Tift Nifties

This is actually about coinage.

Tift Nifties (after Tom Swifties) was what I dubbed the practice over at Tift Merritt dot Net of converting syllables in words to include Tift's name in it, e.g., Certifticate of Merritt (I did not come up with that one, but it is extra perfect, say along with Merritt Tiftmas).

Like I said, this isn't about Tift Nifties (nor Tom Swifties), but about coinages, Tom noted freely. (Har har har, get it, "note" [vs. coin] and free vs. what you need coins for, anyway.)


Tiftadelic
Photo by permission.

If coinage was worth the paper it was printed on, then I wouldn't be slaving for Massah Duke, I'd be sitting in the counting house. But then, if a filbert blogged in the Forrest and nobody read it, would a Filbert Hockey (tm) score make a sound after digital photography eliminates the plastic film "tins" used as goals?

But I digress ("yes, you do - frequently").

I recently coined a new motto for my work group, "We put the 'we' in the Web" (tm).

I'll also flip a few mixed metaphors, "Water under the dam," and "The cat's out of the barn," being my favorites.

This naturally, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to today's coinage, "As even keeled as a prairie schooner" (tm).

Not sure what it actually means, but those (tm)'s are at least double entendred.

Eagless

Quick update. Through 129 holes over the weekend, not only did we see no eagles, we did not even see any birdies. No eagles of the flying variety, either, although there were plenty of buzzards (cricling my golf game, perhaps).

Third Eagle

You may find it beneficial to follow me around next weekend.

Unable to play golf much this winter, I've spent the past two weekends walking around without a white ball to chase through the woods.

During a hike at the Harris Lake Wake County Park the other day, we paused on a bit of high ground to look out over the lake, when a large shadow swooped up from behind. My first thought was "heron," but when I looked up I was surprised to see the broad white tailfeathers of a Bald Eagle. It was exciting, if not altogether surprising. Eagles are known to nest around nearby Jordan Lake, and since Harris Lake is used to dissipate heat from the Sherron Harris nuclear power plant, what bird wouldn't be enticed to escape this winter's cold via a trip to a relatively warmer pond?

The next weekend, I just went for a walk around my local golf course, which, being covered in snow, was not in play. I strayed from the paved cart path to test the depth of snow on the untrodden sixth tee, and looking out in the direction of nearby Sunset Lake, I discerned a large bird flying toward me. Funny, it looked like it had a white head. Sure enough, a second eagle in as many weeks. (Since I was not able to band the first eagle, there's no guaranteeing the second eagle was not really just the first, reseen, of[f] course.)

Lest you think it commonplace to see eagles about, I will explain that these were my first eagle sitings in North Carolina while on foot, ever. And I've covered plenty of miles of would-have-been eagle habitat afoot over the last 41 years here.

Knowing how things seem to happen in threes, if you would like to see an eagle, I recommend you follow me around next weekend. The weather forecast provides some optimism for the possibility of golf. Who knows, maybe somebody in my group will hole one from the fairway.

Title Revised

Dear No Reader,

I googled "The Blog Nobody Reads" and discovered the article doesn't apply - they's more than one of 'em. So I'm compelled, or perhaps obliged, to change my title yet again.

I apologize for the conceit.