The Docent of the Midnight Gallery

 

 

A little humor to dispel the effect of the paintings presented above: Mealancholy: The remembrance of the day’s repast.(Those meals taken before your diet began.) 

That silly definition was prompted by the fact that I noticed I’d misspelled the first prompt below while establishing the link. Here is the real word plus its companions:

The actual prompt words today are melancholy, Kafkaesque, gallery, cosset and black.

The Docent of the Midnight Gallery

Stark and grim and melancholy—harsh and Kafkaesque,
she ruled the midnight gallery from behind her desk.
Far from being cosseted, viewers were oft upbraided.
She moaned and screeched at visitors as though infuriated.
Skeletal and  shrouded, her visage veiled in black,
she insured no visitor ever ventured back!

Bridge Game

Bridge Game

Free from any adversary, safe from all deceptions,
the captain ruled his ship without yielding to exceptions.
So the cruise proceeded with ease from day to night,
and if any denizen was made to feel contrite,
it was not the captain who was made to feel the shame,
for when upon the water, he was spared from any blame
and so felt no contrition for all that he declared,
no matter how incongruous or how reason-impaired.
He was not held accountable for any misjudged thing,
for within his dominion, he was undisputed king.

 

Prompt words today are adversary, exception, cruise, contrite and safe. Image by Daniele D. Andreti on Unsplash

Win Some, Lose Some

 

 

It is such a wonderful synchronicity that Santiago (Yolanda’s grandchild and Juan Pablo and Emilia’s baby) would be born twenty years to the day since Bob’s death. If living so closely connected to my pets and nature for the past two years since the Coronavirus sent us all home to play has taught me anything, it is to have an intense appreciation for being a part of it all as well as an awareness that nature keeps recycling us along with the rest of its creation.

In addition to photos of Santiago, I thought I’d share with you the little memorial to Bob I have installed for the day–the 20th anniversary of his death–as well as this snuggie that hopefully Santiago will fit into by the time the weather gets cold, holding the Teddy bear I couldn’t resist buying for him in the U.S. Yes, I know I just published a photo of the little jumpsuit, but the Teddy bear just looked so cute on its lap that I had to show it again.

A Textural Appreciation

I almost threw away the center photo, considering it a mistake, but then I realized it was a good representation of contrast of textures. The zipper on the cobblestones was a lucky find on my way home from a beach walk. Looks like someone just finished zipping up a crack between the stones. The Lirio photo was taken on that same walk.  Then I came home to relax in the hammock and accidentally took the center one. Oh the lucky texture of our lives. I am so grateful for it. 

Hitching a ride on Carol Cormier’s Tuesdays of Texture.

May-December Marriage

 

May-December Marriage

Your insistence that I swallow three times between each bite
is just one small example of directives that incite.
All your protective rules that others find adorable,
on the receiving side of them quickly turns deplorable.

Whatever you may label them by your own nomenclature,
your “loving” rules are symptoms of extreme controlling nature.

So I’m galvanized to action. Since I’m tired of your caring,
I’m making a decision that’s both personal and daring.

I’m going out without you for a little drive alone
and I’m not taking my pager and I’m not taking my phone.
I might drive without a seatbelt and who knows what else I’ll do.
If I see some flowers by the road, I’ll stop and pick a few

without worrying about the fact a passerby might see
and park his car behind me and decide to kidnap me.
I will talk to every stranger and eat in greasy spoons,
drive out to the ocean and walk barefoot in the dunes

forgetting the sharp objects that might lurk beneath the sand,
neglecting to wear sunscreen and if I get deeply tanned,
I won’t worry about wrinkles or cancer or a burn.
All your careful rules for once I’m going to spurn.

I’m going to eat sugar and perhaps get round and fat,
enjoying all the broken rules involved in doing that!
If you treat me like a kid, then guess I’ll be a teen
and when you tell me what to do, I’ll stage a little scene.

I’ll get home when I want to and go out with whom I wish.
I’ll dine alone on Szechwan food and order every dish.
When you ask when I’ll get home, I’ll shrug and say “Whenever!”
And if you do not change your ways, the answer will be “Never!”

 

Prompts for the day are swallow, between, symptomatic, galvanize and adorable.