THE FOOTNOTES

The guy with the bulging midriff, appearing to be toothless, is actually Noonski shown here prior to his going on duty as gallery sitter at the Juried Art Show in Tolland. Noonski's duty consists principally, of preventing art lovers from painting mustaches on portraits. Noonski, so far, has never failed in this assignment.

The old Tolland Town Hall, where many a nasty political battle was fought between factions of the Democratic Party in the mid-1960's, is now the Art Center of Tolland. Recently, the Arts of Tolland held its 5th Annual Juried Art Show. More than 80 entries are displayed on the walls, and many other would-be entries never got to be accepted into the judging. In a preliminary viewing the judge simply rejects numerous works, so getting your work displayed is a sort of accomplishment. The show has gained increasing recognition, and many aspiring artists from out of state submits entries. There is a Best-In-Show award followed by a first, second, and third prize, and honorable mentions.
In any event, the paintings are on display for two weeks following the awward ceremony, and somebody has to gallery sit each day. That's where the old guy in the picture,above,comes in. When they run out of sitters, they call in old Noonski to help out.

Here are Moe and Noonski, surrogate gramdparents, with a pooch who would rather be doing something else--like eating biscuits.

For the last month, or so, I have been sort of grandpa for the little pooch seen here. Her owners are at work every day, so Noonski, being otherwise idle, goes over to take the pup out to dispose of matters of concern. The dog is kept in a cage while not under supervision in the house. They tell me the crate, as it is known, is very comfortable for dogs, and it gives them security. Anyway, as I enter the house, the dog can't see me, but knows I am coming because I begin scraping my feet while coming up the driveway. When I enter, "Casey, are you looking for me by any chance?" This is repeated until I reach the room she is in.
She goes nuts.
. By the time she sees me, she is leaping straight up and down and barking, all the time bumping up against the top of the cage. Nobody is ever that glad to see me. I struggle to let her out and the excitement mounts. She comes bounding out, expressing her feelings all the time. After jumping all over me we go outside. She knows she will get biscuits when we come back into the house, so she is eager to take care of affairs, run around a little, and head back inside. Upon entering, she stops first at the kitchen table. gets her paws on the top stands on her back legs,and looks for whatever. She then runs to the cabinet when the biscuits are stored and waits for me. I give her one and show her three or four more. "You know how to get these?" She runs back in the cage and gets the other biscuits while I lock her in. Then I am out the door, and if she is crying for me, I don't hear her.

These were some of the soccer stars on my Guatemalan team. After the game, these siblings had to return to their little shop (seen here) to sell the textiles their Mom makes at home. Their Mom speaks a Mayan language (not Spanish), so the kids are charged with opening up the shop/kiosk and working all day. Mom stays at home to weave. Can you imagine trusting an 11-year-old run your business while you stayed at home? We can't even get teenagers in the U.S. to take out the garbage!

After I spent all my money buying souvenirs from the little girls on the street, I suddenly had an idea: I counted heads and realized that I was being badgered by enough children to field a soccer team. I proposed that they take all those baskets off their heads and start playing soccer instead. They were only 7 or 8-years-old...they should have *some* fun! So, I bought a soccer ball and divided up the girls into 2 teams. These girls were wearing skirts, traditional "huipiles" and flimsy sandals -- you should have seen them kick the crap out of that ball! They were better than most of the girls I coach here in Atlanta. One of them got a bloody nose and just kept playing. She never cried. She never complained. They were such industrious, hard-working little girls. They live hard and play soccer hard. They had so much fun they made me come back the next morning for another game. It was nice to see them acting like children.

Joey has been with me for a year now. It's amazing to see how happy and comfortable he has become in his new home. This is one of his favorite relaxation techniques -- a good roll in the grass after swimming in a local pond. Needless to say, he is a big, stinky boy! But, he's the best behaved creature I've ever met. Everyone calls him "Gentleman Joe." His gentle nature and rugged masculinity have made him a favorite with all the bitches in the neighborhood. They can't keep their paws off him!

We just finished our second writing class at the Senior Center. Moe found out she has ability, and Noonski found out he has to re-read and edit what he writes. Our interest in the subject is renewed. We enjoyed the class

Our Mother's Day Bocci tournament was hotly contested, as Moe is tough to beat and not quick to give up. Moe was edged out, but she still had a nice Mother's Day. In addition to the bocci players, Max and Hana were here for the pizza party, but had to get back to the university and couldn't stay for the game. Here are the contestants" Back row" Tom, Gary and Mr. Wonderful, himself.
Front row: Peggy, Moe, Mara and Bob.

Bob and Gary planted the American Beauty Rose bush. Bob noted that it wss an American Beauty for an American Beauty.

No, what you see is a bunch of bocci balls getting a bath. They have languished in the cellar for a number of years, and probably would be unfit to touch with human hands unless thoroughly laundered. Moe expects to defend her bocci crown on Mother's Day which is tomorrow. She usually wins. Our neighbor cut our lawn today so that contestants will play on a well-maniured surface.

We said goodbye to an old friend this morning. We pulled the plug on the Coldspot Refrigerator we bought from Sears in 1950. We bought before we got married, and I began using it when I lived in Prospect. It went with us to Union City, New Britain, and now Tolland. It has been in sort of a retirement mode for a number of years in the cellar, serving mostly to store beer left here by visitors. It never failed in almost 50 years, and would still be going except for skyrocketing electric rates.
If it had been a faithful horse, we would have shot it. If it had been a ship which was home for a long time, be would have decomissioned it with thanks, and maybe tears. The old Coldspot preceded us to a final destination. It earned its rest.