Last night I dreamed that I had to sit next to Ken's "other" son Karl at Henry's (or Buck, as many called him) funeral. Now THAT is what we call a nightmare.
early nov 053
And this is Catamount from the foot of the lake, last week. Yes, it was as cold as it looks.
moon me
I almost always get to see something especially pretty on my way to/from Saranac Lake on Wednesdays. This is what there was this week. A full moon rising (thank you, CCR) over the mountains. This is that ever-favorite spot, Alder Brook. I like this shot because you get the feeling of the time of day as well as the temperature. Cold dusk. November weather for sure.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
mine
I was feeling as if I deserved something special and as if I could afford it, so I bought a locket. I don't think I've ever had anything monogrammed or with my initials on it before, so I think this is really neat. I searched for one that's small, about half an inch wide. Way cool.
them
This is what's inside the locket. It's not easy to find tiny pictures of people. I know, Henry has his eyes closed, but you can tell it's him. In some of the pictures I found you couldn't tell who it was, the figures were so small.
I really like the picture of Molly. I took it at a beach picnic. Mark used to have us go on beach picnics Sunday nights. He would take china plates, real glassware, of course a nice tablecloth, naturally gin & tonics. We'd sit on the beach, watch the waves until the sun went down (or something like that). It was nice, but sometimes cold.
Anyway, this is sort of like the Jackson Browne song "you were turning around to see who was behind you." That's as much of the lyrics it's like because the rest of the song is sad. Molly looks happy and great in the picture, doesn't she?
I love my locket. I love my siblings. I like the idea that I have them so close to me all the time. sappy, huh, but I miss my brother desperately, and my sister lives far away.
I really like the picture of Molly. I took it at a beach picnic. Mark used to have us go on beach picnics Sunday nights. He would take china plates, real glassware, of course a nice tablecloth, naturally gin & tonics. We'd sit on the beach, watch the waves until the sun went down (or something like that). It was nice, but sometimes cold.
Anyway, this is sort of like the Jackson Browne song "you were turning around to see who was behind you." That's as much of the lyrics it's like because the rest of the song is sad. Molly looks happy and great in the picture, doesn't she?
I love my locket. I love my siblings. I like the idea that I have them so close to me all the time. sappy, huh, but I miss my brother desperately, and my sister lives far away.
Bog hostess
This is Tess, exhausted from a great day of being the official Bog Hostess. If I don't stop her early enough on the weekend she runs (think FAST) to the bog next door to meet & greet the people coming for a picnic or nature walk. Mostly the people love her and feed her sandwiches when they get to the top of the bluffs. Some people send her home, some people drive her home, some people call her later in the day to make sure she got home all right. Once a woman drove her to West Plattsburgh, half an hour away, then called to tell me she had and didn't know the bog was on my road. I drove half an hour to get her. There's no cell phone service in the area, which complicates things.
It's not a good situation because I worry that someone will take her home. She has a tag with her personal information, including contact info. for RI (the last phone call was from some people who live in RI). Everyone loves her. Lots of times I go to the trailhead and ask if people have seen my brown dog. They always say yes and tell me what a wonderful dog she is. Sometimes I catch her greeting or bidding farewell to her new-found friends. Sometimes she jumps in their cars. She comes home exhillerated and full of new stories to share with Chances. She sure is cute, though.
It's not a good situation because I worry that someone will take her home. She has a tag with her personal information, including contact info. for RI (the last phone call was from some people who live in RI). Everyone loves her. Lots of times I go to the trailhead and ask if people have seen my brown dog. They always say yes and tell me what a wonderful dog she is. Sometimes I catch her greeting or bidding farewell to her new-found friends. Sometimes she jumps in their cars. She comes home exhillerated and full of new stories to share with Chances. She sure is cute, though.
taking a break
When she's not sitting near the window, monitoring all outdoor noises (or snoring so loudly that NO ONE could hear them), or barking at our car, this is what Chances does.
When Tess is bog walking C. worries a lot about her. She looks out the window every time she hears a noise, which is hell on her on a windy day.
When Tess is bog walking C. worries a lot about her. She looks out the window every time she hears a noise, which is hell on her on a windy day.
Leroy
This is the goldfish I have at work. He's on the shelf above my desk. I watch him a lot, usually while I'm trying to think of what to write next, what subject heading would be the perfect one, what to do next, what groceries I should get on the way home, etc.
His name is Leroy because (I've probably posted this) he was bullying the fish in Liza's tank. Our neighborhood bully in Hawkeye is Leroy, so it seemed an OK name. Why do I assume that a bully is male? What would the feminine form of Leroy be?
He's huge, about 4" so far and now growing into his new, larger tank. He's a big boy, just like his human counterpart.
His name is Leroy because (I've probably posted this) he was bullying the fish in Liza's tank. Our neighborhood bully in Hawkeye is Leroy, so it seemed an OK name. Why do I assume that a bully is male? What would the feminine form of Leroy be?
He's huge, about 4" so far and now growing into his new, larger tank. He's a big boy, just like his human counterpart.
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