Monthly Archives: June 2018

If You Break My Piñata

If You Break My Piñata

Bug wumples and persnickadoodles.
Gyre-whipped and Polka-dotted.
When I jiggled the piñata of my center-brain,
that’s what fell out.
There’s a whole world in there that’s as open as free love, and
no whippersnapper’s gonna convince me of the opposite.

Why plod when you can boogiesnatch?
Why mince when you can frollope?
Some bug-eyes sit on the fence and just watch the world go by,
but I say you gotta join in the parade.
Shake your wigglewaggle and gyrate your genombres.
They like it that way. They been boxed up too long.

You got a bundersnatch cowering in your credenza.
Open the door and let it boogie out.
It will educate you about the flibberdaddles and teach you the fandango.
Your hips will not know what to do with all they will teach them.
Your toes will flippietoe and your fingers will twiddle.
Your eyeballs will roll in their sockets and your teeth will chatterbox.

Knock-kneed and pigeon-toed, you’ll mince and you’ll canter.
Things will fall from your memory like wrapped candies from a piñata.
You will find toys and prizes and weird hats to change your future.
You will find wind-up creatures that you can wind into life
so they become realer than reality:
blop doodles and freinoys that will perch on your shoulder and execute the tango.

Curlicues to burrow into your ears and open you up to a new kind of music
where the notes are laughter and the rests are heaven.
If you don’t want any of this, then don’t swing your stick at my piñata,
‘cuz if you do and if you are successful,
it will be nothing short of strandacious.
The weak of heart need not play.

This is the dVerse Poets prompt: Say you were going to write a personal ad and didn’t want to waste your or anyone else’s time with a clichéd list of “best qualities”, acronyms on status, race, and sex, or interests such as “love taking long walks on the beach.” (Who doesn’t?) You can write your ad looking for a potential life partner or, visualize your fallen apart soul that has crumbled along life’s rugged path and you are trying to gather all the pieces to become whole once more. Honesty behooves you and your ‘missing part’ as it is the only way to attract that which you seek. Write a poem that only your intended audience will get. Show them who you are, not who you want the world to see. 

My Excuse and I’m Sticking to It!!!

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I had a marathon cooking day yesterday.  I’d been shopping, and bought a kilo of hamburger, four Italian sausages and two huge chicken breasts. In addition, I had 1/2 a roasted chicken I’d bought the day before along with vegetables that needed to be used, a bag of pearl barley and a variety of condiments.  If I’m going to mess up the kitchen, I’d just as soon cook as much as possible and freeze it, so in about 4 hours, I made a Chinese sweet and sour chicken/peanut casserole, the beef and sausage tomato sauce for a lasagna to be made later, stuffed green peppers, a big pot of cooked barley and a heavenly chicken salad.  Most of these I froze. The unfrozen stuffed pepper I intend to have for dinner tonight, but there was a little bowl of chicken salad—just enough to make into a sandwich, and although I’m trying to cut down on Diet Coke, a large open liter bottle that would just go flat if I didn’t drink it soon.

It wasn’t until I’d eaten two bites  of the sandwich and was about to have my first drink of Coke that I remembered a happening from the day before. Yolanda was mopping the floor in another part of the house and I was sorting out kitchen drawers yet another time, trying to put the things I used most in the top drawer, removing to the outside bodega some seldom-used implements, and consigning the rest to a lower drawer.  When I got to the plastic bag of  saved wine corks, bottle tops and the rubber plugs to reseal wine bottles, I picked out a little flapped pourer to put in the top of a wine bottle, wondering if I’d ever use it. Then I noticed the fixture at the bottom that indicated it was meant to be screwed into something and suddenly remembered that it was actually the top to a long aluminum finger filled with liquid that was meant to be kept in the freezer, then when needed, to be screwed into the capped pourer part and put in an opened bottle of white wine to keep it cold between pourings!  It had been a gift from a friend and I kept the bottom part in the door compartment of my fridge freezer, but unscrewed the top and put it in the drawer because it didn’t fit in the compartment.

Then I suddenly remembered that three days before, I’d put just the metal part into a 2 liter bottle of Diet Coke that I was taking to a pot luck dinner!  And remembered I’d thrown that empty bottle away when I got home!  And the trash can was empty!  I called out to Yolanda and asked if the garbage truck had come yet.  She said no and as we started to rush out to see if the vital element of my wine cooler was in the trash bag she put on the curb, it suddenly occurred to me that surely I would have noticed the long metal rod in the empty bottle.  I then remembered pouring the remains of a 1/2 empty bottle into another bottle, opened the fridge and found a full bottle of Diet Coke.  I shook it and heard a clunk!!!  When I poured the bottle out into a pitcher, I could see the comforting flash of aluminum and recovered what I had thought was lost!  RELIEF.  I funneled the Diet Coke back into the bottle, cleaned the aluminum shaft and restored it to it’s compartment in the freezer. All was right with the world.

So it was that when I made my sandwich today and spied the opened Diet Coke in the door of the fridge, that I decided I’d better drink it before it went flat.  And so it was that I filled a glass, added ice, grabbed my sandwich and made off to my desk and computer.  Bite of sandwich.  Check a few blogs.  Another bite of sandwich.  Long pull on that glass of Diet Coke. Surprise!!!  Only then did I remember that before I left for the potluck, I had laced the bottle of Diet Coke with anejo rum!! Easier than taking two bottles and mixing them there.

And that is how I came, at 1 p.m. on June 5, to be an early drinker. Tasted pretty good with the chicken salad.  I wonder how it will taste with one of the chocolate chip cookie brownies I made last night?

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All Bee Hum And Bee Bums In The Raspberries

Hard to exaggerate the importance of bees as pollinators. No pollen, no food. Even cattle, chickens and other providers of our daily meat depend on plants for food!

Tish Farrell's avatarTish Farrell

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I’ve written quite a lot about bees on this blog, and in particular the threat of neonicotinoid pesticides to which, researchers suggest, bees become addicted (see Bee-ing Bee-Minded), so I am hugely pleased to find so many bees feeding on my untainted raspberry flowers. Nothing like the sound of happy, busy bees and the sight of all those raspberries in the making.  Thank you bees.

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copyright 2018 Tish Farrell

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Coming Around: Arch, Dome or Half Circle

 

 

I really got carried away with this one.  Click on any photo to enlarge all.

For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge, Arch, Dome or Half Circle. 

Shifting Ground. Cee’s B&W Challenge

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For Cee’s Black and White Challenge: Ground.

Fallen Heliconia: Flower of the Day, June 5, 2018

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For Cee’s Flower of the Day.

Planning Meeting at the Senior Citizens Center

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Concerted: contrived or arranged by agreement; planned or devised together. A concerted effort: done or performed together or in cooperation.

Planning Meeting at the Senior Citizens Center

Has anyone else noticed that it is much harder to make a concerted effort after the age of 65?  Plans somehow get skewed, no matter how much harder we try. One person forgets the meeting. Another is ill or merely having an “off day” and can’t get out of the house.  Yet another shows up but has forgotten to do the tasks they have agreed to do. Once at the meeting, one or two people can’t hear. Another is dealing with a phone call that has just come in on her cell phone.  Two others ignore their calls but either can’t figure out how to turn off their phones or actually don’t hear the drone. 

The leader of the meeting keeps forgetting the last word of her sentences,  but luckily her friends are accustomed to this and they take turns filling them in for her. When she switches to a power point demonstration, the pictures seem to have turned themselves upside down and the man switching to each new photo has problems coordinating them with the vocal cues.

Several who can’t see move forward to a seat closer to the screen. A man in the front row falls asleep and everyone is distracted watching him as his head bends lower and lower. His next door neighbor wonders at what point she should put an arm out to catch him lest he pitch forward onto the floor. 

The meeting seems to go on for longer than usual and at five minute intervals, women work their ways from wherever they are situated in the rows of seats, past the stiff legs of those they must pass on their way to the aisle, trying not to stumble over feet whose owners seem unable to shift them far enough out of the way. Their panicked eyes and the speed with which they move reveal that they have waited a bit too long to begin their journey.  This serves as a lesson to several other women who rise and work their way out behind them.  As each in the group returns, at least one other audience member stands to work her way out in the same direction.  Occasionally, a man just leaves for a short stroll out into the garden. Everyone finds this suspicious.

Neighbors ask neighbors to repeat what was just said. Questions are asked that have already been answered minutes before. Men make suggestions that are widely agreed with, to the chagrin of the women who have made the exact same suggestion earlier in the discussion with no response.

There is a disagreement and one of the participants remembers that it is time to go home to feed her dog.  Another person wants to get home before dark. Another has arranged for a taxi that will be there in five minutes.

Meeting adjourned.

If you are looking for a daily prompt, try this one.  It posts daily, is easy to post your answer on and stays active for a month.  The Daily Addictions prompt today isconcerted.”

Psychedelic Blossom: Flower of the Day, June 4, 2018

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For Cee’s Flower Prompt.

Flummoxed


Flummoxed

I fear that I am flummoxed about where to post this poem
since Daily Post abandoned us, our postings have no home
where we can find each other sufficiently clear.
Just where do we post them? Is it here or here or here?
I applaud your efforts. I know you’ve planned and planned.
You have your daily promptings sufficiently manned.
The problem is we need one place where we can find each other
once we have surveyed the prompt and written yet another
poem or essay most profound that we would like to share.
Except, where should we put it?  There, or there or there?
The solution to this problem has me tearing at my hair.
Please give me a solution. Where should I post this? Where?

Perhaps I’ve overstepped my bounds, and if I have I fear
that you’ll simply say that I should  hang it in my ear!

 

The prompt today is flummoxed. 

Petrified “Would”

 

Please enlarge and examine this photo carefully, lest you miss the point of it.

Petrified “Would”

Wood, it seems, in days gone by
stood long enough to petrify,
but once mankind required attire,
and therefore was in need of fire,
he found meat tasted better fried,
and since, no wood has petrified.
Each tree that grows is quickly used.
Our rainforests have been abused
to grow more cattle and more crops.
Our war on forests never stops.
Erosion creases soil in gullies.
Each pipeline scars, each factory sullies.
I fear it won’t be rectified
‘til man himself is petrified!
If only all the big guys would
heed the solution while they could!

The prompt at Daily Addictions was petrify.