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Monday, 23 October 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday was imagined by Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border (you can find her in my sidebar).  Procrastinating Donkey joined in as did I.  We could use more joiners.  If you decide to write let us know so we can come read.
Each week Diane provides us with a prompt.  This week the prompt is 'sports'.  It's not necessary to use the prompt, it's just there for inspiration.
So...'sport'....I have procrastinated ever since I found out what the topic was.  'Sport'...a bunch of sweaty people running around a field or rink after a moving object of some sort.  Hmmm....   nope.... nothin'.

It's Poetry Monday
dontcha know.
The topic is sports.
I'm feelin' low.

No word of joy
I'm able to bring
to this frustrating topic,
this 'sportie' thing.

I asked the hubs
what did HE think
when I said I think
all sports stink.

Well, said he,
"You like to knit.
Can a sport be something
where you sit?"

So I decree
and I declare
knitting IS a sport
so there.




Saturday, 21 October 2017

Busy Day

It's a busy day on our street.  Three doors down is having an open house.  Two doors  down from them a family is having a new metal roof installed.  Consequently, the street is clogged with workman's vehicles and vehicles of folks attending the open house.  The side walks are busy with gawkers watching the roof going on, dog walkers, people going to and from their cars .... makes it a little dicey getting out of ones driveway.  Nevertheless, get out we did and trucked off to the Friends of the Library annual book sale (11th annual to be exact).  Over 30,000 square feet and over 100,000 books to choose from.  What a fantastic job those volunteers did of sorting books into categories, alphabetising, labelling, pricing...so easy to find what you were looking for.  There was a snack bar, an information kiosk for the library, a sale of recyclable cloth bags.  So much going on.  The warehouse floor was a sea of customers.  No problem knowing where to go.  The cement floor was taped out with instructions on how to get out, where to pay, information centres...just fantastic.  Yes, of course I bought books.  How many?  Well, never mind that.

Thursday, 19 October 2017

Just Like The Geese

Fly Away

When the sky is lead
And the rain drives in
Form the cold north lands
The geese band together
And fly away.
Fly away
Fly away
When the cold gets too much
They fly away.
When the pain grows too much
When the day grows too long
When the light starts to fade
We fly away.
Fly away
Fly away
When it all seems too much
We fly away.
Like geese in the autumn
Fly away.
There’s a place where the sun shines
Where the sky is blue and clear
It’s our destination
When we fly away.
Fly away
Fly away
To a land of endless sunlight

Fly away

Wednesday, 18 October 2017

Using Wednesday's Words

Words for Wednesday is a weekly writing prompt designed to get our creative juices flowing.  Participants take it turn about to provide the prompts a month at a time.  This month Cindi of Letting The Words Escape (you can find her in my side bar) is providing the prompts.  As this is the spooky month of October she has been pulling her words of inspiration from books like Frankenstein and The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe....this week the words are from Stephen King's IT.  Feel free to join in...use some, all or none of the words.  Just write, write, write.  It's free, it's fun...what could go wrong?

this week the words are....clown, tunnels, children, nightmares, water, friends  and/or  visions, red, courage, asthma, recurrence, hide.

here we go:

It takes courage to face the nightmares and the visions each and every night.  Alone in the dark you find yourself in an endless tunnel.  The sound of the furnace fan is the wind blowing, the bathroom tap gurgles with its unshed water and sounds like a dying breath.  You are alone and friendless.  The only place to hide is under the blankets.  Then, you hear the footsteps and the  recurrence of the nightly terror begins.  A red glow penetrates  the darkness of your room coming closer and closer.  A crackly voice whispers in your ear, “Children should all be asleep at this time of night.”.  There is a rasping cough.
  “Mom?”
  She takes her hand off the lens of the flashlight and the room lights up “Yes dear?”
  “Is your asthma bad again?”
  “Yes, it is.  Now….stop your clowning around in here and get to sleep.  School tomorrow.”
  “Okay Mom…love you.”

  She leaves grinning and shaking her head.  Every single night, the same thing.  It never gets old for either of them.

Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Fun With Words

Sometimes a phrase we use all the time will suddenly catch my ear and leaves me wondering where it came from and why.
Knuckle Under
this is a fairly common expression
A dictionary from 1740 defines knuckle as 
knuckle or knuckle down
to stoop, bend, yield, comply with or submit to.
The allusion appears to be with the subservient gesture of stooping with one's knuckles low down or on the ground.
Somehow when I hear the expression 'knuckle under' I get a mental picture of the great apes rolling along with their knuckles on the ground.

Monday, 16 October 2017

Poetry Monday

In a small cardboard box
abandoned
at the back of a drawer
small pieces of once shiny paper,
ripped and creased,
little pieces of tin
with faded images
lie, forgotten.
No names,
no dates,
no clues.
Figures posed unnaturally,
faces grim,
having been warned not to move.
Their eyes bore into ours
daring us
to solve the mystery
of their history.

Sunday, 15 October 2017

Life Line

Life line....I have one now.  I've been feeling alone and vulnerable for quite some time now.  Yes I know, I have a husband, BUT, the man is quite deaf.  If he is tuned in to the streaming device for the TV he can't hear me, the doorbell, the phone...nothing.  If he is in the shower and has the hearing aids out he hears...nothing.  If he is in bed with the hearing aids out he hears ... nothing.  If he is changing a battery in the aids he hears...nothing.  Many a time I have needed him for something, called him, received no answer and knew...I was on my own.  I started thinking, what would happen if I fell, or had some kind of medical emergency and was unable to walk to him and get his attention?  I could lay on the floor bleeding for hours before he decided he wanted food or coffee and came looking for me to get it for him (he's nearly blind as well).  I could be dead by the time he got around to finding me.  I've been thinking about this for the past several years.  Finally, I called the General Hospital and asked them what kind of life line they recommend.  Yesterday a lovely lady named Ann came by (elderly lady, what a great marketing strategy) and within minutes had a home base installed, a wrist band on me (sort of like belling a cat lol) and a lock box on the back door.  No matter where I am in the house I can press the button on my wrist band and someone will speak to me through the home base..we tried it out and it even works in the basement.  If they can't get a response from me they will send EMS.  If I can talk to them I can ask for exactly what services I require.  The home base takes up very little room.  The wrist band is to be worn in the shower, in bed, everywhere and all the time...although I won't be wearing it when I go out.  I can even use it if I need assistane for my husband if he has a medical emergency.
The second life line I got was CAA for the car as neither of us is capable of changing tires or walking miles if we run out of gas.
Now if only that list would get shorter for the condo we are waiting for.

Saturday, 14 October 2017

Friday, 13 October 2017

Friday's Confession

Two years ago I would not have had this confession to make.  Two years ago we still had all our meals at the table with a proper place setting.  Two years ago we still had 'couth'.  I'm not sure when it happened or how it happened but we have become 'dinner in a bowl' people.  We have become 'dinner on the couch in front of the TV people'.  (Sometimes we have dinner on the porch.  Somehow this seems okay.)  We have become 'uncouth'.
Every night my dishwasher is full of bowls.  Bowls for oatmeal, bowls for salad, bowls for rice bowl dinners, bowls for stew...if it can fit in a bowl it gets fit into a bowl.  This is a bad habit.  
How about you?  Any bad habits to confess.  Any suggestions on how to get out of this bad habit?  IS it a bad habit or just a 'not so good' habit?

Thursday, 12 October 2017

Who Wrote That?

"Listen! the wind is rising,
and the air is wild with leaves.
We have had our summer evenings,
now for October eves."
....Humbert Wolfe   Peoples Landfalls Mountains  1936

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

Using Wednesday's Words

Words for Wednesday is a writing prompt designed to get our creative juices flowing.  A group of us take turns providing the prompt words/pictures/music/phrases..month by month.  This month Cindi of Letting the Words Escape is taking her turn.  Last week the words were from Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven".  This week the words come from 
Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein".  Great word choices for October.

"Feeling better now, Screech?" Grace asked.
In the deep ravine in the middle of the melancholy dark wood Screech stretched and twisted himself comfortably.
"Oh yes, thank you Grace.  Those were most violent sensations I was experiencing but, all is well now.  That potion you cooked up in your laboratory worked a charm."
"I'm so sorry you had to experience that misery my friend."  Grace was feeling guilty.
Screech laughed.  "Not to worry, all's well that ends well."
Grace laughed too.  "Glad you got it out of your system." she giggled.  "Still, while it is amusing now, it wasn't so funny when you were going through it. "  
Screech agreed.  "It was bloody murder there for a while."  His head bobbed seriously.  "I hope there are no more of those little devils running around.  At least no one else will have to suffer grief at that demons hands.  I could kiss you for that potion, Grace."
Grace grinned.  "Don't even think about it Screech."  Now...I have to get back.  Something tells me there's trouble in the wind, I feel an electricity in the air...Estelle needs me."
She turned and headed back toward her little cottage leaving Screech preening his feathers and asking the ago old question "Who?".

Tuesday, 10 October 2017

Hunting The Stink

Ever done this?   The house has been cleaned to within an inch of its life...fabric has been febreezed....anything disinfectable has been..well..you know.  What the heck is that smell?  You follow your nose.  Sometimes the smell seems to be in the living room other times the bedroom...so frustrating.  Finally you find it....it could be a tomato going bad on the kitchen counter....in my case....it was one bad potato in a whole brand new bag of potatoes that was stinking up the house.  What a relief.

Monday, 9 October 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday is the brain child of Diane (On The Alberta Montana Border).  You can find her in my side bar.  Jenny of Procrastinating Donkey (also in my side bar) joined in, as did I.  We could use more poets and readers.  Why not join us?  Its fun and it's free.  What could go wrong?
Each week Diane provides us with a prompt just in case we need a little helpful nudge.  This week the prompt is "harvest".
I didn't have a lot to say about "harvest" which is odd seeing as how my folks had a farm.


No Crop Too Small

A scattering of seeds
on frosty white;
a chickadee, startled,
takes to flight
and leaves his harvest
for the mouse
to carry
to his tiny house.
Will he bow his head and pray
on this blessed Thanksgiving Day?

Sunday, 8 October 2017

The Things You Remember

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day in Canada.  Thanksgiving in our family (and for a good many families) means turkey.  Every year as I prepare the stuffing I think of my Mom.  I can see her sitting at the kitchen table with her cup of tea close to hand and a loaf of French bread in front of her.  The bread is stale and the huge loaf cut in half.  Mom is patiently 'pulling' the bread into teeny tiny pieces and dropping them into a bowl.  All the pieces must be small and pretty much identical.  Must be!!!!!  I am conscripted to help but my pieces are never quite right.  Years later I sit at a kitchen table with my own loaf of French bread, suitably stale, cut in half and waiting for me to 'pull'.  I did this for several years until one day, I had an epiphany.  The dressing comes out all stuck together.  You can't see how big or small the pieces are.  From that moment on I sliced the bread, resliced it into fingers, cubed and dumped the cubes in the bowl.  Fifteen minutes start to finish.  No one can tell the difference.  It sure took me a long time to figure that one out.

Saturday, 7 October 2017

Saturday's Snort

Why do chicken coups only have two doors?

(With four, they'd be chicken sedans.)

Friday, 6 October 2017

In The Moonlight

In the moonlight,
the cold, pale moonlight,
not the dawn light,
the sad and lonely moonlight,
I think of you,
draw you close,
touch your faces,
hear your voices,
laugh at the old jokes,
smile at the sweet old stories,
in the moonlight,
the cold, pale moonlight.
In the moonlight
I visit the old, familiar places
gone so long
but not to me.
I visit them.
I visit you.
In the moonlight.
With the dawn
you fade away
but, you'll be back,
I'll be back,
in the moonlight.

Thursday, 5 October 2017

Pure Fantasy

He asked her if she really believed all that nonsense she was spouting...about aliens from another planet visiting, people dying and going on to another plane of existence, of maybe going down to the basement one day and stepping into another dimension never to be seen again.
She just smiled and said, "I believe anything is possible...anything at all so why not believe in aliens and other dimensions?  Why not believe that all time exists all the time and that everything that was ever here is still here and that nothing really exists at all.  Why not believe one day everything, every person, every planet, every particle of dust in the universe is going to come together in one Big Bang to form a new cosmos full of untapped potential.  After all....it happened once before....at least once."
Then she stepped off the bottom step onto the basement floor and disappeared.

Wednesday, 4 October 2017

Using Wednesday's Words

Words For Wednesday is a writing prompt designed to get our creative juices flowing.
This week the words can be found at 'Letting The Words Escape'.  You can find it in my side bar.  Why not join in...read, write, critique....we'd love to see you here.

This week the words are:
forgotten, sorrow, rustling, darkness, unbroken, window
and/or
perched, grim, beast, soul, disaster and ominous.

Cindi took her inspiration  from Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Raven'. 

here we go:

Ally frowned at Screech.  "You are looking a little grim and green around the beak my friend....sort of like you ate a bad mouse."
Screech shuffled uncomfortably on the limb he was perched on.  "I believe the beast came from a place of darkness.  It had no perceptible soul.  I heard it rustling in the leaves in the abandoned graveyard and to my everlasting sorrow, I caught and ate it.  I've had a stomach ache ever since."
"What a disaster." Ally commiserated.  "I'll ask Grace if she has a potion for stomach ache."
"Oh, yes."  Screech burped uncomfortably..an ominous rumble from his lower regions caused Ally to step back a fair distance.  "I'll just fly over and tap on her window...Oooooooh.......for a moment I'd forgotten how much it hurts to move.  Would you mind so very much, dear Ally, asking her for me?"
"I'll go now." Ally reassured Screech.  "I'm sure she'll have something on hand."
"She'd better,"  Ally thought to herself , "seeings as how she's caused this unbroken misery for our friend."
To save time Ally morphed into her second identity as a raven and flew to Grace's cottage.  As Screech watched her fly off he mumbled to himself "never more".

Monday, 2 October 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday is lots of fun.   Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border started it (you can find her in my sidebar) and she provides a weekly prompt in case we need one.  Procrastinating Donkey joined in, as did I.  We need more participants.  Give it a shot.   Poetry doesn’t need to rhyme you know.  Just express yourself.
Todays’ prompt is THANKSGIVING.

Thanksgiving in the neighbourhood
All sitting down to plates of food
And giving thanks each in their way
On this beautiful, peaceful, Thanksgiving Day.

Jill and Tommy, Mom and Dad
Holding hands and feeling glad
For all that God has given them
Their words of praise ,a joyous hymn.

House by house the heavenly crowd
Listened to praises long and loud
That rose from each and every house
Except, for Mr. Blow’s, the louse.

Surrounded by family; man, woman and child
He rose from his chair, eyes staring and wild.
“Give thanks to ME he roared.
My efforts filled this festive board.”

Humbled, all did whisper, “thanks”
As from their hosts anger they shrank.
The angels shook their golden heads.
“He gives no praise for his daily bread.”

“This food remains unblessed”, they said
“Its value is as good as dead.”
But one small child shall save the day.
She dropped her head so she could pray.

Silence descended with a bang.
Soon every head began to hang.
“Bless this food oh Father dear
And bless the love that keeps us here.”

And Mr. Blow, his eyes grown dim
As he remembered a childhood hymn
gathered up the golden child
His air now penitent and mild.

“Let all be grateful for this bounty
Let all be grateful for the love.
He stood before them proud and tall

As a little child led them all.

Sunday, 1 October 2017

Reaching A Milestone

There are many milestones in life from first words, first steps, going to school, graduation, first jobs, marriage, children, retirement, grandchildren.....lots and lots of milestones.  Today I have reached a MAJOR milestone.  I have accomplished the Biblical allotment of my days.  Anything after this is gravy.
I asked myself this morning what I have accomplished in seventy years and was forced to admit, "not much".  Oh yes, raised a child, did my part by working and paying my own way, painted a few pictures, wrote a few poems, cooked a LOT of meals...but nothing really earth shaking....nothing that really made a difference.  Of course, the next question I asked myself was, "What do you want to do with whatever time is left?"  Couldn't think of a dang thing.
I feel old.  I look old.  I can still remember that fresh child who had no fear and tons of energy.  She's still in here but she's been somewhat hampered by arthritis.  No bike riding for her anymore.  No running and jumping.  Ah...but inside....she's still a speed demon.  

Saturday, 30 September 2017

Saturday's Snort

How is imitation like a plateau?


(They are both the highest form of flattery.)

Friday, 29 September 2017

How Long Are Your Arms?

Fair warning, this is a rant.

Seriously....how long are the average woman's arms?  I am never able to buy a shirt or sweater or jacket without having to either roll up the sleeves or get them altered.  I don't know about you but I haven't noticed too too many women walking around with their hands hanging below their knees.  Okay, I buy pants off the 'petite' racks so maybe I need 'petite' sweaters, shirts and jackets.  Haven't seen any of those around.  If you are petite in one place it stands to reason you are probably petite all over right?   Manufacturers need to take a really long hard look at their market.  Okay, that's my rant for the day.

Thursday, 28 September 2017

Who Said That?

"Wrinkles should merely indicate where the smiles have been."
........................Mark Twain............................

Wednesday, 27 September 2017

Words For Wednesday

Well folks, its finally happened.  I have the words for Wednesday at my fingertips but somehow the message is just not getting to my brain.  I got nothin'.  I have an immense void where my brain used to be.  Not plausible you say?  Oh yes, plausible, possible and definite.  Rather than garble away and not make any sense I simply bow to the Granny.  I am done.  Or undone.  My elan has fled.  It is dead.

here's a ps.....
I DID come up with something after all


"A toothsome treat."  the demon hissed.
Grace smiled secure in the knowledge the diminution would start immediately both in size and capabilities.
The creatures loathsome vernacular movements were sickening to watch.
"You created pandemonium in my garden."  Grace said, "I couldn't tolerate that.  There had to be repercussions."
"So you arbitrarily took action?"  the demon temporised, his brain scrambling in all directions for a solution. Unfortunately his speech was garbled sounding more like squeaking thanks to the power of the potion he had ingested.
"It seemed plausible."  Grace smiled.  The demon raised an immense wail, surprising since he was now the size of a mouse.
With one perfunctory motion Grace dropped it into a small cage.  Handing it to Estelle she said, "Take him to where the path bifurcates at the entrance to the Dark Wood and release him.  If he chooses well he will live, if not, he'll make an excellent lunch for our friend Screech."


Phew....I did it.

Tuesday, 26 September 2017

I Wonder

Sunday we went to an open house at the Elliott Community.  We have been on a waiting list for a condominium to come available for close to four years now.  We were told at the time it would be a two to three year wait.  We are currently number 30something or other.  I wonder if we'll ever get there.  When we first went on the list there was no restriction against having pets, there is now.  Not an issue for us as we don't have pets.  There is also a restriction against smoking in the building including the individual units.  Again, not an issue for us.  But I wonder how many more restrictions will crop up over time?  It was a steamy day on Sunday with temps around 32F feeling more like 40 with the humidity.  I kind of thought not many would show up because of the heat (old folks and all you know) so we went because we didn't want staff to go to all the trouble of setting up the goodies and the pamphlets and having tour guides on hand for nothing.  The place was jammed with oldies fanning themselves with the pamphlets.  They were telling the newbies it would be at least a six year wait for a unit.  I wonder how many of those decrepit old souls will still be alive in six years but it didn't seem to deter them one bit.
I gazed around the room while waiting.  Everyone dressed to the nines and rigged out with their pearl necklaces and ties.  We were the only ones in bluejeans and T shirts.  I wonder how we will fit in if we ever to get a unit.  

Monday, 25 September 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday was started by Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border (you can find her in my sidebar).  Diane thought Mondays could use a little tweaking.  Each week she provides a prompt.  You don't need to use it but its there, just in case don't you know.  Procrastinating Donkey (also in my side bar) participates as do I.  There is always room for more.  Why not join in...write, read, critique...it's all good.

This weeks prompt is..well..it's...underwear.


The topic today
is underwear.
I can't think of anything
I'm willing to share
about either outer
or under
wear
except that I wouldn't like
to be going bare.
I don't really care
what you wear
I just don't want to see
your underwear.
So pull your pants up
little man.

Sunday, 24 September 2017

Canada Welcomes the Invictus Games

We watched the opening ceremonies last night....watched the parade of proud and wounded warriors as they marched into the stadium, heads held high, flags waving.   We listened to Prince Harry as he welcomed them.   We listened to these men and women as they talked about what this event meant to them.  It didn't matter whether they were men, women,  LGBTQ or what is euphemistically referred to as 'straight', Canadian, British, Australian, from Denmark, Afghanistan.  It didn't matter if they were Jewish or Christian, Muslim or any other religion.  They were/are our heroes.
If you didn't know, the name of the games is taken from a poem written by William Ernest Henley
entitled
Invctus

Out of the night that covers me, 
      Black as the pit from pole to pole, 
I thank whatever gods may be 
      For my unconquerable soul. 

In the fell clutch of circumstance 
      I have not winced nor cried aloud. 
Under the bludgeonings of chance 
      My head is bloody, but unbowed. 

Beyond this place of wrath and tears 
      Looms but the Horror of the shade, 
And yet the menace of the years 
      Finds and shall find me unafraid. 

It matters not how strait the gate, 
      How charged with punishments the scroll, 
I am the master of my fate, 
      I am the captain of my soul. 



Mumblings

I have been known to be confused by simple things.  Case in point.  Our little twice weekly free newspaper prints the weeks deaths on the "Life" page.  On the Life page you find births, birthdays, marriages, anniversaries , graduations and death.  When I questioned this I was told that death is a part of life.  Well...vegetables, car accidents, weather and war are also part of life but you don't find them on the "Life" page.  The common cold, store closings and movies are part of life as well but again..... Why not just call the paper "Life" and sprinkle little bits and pieces of things all through the paper.  Death is death.  It always used to be found under Deaths or Obituaries.  When did Death become Life?  See what I mean.  I'm easily confused.  

Saturday, 23 September 2017

Saturday's Snort

What did the traffic light say to the car?

(don't look, I'm going to change)

Friday, 22 September 2017

Confession Time

I've been married for forty three years and I'm here to say, I'm TIRED of it.  Oh, not the marriage part.  I'm tired of 43 years of meal planning and preparation.  I still like to eat though so what's a gal to do?
I admit we eat out once in  a while, like maybe three times a week, at least.  So why is my grocery bill so high?  I don't get it.
I still wake up in the night and find myself 'stewing' over what to prepare for lunch and supper the next day.  I'm losing precious sleep over this.  I'm in a 'jam' or a 'pickle' you might say.  Is it just me or is 43 years long enough to have to think about what to cook?

Thursday, 21 September 2017

Who Said That?

Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.
..........................unknown.............................
Don't ruin today by worrying about tomorrow.  You only get one 'today'.
..........................my mom..............................

Wednesday, 20 September 2017

Using Wednesday`s Words

Words for Wednesday is a weekly writing prompt designed to get our creative juices flowing.  The prompt can be words, phrases, pictures, music....and what we take from it is up to us.  You can use the prompt or free style, write on any day of the week.  There are no rules and that is the very best part.
This month Granny Annie from Fools Rush In (you can find her in my side bar) is providing the prompts.
This week the words are:
edacious, crucible, gauche, melee, inhere, fester
and/or
bona fides, schaden freude, ehthonic, regimen, manumit and splenetic
If you are thinking of joining in and the words are giving you chills...remember it is not necessary to use the actual words and the words are not always this difficult.

Here goes:

As Ally described to Grace the mess that was her garden a few short days ago  Grace closed her eyes and was able to see in visions what had wreaked such havoc.
"It was a splenetic, ehthonic demon.  Given their inherent edacious eating habits it's a wonder anything was left at all in my lovely garden of herbs, cures and potion material.
We can't let this evil fester above ground." she said firmly.  "With a strict regimen of spells and a regular cleansing of garden, yard and house we should experience manumit from this demon.  It will give me schaden freude to cook its evil goose."
"We'll step into this evil melee Estelle but take care not to be gauche about this demons capabilities.  Fire up the crucible dear.  I'll go get grannies grimoire.  This emergency takes precedence over anything else we may have on our plates."
Estelle laughed with pure joy.  "My first look at a bona fide witches' grimoire.  I'm so excited."



Tuesday, 19 September 2017

Fun With Words

Jerry Rigged...an amalgam of jury rigged and jerry built.  Constructed in a crude or improvised manner.  First noted in use in 1959.   ie...He jerry rigged the motor so we could get back to shore.  

Hosed......in trouble, broken, intoxicated and my favourite...taken advantage of.


You just gotta love Davey and Goliath.

Monday, 18 September 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday comes to us via Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border (you can find her in my sidebar).  Diane realised Mondays needed a little jazzing up..hence, Poetry Monday.  Procrastinating Donkey agreed as did I.  We can use some more participants.  Why not join in?  Diane provides a prompt but it’s just there in case you haven’t had a visit from your muse.  This week the prompt is ‘working’. 



“How nice for you,”
my daughter said,
“to be retired
and lay abed
while all around you
folks are working.
Let it be said,
duty, you’re shirking.”
I’d vacuumed and dusted
shopped and cooked.
Hats the hubs lost
I’d found and hooked. 
Baby sat the grands
and found myself
with no free time on my hands
to do book work or learn a new language.
Even my blog friends
for lack of attention, languished.
“My dear, I worked
for 30 years
at jobs just tolerated,
boring and drear.
Now I’m entitled
to sit and rest.
That is, after your dads shirt
I’ve steamed and pressed.
You think my duty
I have shirked?
Frankly, I don’t know how

I ever found time to work.”

Sunday, 17 September 2017

Gone

We had coffee at Williams this morning.

I saw a man
while out today
who looked like one
who went away.
So far away
So far away
I thought of that dear man today.
He's gone you know,
he won't be back
and in my life
I feel the lack.

In memory of a good friend and neighbour, Fraser Thatcher.  Well and truly missed.

Saturday, 16 September 2017

Friday, 15 September 2017

Confession Time

The world has a perception of us.  We are assigned a name at birth and we learn early what it is we are supposed to be.  And so, we develop; male, female, daughter, son, parent, spouse, friend, neighbour, co-worker, employee and on and on and on we go.
A few of us make an attempt to be who we really  are but most of us, I think, keep it to ourselves or share it with a select few we feel we can trust with the truth.  Perhaps we are not meant to share the truth.
I am not what is visible to the human eye.  I am two...the public me made of flesh and bone and the real me, older than the universe and younger than tomorrow.  I am made of moonbeams and starlight, inhabiting this flesh and blood shell just long enough to learn my lessons and move on to the next stage...the next level of the game.  I believe we all fall into that category.  I am a dreamer, a poet, a hermit, I am selfish and self centred.  I long to touch the icy froth of the clouds and to tread in the dust of the red planet.  For now I live in this body and I have trained it to do what is expected.
Who are you when you are not being who you are expected to be?

Thursday, 14 September 2017

Who Said It?

My ideal housework is to sweep a room with a glance.
..............................unknown.............................but I thoroughly agree

Wednesday, 13 September 2017

Using Wednesday's Words

Words for Wednesday is a weekly writing prompt designed to get our creative juices flowing.  This week Granny Annie of 'Fools Rush In' (you can find her in my side bar) is providing the words.  
This is a fun activity...no rules...you can use some or all or none of the words, you can write on Wednesday or any other day, skip a week....whatever you like.  Why not join in?
This weeks words are:
onerous, meme, steadfast, yawp, copacetic, savant
and/or
akimbo, wreak, haphazard, advise, tare and vindicate.
Truly a great selection.

here goes:

Arms akimbo Ally stood and surveyed the wreckage that was once a pristine garden.
The rows, now in a haphazard straggling line and plagued by tares, were a sad sight.
Who or what could wreak such havoc in one short week she wondered.
"I would be vindicated if I were to string the culprit up.  They are well advised to steer clear now that I've discovered this mess."
Faced with the onerous task of clearing up   Ally let out a loud yawp as she stepped on a prickly thistle.  "You would need to be a plant savant in order to sort all these seedlings back into their correct rows." she snarled.
Still, after half a day of steadfast work the garden once again looked copacetic and she was satisfied at last.
Thank goodness.   Grace and her cousin Estelle would be home soon.

Tuesday, 12 September 2017

It's Official

The signal tree (across the road and two down) on our street is now alight with the beginnings of autumn colour.   Can the others be far behind.  I have seen trees 'turning' on other streets but the 'signal tree' on our street has been a little later in getting started.  The calendar says it's still summer but the trees know best.

Fun With Words

You know I'm always looking out for weird sayings or words.

attic salt........NOT something you put down for dust.  No, No....  attic salt is a refined, incisive wit.  What?

barn burner.....NOT a fire bug.  A barn burner is an exciting or dramatic event.   I thought a burning barn WAS an exciting dramatic event.

bobsy-die   A great deal of fuss or trouble.
Where DO people come up with these?

and your long and useless word for the day?
ampihibology....a phrase or sentence that is grammatically ambiguous
ie...She sees more of her children than her husband.


Monday, 11 September 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday is brought to us by Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border (you can find her in my sidebar)  Diane thought Monday could use a little zing.  Each week she offers us a theme.  You can use it or not.  It's just there to help you get started if you need a little assistance.  Why not join in and write, read, critique.... we love company.

This weeks theme is NATURE


A thin cold light,
a ragged sky,
with geese and raptors
flying high. 
Trees resplendent in autumn dress
make fireworks in the sky
as Mother Nature celebrates
another season gone by.
The seasons come
the seasons go
and soon the cold and wild winds blow
and bring us
darkness, ice and snow
as bundled up
to work we'll go
but always in our hearts will glow
the promise that is spring.