Frosty the Snowman promised he would be back again one day, and here he is! He’s returned from his bitter fate at the receiving end of a firing squad and was reformed to enjoy another wintry day in the Southern portion of New Jersey just East of the metropolis that was Philadelphia.
This is another one of John B Capewell’s glass negatives from about 100 years ago. Pictured is John’s sons along with a mysterious ghost boy petting a dog.
NEXT WEEK: Mystery of The Ghost Boy Solved!
The Capewell Glass Negative Collection
Week 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
The ghost boy was much like the snowman…no one thaw him!
Icy what you did there.
Thanks for stopping by, there’s snowman I’d rather trade puns with.
Not to “flake” out on you, I’d have a snowball’s chance to try to best you in a punning competition! Your 24 carrot snowman puns, coal lest from your fertile mind, would just cause me to slush my mouth. Then, I would end up graupelling before you! Then, the icing on the cake would be me, scarfing up the crumbs you’d left! Consider the competition frozen out! I tip my hat to you!
(A clean sweep to those who slip and go broom in front of their snowmen!)
Graupelling before me? What an ice thought!
While I appreciate your kind words, it doesn’t come easy, I really have to put some thawed into it. There will be no talk of you scarfing up my crumbs, I’ll be happy to spring for lunch using my slush fund.
Hail, hail, hail, the Queen of the Pun! We have a winn(t)er!
‘sno easy thing you did there! I would heap more praise upon you, but it would just sound like, “and so on and snowfort.”
However, it is praise you may take to the bank!
You sleigh me!
Are we still on for lunch? Being that I’m from New England, I volunteer to go out for the sandwiches since I don’t mind the subs-hero temperatures. Who says shovelry is dead?
Lunch? I was thinking Eskimo Pies! I glue little sprinkles to ’em!
You’ve picked up a whale of a lead on me. No use blubbering about it. I still need to seal the deal! As I used to tell my next door neighbor, “the pen, Gwen is mightier than the sword!” Oh, well, go with the floe! (I knew it! )
“I still need to seal the deal!”
Yukon count on me, snowman’s an island!
Fur be it from me to contradict a lady! You are the lead dog of my heart! (Or is that too much “mush”?)
Collar me flattered, I find you positively fetching. Schnauzer chance!
Fetching? Really? I thought I might be a little too Husky.
Snow way in hell you’re Husky, be Sirius! But for the sake of argument, send me another photo – I’ll check it out on my iPawd.
It’s like my old friend Russ used to tell me: “When your back is against the wall, Russ will be there to help you out!” It’s sled pipe cinch! His sister used to take surveys of the ursine population. She used to poll her bears all the time!
I’m hardly a koala-fied genuis, but since you changed the subject, I’m guessing that means no photo. Honey, you’re imPAWsible!
Walrus and polar bear are “changing the subject”? You don’t see the arc from one to another? Or is this just an arc “tic” with you?
Yes, it’s an arc “tic”, it’s some kind of a panda-emic around these parts.
Yes. I can see how it would be embarrassing to have a walrus over your head. Don’t eat yellow snow!
We got a few inches of snow last night. When I looked out my window this morning, I thought I saw an Eskimo eating yellow snow, turns out it was an optical Aleutian.
What’s “an optical Aleutian”? Maybe Mom knows…I’ll ask her!
Forgot to tell you about the nightmare I had last night – I was stuck in Panama during a blizzard. I was dreaming of a white isthmus!
A common dream. There is no “L” in isthmus.
But if you do go to Panama again, can Al come?
I don’t think I’ll ever go back to Panama – I’m more interested in Mexico, Yucatan there.
My sister Esther is in Mexico. I think I’ll go see Esther. She goes by her middle name, you know. Her first name is really “Polly”. She married a redneck from Georgia. (I think she wanted him!)
Perhaps we could go together – the beaches, margaritas, chimichangas, churches. I love to travel, I’m a roamin’ Catholic.
Mexico sounds lovely! Reminds me of that old rock and roll oldie: “Tijuana Dance?”
Great! I’ll bring the Pepto-Bismol in queso emergency and a pair of flats if we’re going to be dancing.
Maybe we could hunt for buried Mayan treasure? Dos Equis marks the spot!
Not exactly the booty I had in mind, but the beer sounds good!
What’s yours is yours and what’s Mayan is Mayan.
Despite the bad attitude, I still think you’re Juan in a million!
Well, if you’re going to Hector me like that… (Glad you’re not badgering. I don’t need any stinkin’ badgering! )
Not sure why, but I want to break into a chorus of “Every little breeze seems to whisper Ruiz…”
If you’re taking requests, I’d love to hear your rendition of “Waltzing My-Tilde”.
32 comments and most of them not even obliquely about the subject of the post!
“Waltzing My-Tildeâ€? I’m more partial to the one about feathers on a marsupial:
“Timey Kangaroo Down”.
I remember that song! If you can’t find anyone to sing it with you, you’ll just have to duet yourself.
Feel free to share your thoughts on the photo – subject matter, depth of field, composition. Speaking of composition, I wrote a song about tiny, burrowing animals – I felt it was time to gopher baroque.
“gopher baroque”? Women! You give them an inch and they take a mole!
If you give some men an inch, they think they’re a ruler.
How many ladies equals 5,280 feet? One. (Because a miss is as good as a mile!)
Being able to fit size 14 shoes is quite a feet!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=prclW7d_PlU
🙂
I could, and I’ll even bring my belt sander. What do you say?
What if you don’t have a belt that needs sanding?
No belt??? How do you keep your pants on? Wait a minute, what am I saying? Who cares!!!
Or perhaps you’ve traded your khakis for Sansabelt to avoid doing the airport macarena?
I could, and I’ll even bring my belt sander. What do you say?
No thank you.
I wouldn’t want to be known as Sandee.
I didn’t say I didn’t have a belt, I just don’t have any that need sanding!
Macarena? Nah. I do the limbo under the security lines!
JT – Why not? You could change your last name to Beaches!
Proof – I much prefer to tango.
Did you know the limbo was invented by Jack Benny at a pay toilet?
Tango? Did you hear about the little moron who went to Cape Canaveral to see the Tango?
He’d be quasar not to!
Did he treat himself to a nice launch afterwards?
Lunch? No. He went to new York to see the Rockettes!
I hope he’s not disappointed that they’re aren’t a lot of Jewish girls dancing at Radio City Music Hall, but it doesn’t take a rocket zionist to figure that one out.