This is a second try at the macro theme since I didn’t notice that the subject was plants and flowers for Musin with Susan’s macro challenge. Hope it isn’t too late. I’ve been doing a lot wrong lately. I think too much on the agenda.
This was shot with y Canon PowerShot SX710 HS, iso 400, 10.99 mm f/4 1/400
I think the little ants on each oval around the circle make it look a bit like a clock, with them being the numbers.
Reflecting Pool
Sacred refuge and snug haven.
A safe shelter from the swarm.
Not a temple or an altar.
Comfortable, snug and warm.
Temple to deep relaxation,
Underpinning of my dreams.
A down comforter to soothe my
Rattled nerves and ripping seams.
You may guess that I’m a loner, but
You would be just halfway right.
Refuges would have no meaning without
A journey to feel life’s bite.
Under covers is a safe world,
Total living through the mind,
Cushioning the greater pleasures
Nurtured when our pathways wind
Around problems to be conquered in the outer world we roam,
Safely leading us in a circle back to the refuge that we call home.
None of these ladies would formerly have identified themselves as painterly, but when three of them bid for a group art lesson at a local charity auction and invited the rest of us to attend the experience, we all had the chance to test our painterly acumen. As you might notice below, originality was neither called for nor tolerated. The nice lady at the far left directed our efforts, step by step, and the result was what you see far below.
Can you guess which three of these women are named Judy? You’ll recognize Marilyn looking much more like herself than in the Scrub Daddy post. The woman in yellow is my sister Patti, the tall pretty lady between them is my long time friend and college little sister, Patty. Marti, another best friend from college days onwards is next to our teacher and Jackie is in the horizontal stripes that bother my astigmatism no end. I am the too-short haircut between Jackie and Marilyn (sorry, Audrey).
Ta da!!! How many things can you find that we have in common in the photo? Yes, I cheated and made my moon a blood moon and my stars bleeding stars. I plan not to change my career plans as a result of this experience, but it was fun fun fun and I thank Marilyn, Patty and Patti for inviting us all. Eight participants and only 4 names between the eight of us. I once had three Pattys visit me at the same time. I find it a great boost to my ego that I didn’t get their names confused once.
This is Marilyn, my sister’s across-the-street neighbor. We went to college together but didn’t know each other then. A while ago she started reading my blog and she says her heart was especially tugged by the Scrub Daddy Saga, which with this blog is stretching to 4 posts—I think the most I’ve devoted to any topic. To read the opening episodes, you can go HERE, (Don’t forget to read the the best part––the comments of a representative of the Scrub Daddy corporation who somehow becomes aware of my posting and enters into the rhyme fest,) then HERE, then HERE.
Marilyn arrived one day with a package that included a number of the Scrub family whom I had never met before. They came complete with the note below: “Here is what happens when Scrub Daddy and Scrub Mommy get together. Va-Va-Voom!! Scrub Mommy was there dressed all in pink as well as a new Lemon Fresh Scrub Daddy, a new rectangular Scrub Sonny and–the cutest of the lot–Scrub Baby, meant to clean computer screens. I isolated one of the baby twins who now resides on my computer lid between scrubbings, but I do take him frequently to visit as I work in the kitchen. He can’t go swimming like the rest of his family, so he remains computer-locked, but a good deal of visiting gets done telepathically as they enjoy seeing each other once again. The old Scrub Daddy relays tales of his adventures during his three month overland journey through Mexico and teaches them necessary words such as cocina, limpiar, agua and seco.
Scrubfamily portrait by jdb.
Amazing that I was just going to suggest this as a prompt to Cee and then saw in the reader that it was a WordPress weekly prompt. ESP working overtime lately.
In this first photo, my friend in the foreground of the photograph is visiting the town she left behind over fifty years ago. I love the repetition in the backs of the two women as they walk away reflected in the crossing light logo.
This elderly gentleman has been visiting the beach at the same time I do for a number of years. I once tried to involve him in a dice game, but he wasn’t much interested unless it was for money! Instead he told me about his past as an artificial inseminator, which led to a few stories of my own about my dad who was one of the first ranchers to make use of this process on his cattle ranch. I thought he had a bit of a twinkle in his eye as I expounded on the topic.
It was two years later that I met his daughter and related to her the topic of my earlier conversation with her father. She looked askance. Her father had never been an artificial inseminator! What had been his job? He was with the CIA, she explained. Now, was that a twinkle in her eye as well? Guess I’ll find out this year.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/discover-challenges/the-things-we-leave-behind/
In Wyoming, more land and sky than trees.
https://beccagivens.wordpress.com/2016/07/24/sunday-trees-245/
Disclaimer: Naughty word implied in this poem. Do not read if easily offended.
Retired
Mr. Clock, Mr. Clock,
though your advances I try to block,
my attempts you seem to mock
with your continuous tic tic toc,
echoed by my neighbor’s cock
crowing from his noisome flock.
No longer cheerleaders or jocks,
nor femmes fatale with flowing locks,
in Birkenstocks, flip flops or Crocs,
(worn in the winter complete with socks)
we huddle safe behind our locks,
afraid of terrorists with glocks
or neighbors’ children tossing rocks.
We hear your phone calls and your knocks,
we know you gather in your flocks,
your PTAs and your ad hocs,
while each of us sits in our box
as stubborn as a mule or ox,
busy in our painters’ smocks
or cooking spinach in our woks.
Our homes all sealed up like Ft. Knox,
we have no need of the world’s shocks,
its pestilence and chicken pox.
We have our pensions and our stocks,
our Lean Cuisines in our ice box.
We shun your CNN or Fox!!!
Our TV sets set to the past
neglect to show the latest blast
as all the world seems set to cast
Armageddon, coming fast.
So as you watch the latest drone
on your notebook or your phone,
as you predict and hate and moan,
please leave us the f— alone!
Prettying up Main Street in Sheridan, Wyoming, were these flower baskets stuffed with petunias and asparagus ferns. No extra charge for blue skies, wispy clouds and a touch of Main.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 