Weekly Photo Challenge: Pattern

Patterns are everywhere, aren’t they?

I was tramping through Valley Forge National Historical Park, and this pattern stood out atop the green field that covers that land’s tragic history:

Neatly aligned artillery

 

Through the spokes.

Then, after dashing into a soldiers’ hut to wait out a rainstorm’s artillery barrage of the park, I looked up at the ceiling to see another pattern:

Astonishingly symmetrical wasps’ nests.

These are paper wasp nests, probably last year’s models, constructed by wasp queens. Since there was no activity, I must have been the only queen in the hut at the time. (Phew!)

 

 

mONkey’S biZness

hEY! hEY YOU!! OH WAIT . . upnuujk;loj; wheres that *!(*# shift key

Okay, that’s b.ETTer . . .better. Mad Queen’s gone, Monkey here. ARe you out there, peeps/? Not much time, have things I got to tell you, things you need to no KNOW.

See, we been travellin lately, me and my Mad Queen. USED to be just me and Mad’s hub on the GO (she’d be pissed if she heard me calling her MAD, but she ain’t in the room, is she? Ha!) but now she quit that job thing mAD’s got her panties packed too. I’m finall y gettin out of that *()&^&(P backpack Mad’s hub kept me in and I’m seein it I tell ya –seein the FREAKIN world alrea.dy! Savannah bone connects to THE ATHENS Ga. boan connects to the Raleigh bone connects to the Porto Rico arriba!! bone!! Monkey rocks Tommy Bahama!!!

Typin with my toes

Now listen listen ,, Im goin to help you with yOUR travel. Help you save a little $cha-ching$ so’s you can buy more bananas. This ain’t no  monkEYS on typewriters scientifical theory stuff, this is the REAL THING. I no know what I’m talkin here.

First, get that air-o-line plastic. 30,000 free miles gets you there — all you gotta buy is a package of TicTacs and pay the bill on time — bam, free flight, get it?? Probly get you on the aerojet at the HEAd of the line, too, stead of squeezin in like a *()*)& sausage waaaaaay back in Zone 10 and havin to smash your personAL travelin monkey under some sweaty guy’s coat in the o-verhead, know what I mean?? Might get you and yours each a free che cked bag, too. Each, hear me? It’s not all about you. And don’t make me tell u you to join the airline frequent flier programs. You ain’t that stupid that you havn’t done it yet. You ain’t. , ,. Tell me you ain’t. Some of em give you comeplanyen commpaneon companion certificates to fly your favorite monkey along. Can’t lose I’m tellin ya. Can’t[

Same with those hotel/motel/Holiday Inn sing it with me now! credit cards. Don't cost you no.thin to join them hotel point programs, then get their plastic. Add those pOInts up and bam! --you could be sleepin pretty in no time. Just pay the bill and you get the points. Simple (Monkey knows. dON'T believe? Go here (jerk)). Adds up. Transfer points for airplane rides too -- go farther -- zoom zoom!!

So, Mad's all hand-wringy about soap and shampoo. You no know, those little soaps and shampoos in the hotel/motel/Holiday Inn. Take em? Leave em? She's feelin all guilty about taking em, . Not Hub. He's takin' em. Monkey's with Hub on this. Mad ain't had to buy soap in 3 years. 3, I'm tellin ya. (And I know they're usin soap I seen em. And I ain't no peepin Tom so don't get all het up about it.) That brand soap or shampoo make your pretty nose all twitchy? Donate it. Not every Body's nose is as picky as yours.; Lotsa peeps and monkeys two be glad to .use it,.

Same thing with those head-phones on the airPlanes -- they're offerin, take em even if you don't waTCLH the Movie. They fit all kinds of electronics. Monkey's collecting the whole set!

Somewhere between Port-o-RIco and Hotlanta, Mad got into some Thing that sent her royal gut into overdrive. Maybe the rum cAke at the Bacardi factory? The s;alad at the  HOtel? That giant German beer down-town?? Wherever, Mad was a Smart Queen and had her pink Pepto along for the ride. Coulda been a looong night didn't she have it. Don't leave home without it.)( Not a bad idea to tote some pro-biotics too;; keep that happy bacteria hummin.

Some,times Mad and her Hub got to go where Unca Sam's got his mitts in everything. E--vry--thing. Can't even get a drink without doin double dutch jump rope for some gov's  sake. Those little airline liquor bottles work just fine refilled. Heck, they even go through TSA's carry-on poke & prod routine (and u you think I'm a peEping Tom??). Pack your own 90 proof.

Last hotel Mad & hub bunked at wanted $13 a day to peek into the WOrld Wide Weeb. $13 -- a day -- *)(%$& --!!!! How's a monkey gonna make $$ to buy Dole stock at that rate??&& Mad sledded into the 3Ws using the hotel lobby net-work and her netbook -- free as a Big BIrd. Just take your little comPUter into the lobby, sniff up the available wire-less nEtworks, and jumnp on!! $13 bucks, Geez. Must think I'm a monkey's uncle

Save! You! Money!

Pack a headlamp. Tell me you no know they’re the new sexy. Great for midnight pacing or reading, and saves Monkey’s eyes from blindING bathroom light.

ud98ew%^&$…/++ecjf Gotta swing    Mad’s comin dont tell her i was

 

 

Entrepreneurs, or snowpportunists?

Today’s edition of The New York Times contained a story about the just-completed snowpocalypse that buried a couple small states, turned off countless lights and furnaces, and stranded travelers in airports, workplaces and in their vehicles. I’m  wondering why people would venture onto the roadways with the abominable snowstorm lurching steadily toward them. The advance warning was as thorough as that for any hurricane (let’s say, maybe, Hurricane Sandy).

What really generated some discussion between Mike and I, though, was the paragraph about stranded motorist Joseph Calle, who paid a total of $100 to two strangers with shovels to help dig his car out of the snow. This wasn’t a matter of Mr. Calle offering the money; the going rate for the first shovel-bearer was $40 and $60 for the second. My knee-jerk reaction was disgust that there were people profiting from the misfortune of others during essentially life-threatening circumstances. This was not like knocking on the doors of warm houses with driveways that need to be shoveled to earn some extra cash. It seems more like a guerilla emerging from the jungle offering to free only those hostages being held who could pay upfront for the privilege.

Or does it? Maybe this is more like selling cold bottled water during a hot summer festival. The patron should have brought his own water but for whatever reason didn’t, thereby creating a need fulfilled by that much-admired American entity, the spur-of-the-moment entrepreneur. A thirst is quenched, a little cash is made, and both parties are happy. Are the shovel-bearing strangers simply entrepreneurs? They seem much more like opportunists to me. I know that many people endure financial hardship daily but does that entitle anyone to benefit from another’s misfortune?

I also thought that if Mr. Calle had offered the money for the assistance, rather than having it extracted (or extorted) from him, the transaction would be more acceptable. Any number of us have done a stranger a favor, or had a stranger help us in some way, where a grateful offer of cash was made at its conclusion. Perhaps the cash was taken, perhaps not — either way, there was a choice of its exchange, not a demand.

I don’t know why Mr. Calle, or many others stuck on the Long Island Expressway, chose to drive into harm’s way. I don’t need to know why. I do know, though, that there are far more helpful and generous people than there are heartless and mean-spirited, which is what the shovel-toting guerillas seem to me to be.

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Fog of war.

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Sometimes, you just have to find your own shoes.

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Ah ha.

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