Empty Notebook

Day 17 - I had a dream last night. It involved various females. That’s all I’m saying to keep it PG around this Journal, just in case anyone ever reads it. I’ll continue to blow bubbles for the bubble nest. If nothing else, it seems to amuse the two humans endlessly.

Day 14 - Oh how I love this little green plant. I’ve turned it into quite a little bed when I sleep.  There are a couple of upper branches that work out perfectly, so that I don’t have to go too far to the surface to get air.  It’s also fun to swim through.  I’ve work out a course that keeps me fit, while I wait for my next meal or next visit from the two humans.

Although, for the life of me I don’t understand why they keep tapping on my tank. It wakes me up out of a sleep, and frankly, when I’m dreaming of blood worms, I’d rather not wake up. Those two seemed to do a lot of lounging yesterday, and from what I could see they were watching that box up to my left. It had a lot of yellow characters on it, and some “Dough” sound. But, I don’t think it was a cooking show.  Generally, when the male human is watching cooking it’s a female will really big gestures and a loud voice.

Either way, I wish they’d stop waking me up when I’m sleepy!

Day 8 - I must have been dreaming yesterday. For a few, brief moments, there were hundreds of blood worms in my tank. That’s right, HUNDREDS. But, sadly, the male captor took most of them away. The female laughed at him while he scooped them out. I also didn’t appreciate the couple of pokes he gave me to keep me away from my feast.

I did, however, get some extra water added to my tank, so I can actually swim over the plant again. Most of my bubbles were destroyed, though, so at least I have something to keep me busy for the next few days. Oh yes, one other thing. The captors have rearranged some things out in the room. One tree was replaced, and some other things put away. I wonder what that was about?

Day 4 - It’s Day 4 here in captivity, although I’m starting to realize that my so called “captors” might actually be my rescuers in a sense. Sure, I’m not in a Taiwanese rice patty, but this place is pretty good.  There’s plenty of food, and there is lots to look at from outside my holding area. So good in fact, I started making bubble nests. Granted, there aren’t any females around, but I could do with out the stress of that anyway. Frankly, Betta love is a little violent for my tastes.

My rescuers are generally only home in the evenings, except for the large one, he seems to show up around midday and usually gives me a snack. Those brownies are pretty darn good. Even better, on special occasions I’ve been served blood worms, which are making my fins and scales healthy again. And, to top it all off, I don’t think I’ve been in clearer water.

With my situation stabilizing, I’ll report more about what I can see from here as the days go by.

P.S. - I need to get a better photo taken, I look awful from that side.

Day 2 - I’ve decided to keep a journal of my activities and that of my captors.  One is a large fellow, and very pale.  The other is a thin, tall and beautiful human female, with long dark hair. So far they haven’t been mean, so I’m waiting to pass judgment on them for a few weeks.

I arrived two days ago, in a stressful transport from my previous captors, where I resided in a much smaller body of water, also known as a small plastic cup.  I’ve been biding my time for a few weeks there, plotting my escape until these two came along. The nearby tank of Zebra fish would have been perfect. I could have jumped my way through various tanks, until I reached my final destination, albeit an unpleasant one, the toilet where I planned to have my rabbit friend, James flush me to freedom.

However, on the eve of my planned escape my current captors swept me away and now keep me in a tightly secured facility. It could be worse though, this place is much, much larger than my previous home. There’s also a plant, although I cannot figure out the variety since it isn’t giving off any scent and it certainly didn’t taste good when I tried to munch it on Day 1.  Perhaps it’s best left providing me a hiding spot, when I don’t want the large fellow looking at me. It’s a little chilly for my liking, but I stay active. In a fit of rage on Day 1, I tried, in vain, to dig out of here through the rocks below. Of course when I came to my senses, I realized that I shouldn’t try that, even if I were home in a rice patty. What am I going to do, dig through the entire earth?

For now, I leave you. My plans were foiled, but this new place isn’t horrible. The captors even fed me bloodworms last night. Perhaps they were trying to make me feel more at home, or maybe (I just had a horrible thought) they’re fattening me up for dinner…

So, my girlfriend and I have a new addition to the household, Charlie the Betta Fish.  Charlie lives in a lime green plastic topped bowl, with lime green rock and a nifty little fake plant.  The good news about Charlie’s home is the lid, which will prevent him from committing suicide like my old Betta, Mayor Ed Koch did a few years ago.

Charlie’s a little weird, which is fitting. He’s everything from blue & purple to red. He dug a hole in the rocks overnight, and he squirms around quite a bit.  It’s not typical Betta behavior from my experience, but not unheard of either. He’s pretty cool about it thought, and he’s getting less shy as he acclimates to his new home. He looks out over the family room a whole lot, I guess he doesn’t care for the white trim or gray wall behind the tank too much. And, when I go up to the tank, he comes around to say hello.

I’ll put a picture on the site of Charlie and his new home soon.

My father went back to Connecticut last spring to visit my grandmother, and he brought back some photos that were buried up in the attic. Over Christmas I helped him scan the photos so that we could take a closer look at some of the B-17’s that my great uncle, George Kristoph took as a military photographer. He also took some photos with my grandfather, William Kristoph, who was a guard in England during the war.

Check them out, and click on them to visit the pictures on Picasa Web!

My grandfather.

My grandfather and his best friend, Jack Kinkaid.

My grandfather and my great uncle, George, meet up overseas.

A newspaper article about the brothers.

B-17 photos that were taken by my great uncle, George. If you zoom in on some of them, you can make out the pilot, co-pilot or rear turret gunner. I’m going to scan some of these at an even higher resolution in the spring hopefully, when my father brings up the photos.

Some photos of bomb damage in England:

Bomb damage from a B-17 bombing run