REBEL ROGUE PLAYS CHESS

Rebel Rogue's playing chess!  I move, she countermoves, I move, she attacks, I move, she's right on my tail!

Why?  She's eating the cat's food.  
No matter where we move the bowl, Rebel Rogue finds it!

First, I moved Piper's, the black cat, set of black bowls  (one water, one food) off the deck to the grass.  Next thing I knew, empty.

Since Piper likes to eat about 3 times a day, I decided to keep an eye on the food bowl.  So, I moved it to the top of the picnic table which I can observe while in the house.  I was sure that that bird wouldn't flip and fly up to there.  She did.

Well, I'd had it.  Like a knight on a chess board I made an L-move.  Straight to the garage, open side door, go left, set food and water in there.  Leave door propped open just barely enough for a cat, but not a chicken.  Cat's will nudge something open.  If their head can get through, the rest of the body follows.  I was sure I'd outfoxed that chicken.

Later in the day, I went in to get a flat head screwdriver.  The bowls were empty.  That Rebel Rogue was contentedly perched on John's tool box sleeping.  SLEEPING!  Oh, the fire in my eyes!

I grabbed a broom, not knowing if she had the sense to leave the room via the door, and swung towards her, "Squa-awk!"  

SHE SCUTTLED STRAIGHT FOR THE DOOR!

Now, what to do!  Where will Piper find her food, and Rebel not?  This is getting to be a problem.  John says we might take Rebel home ourselves, if we can figure out how to catch her.

If he'd known in advance he might've caught her first thing yesterday's rainy morning.  She was sheltered in the wheel-well of the truck sleeping on top of the tire.

Rebel Rogue definitely knows how to hide.  The neighbor's dog Loco accompanied his owner to our door.  He gave us a repaired truck vacuum pump.  Loco went zooming around the fenced in part of the yard sniffing everywhere.  I mean she was excited, she was on the hunt!  

Loco, is a big, brown, loving, friendly, high energy, 2 y.o. German shepherd.  He raced around the fences sniffing and tail wagging.  He sniffed under left side of deck, backed out, sniffed frantically on south side of deck, backed out, tripped over his own hind legs, then went to the right side of the deck and about squished his whole body under there but only half would go.  

"She's definitely tuned into something!" said the dog's owner.  

But Rebel was hiding under low-hanging, touching the ground branches of the fir tree.  Loco never did locate her.  Check!

She thought she was gonna get us in check.

She discovered a comrade.  The sliding glass door reflected a red feathered chicken.  Thinking it was another just like herself, she kept pecking and visiting and clucking and pecking the glass.  The two of them were supposed to outwit the mistress of the house, you see.  Not!  I hung a rubber snake on the door handle!  They've not been back.  

CHECKMATE!

 
  .  

REBEL ROGUE ON THE RUN, CHICKEN RUN!

"SQUA-AWK!" the grandkids came!   Rebel Rogue had never seen them before!

Four of 'em.   

"Squa-awk!"  Run!  

Run, Rebel, run!

At crack of dawn, Rebel Rogue had happily pecked the ground and grass behind the log.  She wandered up onto the deck pacing in her backward knee bending style of walking.  

She watched and head-bobbed, bent and pecked, and watched again as the cat came onto the scene.

Then the grandkids came.  Immediately they discovered the new thing in the Roger Run, "A Chicken!" they squealed.

They ran!  Chicken ran!  

Miss Lilly didn't run.  She was afraid.  She backed into my skirts, body shivering, arms crossed over her chest, and eyes boring into that foreign feathered fowl watching as it moved across the yard to evade the others.  Until.  Until it went back under the tree and realized it was safe.  There Rebel stayed while the kids separated and did other play things.

They threw a blue Beanie Baby into the fork of a tree.   Jayden poked it with a stick to get it to fall down.  Miss Lilly climbed the tree to retrieve it. Then, they gathered on the stumpery with their sippy cups.  Alayna discovered her prowess using her body to connect a stump to the fence.  Noelle hid in the irises and behind the fir tree after dipping her hands into the little pond.  "Noelle, get out of there!"  

They plucked dandelions and made them into rings for fingers.
"GrammyPam, these are for you." said Jayden

And they made wands "This is my masterpiece," said Miss Lilly. 'Twas dandelions taped up and down a handsome stick 8 inches long.

With the four entertaining themselves, Rebel Rogue cautiously high-stepped it out from under spiky fir branches, head up, eye watching, checking for danger.  Deeming it safe, she began to peck some more.  

Last seen, before the night's storm came, she was high-stepping it from the yard stick the mistress of the house was wielding.  Mistress didn't appreciate all the evidence of a full-functioning fowl digestive system -- poop on deck.  

"Oh, crap!  RUN!"

"Run, CHICKEN, run!"

Yep, it's time for a chicken run!

REBEL ROGUE GROSS & GRODY

Rebel Rogue was roosting on the hood of my truck!!!!!!  Gag and yuck!  You know what they leave behind, don't you?  Little dark based piles coming to a white peak.  Oh, gross and grody!  Oh, Lord, oh, mighty!

Shaking my head, "No,no, no you don't!"  and waving my arms, I got out the yard stick (remember, it means nothing to a chicken) and whacked her a good one with a thump on the rump!  I do not want her to perch up there ever again, so I did aim to make contact (doing no harm).

"CLU-U-U-UCK", Rebel flew off!  Yes, a chicken can fly.

They fly low.  They fly short distances.  And even when perching they poop!

Poor John, my darling hubby, in his weakened state, after being sick for five days, he didn't realize how well-spaced and thoroughly Rebel had decorated the front deck with those piles.  As she's searching for the cat food, she leaves a trail in her quest.  I wish she'd just stay closer to her nest!  Anyway, he was being nice to Piper, the cat, giving her fresh water, when ...  ooops ... he slid.  One foot slid.  ICK!  He'd unwittingly stuck his foot in it -- a gross and grody pile. Now, we're cleaning deck and deck shoes!

I wondered if she knew how ticked we were at her!

This morning Rebel could be an item in a Highlights magazine's "Hidden Pictures" -- can't be found.  I'm watching Piper, our black cat, and Piper is watching to the right.  I suspect one of us knows where that Rebel Rogue is currently roosting.

REBEL ROGUE RESTING NICELY

Rebel Rogue is resting nicely in her nest, she'd had a tough morning.

With no rooster to crow up the eastern sun, she'd had to wake up on her own.  She'd pranced around surveying the landscape, giving me the one eye.

"Are you friend or foe?"  

"Are you feeding me?"  

"Where's that black cat?  Should I run?"

This red rogue chicken is a rebel, she'd came to the spot where the cat food's set.  She wasn't detoured by my throwing at her a small trash bag which I was on my way to toss into the dumpster.  There was no aim to hit, just to scare.

"CLUCK!  Cluck, cluck, cluck, clu-U-UCK!"  Off she'd scampered.

Cat got fed.  

But where's red?  No where.  

Turning back to the house I saw her sneaking from the other side, so I got my white yard stick from behind the door and chased her away from Piper's food. 

Sometime, after I'd taken darling hubby his breakfast, and Piper, the cat, had finished hers, that durned Rebel Rogue of a chicken returned.  Just when my back was turned!

This is going to be an expensive experience, dual residence of the feral feline and fowl!

Note, yard sticks mean nothing to a hungry and determined chicken.

Rebel's had a rough morning, and but she's resting nicely now, AFTER-ALL, she'd gotten to the cat food, she has a full belly!!!! 

Rebel Rogue Is Her Name

"Hey, Calvin, did you see the chicken?"  He swiveled his head to find the fowl.

"What shall we call her?  I think she's going to be here a while."

"Little Red Hen?"

"Just plain Red?"

"Chickie?"

"Rebel!"

"Rogue?"

"Bach-Bach?"

"Russell, Russet, Rusty?"

We threw out names and I explained how she "came to be."

             * * *

I heard weird noises outside, so I went to the front window and saw 3 people in the middle of the yard!  

"Can you believe that?  3 people out there in the middle of the grass hootin' and hollerin' ?  I didn't know who they were; they didn't come to the house to say "Hi", either."

One short, chubby, middle aged man was crouched down clapping his hands.  The other two, a few feet behind him, one an average height, muscular thin man, and a red-haired woman mid-sized, were watching from the side of a black car.

Then I spied this red feathered hen.  

She was strutting around, bobbing her head keeping an eyeball on those three.

She went to the crouched clapping man who tossed her a cracker.  He said "She's clapped trained."  

I didn't know what that was, so I asked him.  Supposedly, when he claps, the chickens come running.  Well, she wasn't about to cooperate, she took the cracker and ran!  Away!

Those people came up to me while we watched the hen scratch.  She investigated the dead leaves up there between us and the neighbors.  "Look, she's making a nest," one of them said.

I cautioned them, "Sammy and Charlie will eat her!"

"You mean your neighbors like grilling chicken?"

"No.  Sammy & Charlie are Australian Heelers.  Those dogs will eat her.  Shoot, they want to eat me!"

The other day the dogs' owner was rubbing their backs as they were growling at me and he said, "Oh now, calm down, be nice, you know Pam.  She's given you treats before, you know her.  And then they let out a loud rumble in their chests and barked all aggressive-like "WOOF!"  

Their mouths were wide open, their white fanged teeth were showing, and their legs were splayed.  Yah, they're friendly, alright.  Humpth.  There was going to be an onward assault, I was sure of it!

Shoot, they want to eat ME!

Those three were just about to give up.  Said they'd been here the day before, and would come back in the morning to try again if they couldn't catch her now.  

"It's not like she's essential," said the big man, "I've got 38 more.  We live just 2 miles away around the corner of the mile square."

"How'd she get here?"

Thin man came up, "Hi. Sorry.  I came to your neighbor's sale, Thursday.  I didn't know she'd rode over with me in my truck until I saw her jump out of the back of it.  I couldn't catch her, I had to leave."   And he grinned real wide, a friendly grin.

"But we're gonna catch her now."

Well, they didn't.  And it came up a rain the next day.  And they didn't.  And it's 4 days later, and they still didn't.

* * *

So, Calvin and I were watching this chicken as she made herself at home under the evergreen tree.  I was wondering if she'd laid any eggs somewhere.  He thought she was a rebel, probably enjoying not being one of a crowd.  She may have even been pecked on in that big group.  

I thought she was rogue; she didn't come when called, she didn't stay in, or out, of the fenced area, she wasn't the least bit personable, and by golly, you can't forget that she jumped a ride out of Dodge!

It was decided.  Rebel Rogue's her name, and saucy is her game.

 

.

My Phone Went Off, To Die!

My phone went off, it went off to die.

Like a dog going off to die, my phone left me.  Did it hear ... I'm on the hunt for a new phone?

Throughout the day -- morning Marco Polo to a friend, phone call to son, text message to hubby, messaging sis "Do you want some fast food from Arby's" -- my phone kept calling me.

Evidently it was solicitation day in cyber land, cause all the incoming calls began with 888!  By noon, and much to my chagrin, I'd had 12 phone calls.

We went on a days journey to the bank, to the post office, to the restaurant, to cousin's, to gas station, and to an indoor flea market, all the while my phone rang "Arriba, árriba, ándale, ándale" everywhere we went.  At last count there were 19 phone calls!

Once, 3/4 the way through the store, our baby granddaughter got her mother's phone and accidentally called us, ROFL.   

Again, with the hispanic ring tone!  And it wasn't quiet.  I'm a little hard of hearing, I've aggravated family members by NOT responding to phone calls, so we painstakingly went through all choices to find the one ringtone sharp and loud enough to get my attention.  Well....it gets everyones attention.  If I get separated from it, such as it's in my purse in the cart with hubby watching over it, I hear other customers laugh and talk about that ringtone with a Hispanic accent, "Árriba, andale, your phone is calling, pick it up, pick it up."  

That was it, I was embarrassed.

I muted it.  Volume down!  Evidently, that wasn't the thing to do.  It must've gotten hurt feelings.  It quit trying to get my attention.  It quit ringing altogether.  It didn't even vibrate.

We pulled off the road, opened all four doors, went through my purse, dumped all our bags, shoved hands under and between seats, and checked jacket pockets.  No android ZTE cellphone anywhere.

I decided it must've went off to die, because I haven't seen or heard from it since.

If I'm lucky it's in the cashier's lost and found drawer, screaming it's head off, "Árriba, árriba, andale, andale, your phone is ringing.  Pick it up, pick it up!  Holy Guacamole, it's your mo-bīle-fōne, Hey Juanita give me a fajita, Holy Nachos, pick it, pick it up, arrr, arr, arrr, cough."  

If all the robocalls haven't already killed it, I'm sure with that final cough, the cashier's bound to mail it away -- far, far away!  

I'll get me a new phone yet!

My Phone's Dying

Phone's dying.  It's 4 years old.  Memory's full, very full.   And now, I'm told it's being discontinued.  Gotta go from 4 g to 5 g.   By Christmas.  Sheesh, that soon?

Okay, if I gotta do that, may as well do it now before the big vacation and get a new cell phone with a great camera.

Researching begins.  Talk to friend who shares great pictures.  

Talk to sis who multi-tasks.  For example, while on the phone with me she checks her calendar, responds to other calls, and accesses stored pics.  Why, she can talk to me while she sends me a pic of what she's talking about....in the words of a child actor,  "How u do dat?"

I talk to nephew-in-law who's a successful cell phone salesman.  

Talk to all others, the brothers, and I research online.  Finally decided to shop, hands on.

"To Best Buy we go, hi ho the dairy oh, to Best Buy we go."

Then began the number crunching.  I mean they entered my brain and they piled up in there in a junk heap and then I had to crunch them.  With a mental shut down I crunched the numbers. 

My phone has 16 gb memory, camera has 5 pixels.  The Samsung Galaxy has 50 pixels, 200 mb and 2 gigs.  The one hubby loves Moto G is 5g, 48 mp and you don't have to sign a contract.  Then there's the new A53 coming out Wednesday which compares with the A52, and there's Google 6 which is a notch above the Google 4.  Motorola was the life long choice of one person.  The best is SSGX (Samsung Galaxy) S22 but needs to be willed away when you die.

The female clerk at Best Buy dropped her jaw when I pulled out of my purse my little blue case protected ZTE android phone.   

I told her, "Everyone's been saying, "You need to update."  But I've had this one 4 years."  I added, "It has 1,398 photos on it!"

With bugged eyes and open mouth, that clerk made an exhaled sound of disbelief,  "I've never ever seen a phone like that!"

 "To Xfinity we go, hi ho the dairy oh, to Xfinity we go."   

There's a nice display at Xfinity in their new building with a bent to selling phones not cable tv service.  The cell phone I was interested in had a little blue square paper of info affixed just below it.  The first line read "Get $200 off any iPhone at Xfinity Mobile."

So, I took my little blue cased android ZTE phone up to the clerk, "Do you think they'll give me $200 for this?"

Abrupt, succinct, he barely bothered to look as he kept typing. "No."

"Well, then, do you think they'd give me $20 for it?"

"Lady, they wouldn't want it!"

  

I love my little phone.  

It's been a journey, it's been with me through thick and thin, the east coast, exotic islands, grandkids, documenting injuries and wrecks, and a lifeline to family and friends.  

When the salesman removed the protective cover to check it's model number there was liquid under it.  Out came the wet wipes, as he chuckled, "We'll blame the grandkids."

So, my phone has been dying.

It's a case of natural causes.

"ALOHA, WICKED WAHINE!"

"Aloha, Good Day!" 

First word we learned in Hawaii was Aloha, the natives said you use Aloha in greeting and in saying goodbye.  In actuality it means Love, Peace, and Compassion, a way to live with an overflowing heart to influence others with your spirit.  In case you don't know, it's pronounced (as all Hawaiian words are) as you see it ...  a-lō-hah.

The second word we learned was lei as they hung the fragrant flowers around our necks when stepping from the plane onto the big island.  

The third word we learned on our own, well, we did with the use of the little yellow dictionary we'd purchased at the first store we shopped, was wahine.  We'd been looking for a place to develop the film from my Pentax camera.  The road sign read Wicked Wahine over the picture of the long black locks of an exoctic woman.  Out came the book.  Wa-hee-nee?  Woman.  Ah, ha, LOL, in Polynesian it meant wicked woman!
  
It was such a fun honeymoon, fruit so abundant, the smell of flowers everywhere, the vibrant colors on huge pink buildings, and the pull of the ocean.

"Let's swim, Wicked Wahine!" 

"Aloha!"