Monthly Archives: February 2018

A Sandy Congregation

I love what congregates around the sea.—not the open sea. Rather, where it meets the land. (Photos will enlarge when you click on them.)

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love sand and the things it collects: seashells, jellyfish, sand dollars, starfish, puff fish, sand pipers, sea turtles and even the people who collect at the beach.  It is like they have retreated as far as possible–the next step is either a boat or drowning!  They tend to be individuals, slightly odd–kind of like the people from the western world who congregate in third world locales like Africa.  Perhaps they are this age’s pioneers or trappers.

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Oh yes.  I do love the oceanside, the beach.  Salt. Sand.  I love what collects above the beach as well: frigate birds and pelicans, ibises, sun, moon, clouds.  Above are some of the thousands of images of the beach I’ve collected over the past ten years or so.

I would have to say that my muse is the sea–but not the open sea. Rather, where it meets the land.

 

I admit, this is a reblog of photos from three years ago. The prompt word today was congregate.

Blush! Color Your World, Feb 24, 2018

Blush

I’m unsure exactly what color “blush” is, but I’m pretty sure there is probably some variation from blusher to blusher.  Here are some of my photos that I hope qualify:

 

Color your world: Blush.

Mismatched

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Mismatched

You seem to dwell, dear, in the main
securely down in the inane.
If only you could just refrain
from loudly voicing your disdain.
Astrology you find a pain,
consider ESP insane,
while astral travel is the bane
of your existence and you’re fain
to scratch your head and shake your mane,
swearing you’ll open a vein
if I don’t try to put a rein
on my attempts to reach you where
you constantly refuse to fare.
Meditation’s out with you,
and you’ll have nothing to do
with Ouija boards or the I Ching.
You do not “Ohm” or chant or sing
to anyone or anything.
In short, you’re firmly planted here
on the earth, so dour and drear.
While my mind dwells in the stars,
yours hangs out in lowlife bars.
This love match has not scored a win.

Match.Com has erred again.
And so, my dear, ta-ta, adieu.
I guess I’m breaking up with you.
I fear that I have tried in vain
to find you on the astral plane.

The prompt today is astral.

Flawed: Flower of the Day, Feb 24, 2018

IMG_7729“Flawed” Gerbera Daisy, 2/2018  jdb photo

For Cee’s Flower of the Day prompt.

Ginger: Flower of the Day, Feb 23, 2018

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For Cee’s Flower Challenge

Market Day

 

Market Day

This day, alas, has dawned so hot
I’ve no need to be where I’m not.
I want to spend it where I can
be exposed to ice and fan.
Though I’m in need of countless things:
foodstuffs, videos and rings,
a hairbrush, pens and other stuff,
I do not need them near enough
to venture out into this heat.
I’ll sit here in the catbird seat
at least until the sun goes down,
then venture out into the town.

Hacked!

                                                          Would the real me ever publish a photo this rude????

Hacked!

They know my situation. They’re conversant with the fact
that while I was not looking, my Facebook page was hacked.
They commandeered my photos, made off with every friend,
made dumb statements in my name. The horrors never end.
Their “selfie” shots of me are rude. Wherever did they take them?
They’re all of me, but I assure you that I did not make them.
Now my time is spent explaining statements I didn’t make
to friends who may not realize this new site is a fake.
But the worst truth of the matter—the thing hardest to see
is that they like the hacked “me” more than they like me!

 

The prompt word today was conversant.

Dad’s Makeover

 

Dad’s Makeover

OMG, you guys.  Daddy slept all morning so I made a fast run to the house to find his reading glasses and pick up some clean underwear.  Hold onto your hats, because I have big news. Our old Dad has really cleaned up his act!  He got rid of all the empty paper bags and National Geographics. There is space between objects in the refrigerator. You can see the hall walls again. No countless stacks of empty jelly glasses and yogurt cups.  No drawers full of used twist ties and rubber bands streaked with carbon from newspapers thrown twenty years ago.

All of the flowerpots with dry cracked soil and the ossified skeletons of plants? Gone, along with their friends the stacks of empty pizza boxes and  six packs of beer bottles.No cupboard full of clam chowder.  No year’s supply of ketchup stockpiled in the pantry. In the bathroom drawer, just one tube of toothpaste squeezed from the end. No ranks of out-of-date prescription bottles.  No shriveled tubes of Preparation H.

Mama’s clothes are finally gone from the closet. Her dusty doilies, vanished from every surface in the house. No mismatched socks and wrenches in his bedroom drawers.

How did this come about? Impossible to say as he still hasn’t come to after his surgery, but if I were to assay the probabilities, I’d say a woman might be involved.  There is a vase of flowers in his hospital room and a container of homemade soup in the little fridge beside his bed.  His hair looks newly cut and his nostril hairs are not in evidence.  All presentable underwear in the valise  I packed for him and sis, his jockeys are in shades of maroon, navy blue and rust brown!!!  No more untidy whities.  No more undershirts with holes in them. It’s like they operated on his whole life, not just his appendix.  Removed every dusty, tattered, useless, outgrown part of him and plopped down a new father in his place.

Oops.. gotta run soon.  The nurse just said he has another visitor. Not a family member, but the one who admitted him to the hospital last night at midnight. The one who left the key to his house for me.  They say only one visitor at a time, so guess I’ll have to leave when she gets here.  Door opening. She’s coming in the door! I’ll call you from the car.

(After a ten minute lapse, the phone rings again.)

Okay. You guys? Are you all there?  Sit down, will you? All sitting down? A slight modification. Make that a he who came in the door!

The prompt word today is assay.

Can’t Resist

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The Forgottenman Challenge. Done!!

After seeing my mixed bouquet in Cee’s daily flower challenge, Forgottenman challenged me to write a poem making use of the name of every flower in the bouquet.  Okay F-man, here it is. I rise to every challenge!!! (The names of the flowers in the bouquet are in bold print.)

Zinnia was the fairest maid the town had ever grown.
She flirted with the mill boy and claimed him as her own.
She rose and fed their baby with a silver spoon
each morning as her husband lay abed ’til noon.
To wake him up, she lay their child well within his reaches.
He woke to that sweet baby’s breath-—just redolent of peaches.
Brushing off her flour-dusted lover, Zinnia sent him on his way
to grind more grain for townsfolk who had the means to pay,
for although her dusty miller was not the working kind,
true love will not buy Gerbers nor diaper a behind.

Here is the bouquet again:

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Bouquet of zinnias, roses, baby’s breath, dusty miller, Gerber daisies.  jdb photo

Another response to Cee’s daily flower prompt.