Monthly Archives: August 2018

Hibiscus: Real Flower of the Day, Aug 31, 2018


Ho hum, another day, another hibiscus.  Thought I owed you a real flower in addition to forgottenman’s brain storm of a flower. (That storm being literal.)

for Cee’s Flower of the Day.

In Absentia


In Absentia

Although you may be absent, thoughts of you still linger.
I think you have my memory wound around your finger,
for though I find the lack of you totally endurable,
my memory suffers from a need that’s totally incurable.
Friends may think the distance between us is a pity,
and yet with one so erudite, so pithy, loyal and witty,
it seems you linger on even after you are bound
off to other regions— your presence a mere sound
heard over the telephone, imagined o’er the keys,
so I may have your company ‘most any time I please.
Relationships are more, my dear, than a simple presence.
Sometimes merely words suffice to conjure up your essence.


If you are still curious about this untypical relationship, read more about it HERE
and then HERE.

I have followed an additional prompt today, as you might notice below. The prompt words today are absent, linger, bound, pithy, durable. (I mistakenly recorded “pithy” as “pity” in my word chain, so you get both as a bonus.

Sort of a Flower: Flower of the Day, Aug 31, 2018

IMG_2071Okay, this hugely strange flower is forgottenman’s fault.  It was his idea that I form soggy towels into a flower and use them for my flower of the day. Obviously, there is a story that goes with this request.

First of all, in the middle of the night, there was a tremendous storm that went on for hours.  I went to sleep with LOUD rain and woke up early in the morning to LOUD rain.  I also awakened to Annie’s strident cries for breakfast, even though it was probably only 4 or 5 in the morning.  She was not to be denied, so I got up, walked down the hall from my bedroom towards the kitchen, and when I got to my guest room, discovered to my horror that the screen, locking bars and sliding glass door had all been left wide open and the half of the room nearest to those doors was filled with about 1/4 inch of rainwater!  The  bottom 2 feet of the drapes were soaked, furniture was standing in water, but luckily it had not yet reached the bedspread.  I waded through, locked all three doors,  then sloshed to the bathroom, collecting every towel I could find, along with a wastepaper basket and a big plastic bag.

Then I soaked up water. And soaked up water. And soaked up water, until all the towels were completely sodden.  I moved furniture, but when I found the CD player cord was wrapped around the big mirror/chest of drawers, I had to lean down and unplug it.  Unfortunately, the cord must have been frayed because I got a tremendous shock when I touched the cord.  Since I was standing in 1/4 inch of water, I was very lucky that I had rubber soles on my shoes.  That chest stayed where it was. After I had sopped up most of the water, I dragged the wastebasket (too heavy to carry) with the fully sodden towels down the hall to my shower and dumped the towels.

As security conscious as I usually am, why were the doors standing fully open? Well, that is the rest of the story.  The late afternoon/early evening before, when I had gone to feed the outside cats, I was dishing out the food when I heard a strange wild squeaking sound as the three cats streamed into the house to finish off whatever food my inside cat Annie had left from her last meal. This is their usual practice and they stream out again once I’ve dished up their portion outside.  This time, however, Ollie had brought in an uninvited guest–a squirming, still-live mouse.  He went streaking by, with me in hot pursuit.  I had visions of that mouse sneaking off to my closet or under a bed to raise a family.  In 17 years, I have never had a mouse in the house, other than those brought as offerings by the cats, and so far, they had exited calmly once requested to, but this was not the case with Ollie. For five minutes, I chased him unsuccessfully through the house.

When I changed my tactics and remained calm, he batted the mouse around, then took off for the spare room.  In hopes he would exit, I had opened all three layers of the doors: bars, screen, glass, but soon he had streaked off back down the hall, where I caught him batting the mouse around and quickly stepped on the tail of the now dead mouse so Ollie couldn’t reclaim it, nudging him aside with my foot and shutting the bedroom door on him so I could get the mouse in a garbage can without his assistance.  I then dumped the remains in the empty lot below me.  Story over.  Except the part of the story where I went back and closed the doors!!!

When I told forgottenman this story this morning, he of course insisted I should have taken photos for a blog story.  Fat chance!  Then, later, he Skyped me that I should arrange the towels into a flower and use them for flower of the day.  First I scoffed. Then I left to to complete the various errands of the day, getting home in late afternoon to that now-forgotten still-soaked pile of towels.  And, as usual, I followed directions.

Not all of the towels made the selection for floral material.  Here are the remaining towels.


Now, Cee, does this qualify as one of the most rule-breaking flower posts of your career?  Is it at least in the running?

Ollie, resting up after the jolly chase.

For Cee’s Flower of the Day.

The Unexpected



The Unexpected

“Taste,” if it could be dissected,
may involve the unexpected.
Convention calls for the reverse,
and so we might expect the worse,
but, instead, what might develop
is a charm that might envelop
all who enter as witness to it
and find there is a fitness to it.

I invite you to send me a photo that illustrates the theme of this poem, along with permission to post it. It might be art, fashion, architecture or house decor.

The prompt words today are taste, develop, unexpected and reverse.  Here are links to the websites that gave the prompts:

House Concert!!!! Share Your World, Aug 29, 2018

Do you prefer eating foods with nuts or no nuts? Nuts over nuts.  I even put them in salad.

Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? Closed, by long habit, beginning when I was five.  For the obvious reasons.

Are you usually late, early, or right on time? Right on time. I think it is rude to be early. I’m always running running at the last minute and when guests arrive early, it throws me off.  For the theater or a restaurant or appointment, I’m always a big early.

What did you appreciate or what made you smile this past week?  Feel free to use a quote, a photo, a story, or even a combination.

I had a house concert at my house with friends Becky McGuigan, Larry Kolczak and Agustin Calvaro Vasquez and family,  each doing a set. It was so much fun. Here are some views of goings-on. (Click on any photo to enlarge all.)

Click on any photo to enlarge all.  Enjoy.  Wish I could let you hear the music.

For Cee’s Share Your World prompt.

Typical Day


Click on any photo to enlarge all.

Typical Day

What had I done by seven o’clock?
I’d let in the dog groomer, fastened the lock.
By eight I had fed all the cats and the dog
and turned to my duties: my prompts and my blog.
What had I accomplished by eight or by nine?
I’d published one poem and started a line

of another I worked on for a short while
’til the plumber arrived with a motor and pile
of tools to put in my new garbage disposal.
I talked to the gardener, made a proposal
to plant a new tree, then the housekeeper came.
If my poem went undone, I’d Yolanda to blame.

We talked for awhile, then I bent to my task
A ten minute reprieve was the most I could ask.
At ten, it was Oscar, arrived for his next
lesson in English.  My poem is hexed!
I download five photos that if I am able,
I’ll use with the poem, then spring to the table.

We study the use of “what, when and who”
of “where, why,” and “how,” then the next thing we do
is read a new story about Tio Nacho.
who had an old hat that was not very macho.
He said it in English, I said it in Spanish,
but when we were finished, my poem seemed to vanish.

I finally found it hidden in “notes,”
Found all my photos. Found all my quotes.
I shoo the white kitty off of my purse,
because the plomero I must reimburse.
I publish my poem and close up my Mac.
That’s a typical day for this poetry hack!!!

Compulsion to Rhyme II


Compulsion to Rhyme II

By now you’ve read my oeuvre once or twice before.
It’s bulging out of file cases, stacked upon the floor.
It’s quickly filling up my blog and straying to the media.
Soon I fear I must compose my own encyclopedia.
It started out a habit but soon became compulsion.
My housecleaner surveys my poems with undisguised revulsion.
Spiders live within the files, cats use them for their beds,
so they serve grander purposes than cluttering up heads.
Perhaps someone could stop me with a cudgel or a gun,
but lacking that, I fear that when my final poem is done,
my heirs will have to market my oeuvre by the ton.


The prompt today was oeuvre. In case you’ve never encountered the word without its buddies hors and d’,  used alone, oeuvre means the works of a painter, composer or author, regarded collectively.