Click on Photo to enlarge.
I had to stop the car and back up to get this one. Loved everything that was going on.
Door in the Making
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Monthly Archives: June 2019
Shaving Brush Tree, FOTD, June 20, 2019
Once again, Bob saved the day by identifying this flower. It is a pseudobombax ellipticum! (Commonly known as a shaving brush tree bloom.) If you have your own mystery flower of plant, try letting Bob come to the rescue. He is the pit bull of flower identification. Find him here: Love’s flower identification site.
For Cee’s FOTD. See her gorgeous peony HERE.
Sinning
Sinning
Out here at my grandpa’s farm, there isn’t any sinning.
We’re as innocent as Eve way back at the beginning
before original sin was born, decreed by the Almighty
and Eve was forced to don a fig leaf in lieu of a nightie.
As we kneel to milk the cows, we also kneel in prayer,
peeling all our sins away, layer after layer.
But I prefer to say Eve’s sin was merely hers alone.
I should get to do the sin for which I must atone!
It’s a Gas
Waaay back in June of 2014, when I had about ten followers–none of them followers of today–I wrote this poem. I just stumbled upon it, having totally forgotten it, but it seems so timely today as we become more and more aware of the mess that plastic has made of our world, that I decided to rerun it.
It’s a Gas
I know that I saw it on You Tube
(and I’m sure that it wasn’t a dream)—
a machine that shreds old soda bottles
and melts them to make gasoline.
The machine they were using to make it
was compact—and could possibly be
installed in each house or wherever
you think you might like it to be.
Grocery stores, motels or roadside—
(wherever these bottles collect)
instead of machines set for vending,
would have a machine to inject
with all of the plastic you brought there
and for it you’d get, I deduce,
credit for all of the petrol
the bottles you brought in produce.
Every gas station would honor
these chits that you’d get every day.
You’d make a big saving on gas bills
with bottles you once threw away.
You could save up your old plastic bottles
and toss them right into your trunk
right next to the tools and blankets and flares
and all of the usual junk.
And when you next went for refreshments,
for soda or candy or chips,
you could also deposit your bottles,
’cause your car also needs a few sips.
The process I describe here is not fictional. Google “pyrolysis” if you want more information.
Confessions of Hatface
Confessions of Hatface
My father calls me hatface because of my addiction
for wearing things upon my head because of my conviction
that I look prettier in hats or hairdos most original
to make me look exotic––French or Greek or aboriginal.
I wear my cat under my arm, my socks upon my head.
Rather than be ordinary, I’d rather be dead.
Sometimes I walk my rabbit. When he walks on his hind feet,
for sure, we’ve the attention of everyone we meet.
My rabbit sheds his rabbit skin and wears a shirt instead,
and me? I change my head socks and put bows upon my head.
Our skin is very pliable. It stretches like Band-aids,
so Sis and I just pull it up in pretty little braids.
In sunlight, flowers surprise me by sprouting from my head.
I never know what to expect when rising from my bed.
I have two patron blackbirds perched one upon each shoulder.
They’d be perching on my head if they were any bolder.
A bluebird doubles as my kite, the string held in its mouth.
Sometimes he flies me east or west, and sometimes we fly south.
I’m a very special girl. I’m not at all predictable––
a miracle that Jackie Hurlbert found me this depictable!
Thanks to Charmed Chaos for thinking up this picture prompt for dVerse Poets and to jackie Hurlbert for letting her use her beautiful paintings as prompts. We were to choose one to write about, but I chose all of them. Click on her name to see more of her work.
Sisterly Spats
Sisters
Squabbles between siblings seem to be a common thread
in every family I know, no matter how well bred.
Pillow fights might escalate into something more—
slapping and hair-pulling and rolling on the floor.
Age nourishes the problem with petty jealousy.
Nothing like a boy to end a sister’s loyalty!
Squabbles over borrowed clothes—a stain or a ripped hem,
hormones, insecurities and problems strictly femme.
Cruel labels given: “sloppy, slutty, fat,”
exacerbate the problem by giving tit for tat.
All the sisters of our friends seem to be so swell.
Why is it that we had to draw the sister straight from Hell?
At what point does the shift occur? When do the battles end?
What turns a sparring sister into a girl’s best friend?
Nieces and nephews help by turning sisters into aunties.
Bonding over choosing pretty dresses, frilly panties.
What is it in a baby that tends to heal old wrongs?
Memories of past adventures? Those re-remembered songs?
Old squabbles once forgotten make way for fonder thought—
giving thanks at last for the sisters that we’ve got.
Prompts for today are sibling, label, nourish and exacerbate.
Hibiscus: FOTD June 19, 2019
False Dragonhead Flower, June 18, 2019
This is the request I sent out into the universe yesterday:
I should know what this is but can’t remember. If someone refreshes my memory, I’ll post the name.
And although Pat, Angloswiss, Ghostmmnc, Derrick and Slmret came to my aid (Thanks, all,) Bob at Love Will Bring Us Together seems to be the most thorough and persuasive in his identification, agreeing with Pat, Angloswiss and Slmret, and Derrick agrees with him. Here is his solution to the flower mystery:
It’s definitely a member of the Lamiales Order of plants that includes all 3 you are deciding between, but Pat is right – it’s a member of the genus Physostegia probably P virginiana – False Dragonhead.
Foxgloves belong to genus Digitalis and they generally have their flowers on one ‘side’ of the stem. The flowers seem to have more of a wide open ‘mouth’ than the dragonheads.
The Physostegia flowers are evenly spread about the stem at 4 right angles to one another in cross-section.
What’s more, (I’m so proud,) I seem to have driven Bob to declaring himself the Robin Hood of plant identification. He went on to say:If you wish to avail yourself, i now have my ‘service’ up on my blog: 🙂
So let’s keep him busy and out of trouble. He’s taken care of
all of my identification woes for the past year and so now extends his generous offer out to the blogging world in general. Once again, thanks, Bob.
And, again, thanks to all of you who helped to solve the mystery.
For Cee’s FOTD.
Abandoned
Abandoned
Droplets on the window screen are caught, each in its trap—
a wire cage suspending them inches from my lap.
Your silkscreen propped against the wall, only half completed.
My heart, once full, now emptying, each moment more depleted.
You’ve vanished with your waxes. Our nuptial pledge seems over.
Your true nature reassumed, once more you are a rover.
This half-empty silkscreen your only good-bye letter,
my father’s warnings fill my mind. I should have known you better.
Prompts today are droplet, silkscreen, deal and betray.
Paper Art
Karen at Momshieb published a photo of this wonderful cookbook she found in a second hand shop that was made up of a number of pamphlets bound together. It reminded me of this artwork made in Bali out of rolled magazine pages that I saw in a gallery on Prince Edward Island. Wanted to share it with her and the easiest way was to share it with everyone on my blog. After viewing the photos below, click on the red hyperlink above to see her cookbook.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 