Two colors of hibiscus grow on this one tree: red and yellow. This one grows at the west end of the malecón in San Juan Cosala.
For Cee’s FOTD,
Tree Hibiscus: FOTD Nov 13, 2023
6 Replies
Monthly Archives: November 2023
The Escape
The Escape
Lips pressed against a crystal glass,
she gazes at the stars.
A prisoner, she scans the sky
from Jupiter to Mars.
Within this arranged marriage,
her future has been cinched.
Trapped within tradition,
her fire has been quenched.
Blind terror fills her body
as she thinks of what she’ll lose,
for it is another
she’d have if she could choose.
A pity that she has to take
this means of her escape,
as she tucks the lethal bottle
in the pocket of her cape
and drinks the draught in one fast gulp,
then lets out one long sigh
as she enters that dark tunnel
that leads from Earth to sky.
The Sunday Whirl Wordle 628 prompts are: blind lips body escape pressed pitied tunnel lose trapped fire glass stars (Image by Louis Galvez on Unsplash.)
Empty Nest
Empty Nest
“Open Morrie, open!” We pried our Scottie’s jaws apart to find a small bird whole inside his mouth, rain soaked and bedraggled, its tail feathers either gone or not yet grown in. For three days, we sheltered the baby bird with heater on, taking him for feedings on the terrace table where his father and mother could find him and return once or twice per hour to fill him up like a small mechanical bird purchased in the market who, when wound up, first hops, then sits dormant until fueled again.
This fledgling had survived under our care for three days and four nights, hale and hearty. Loud chirps brought the mother, at first, until yesterday, when we could see a new nest in construction. Then the father came, first to a nearby rock, then later, clung to the side of the cage to fill his nestless chick like a small car from the fuel pump.
This morning dawned overcast, and though the chick needed feeding, when I neared the rock, I felt his tremors and took him back to the house for another 10 minutes warming, then tucked him into an old nest I’d found years ago and saved. I hoped for protection and warmth and security, perhaps a memory of the nest he’d fallen from. Then I carried him in his cage back to the tree to be fed.
From the hammock, far enough away to pose no threat, I watched the father’s descent and an ascent too quick. Then no return, so that when minutes later I searched the cage for the small bird tucked into that scavenged nest inside, I found the nest empty and one ruffled back against the cage bottom, claws curled upwards.
There is no difference equal to the difference between a body chirping—wings pulsing—and its empty husk after the life has left. No question bigger than: What is life that we can only see it through what it inhabits, and where does it go when it soars away?
I buried Little Bird in this planter underneath the yellow flower.
With a stick covered with bird seed hung overhead.
Bougainvillea – FOTD Nov 12, 2023
Found Poem
jdb photo
This is actually a true story. When I was at the beach a few years ago, I had a house right on the beach and it got so I never knew who I would find on my porch when I woke up in the morning.
I published this poem once before, three years ago, but here it is again:
Found Poem
One and two and three and four.
Four little music makers pounding on my door.
One beats a rhythm, one toots a horn––
wild and sweet––sort of forlorn.
One hums a tune behind his teeth––
a sort of descant underneath
the melody on the steel guitar.
The gulls reel in from near and far
to add their screams to the refrain,
then fan their wings, silent again.
Four musicians at my gate.
I wait for their music to abate.
Then I go and let them in
to add my music to the din.
I sing my lyrics fast and slow
first soft then loud, my lyrics go
up and over the drums and horn–
out into the sandy morn.
Over the rocks and out to sea,
setting all our music free.
When the drummer leaves my porch,
he leaves just three to loft the torch.
Too soon the horn, too, fades away
but the hummer’s here to stay,
and the steel guitar swells out to fill
the morning air until until
the morning fades into full sun
and our melody comes done.
Soon guitar and singer fade,
their morning share of music made,
and I fold my songs away.
I’ll bring them out some other day.
With music left behind I wind
only words around my mind.
They weave their spell with me along.
I lose myself in their noisy throng.
Wander aimless, round and round,
in getting lost, this poem is found.
Hibiscus: FOTD Nov 11, 2023
For Cee’s FOTD
My Sister Patti’s Stroganoff Pie. Yum.
1953: My sister Patti and I. I was 6, she was 10.
My Good Sister’s Stroganoff Shepherd’s Pie
Almost everything I know about how to cook came from one of four sources: my mother, my sister Patti, my Indonesian Cookbook, Pearl Buck’s Cookbook or my Australian friend Dierdre, who taught me how to make an authentic East Indian Curry. But the recipe that follows continues to be my favorite, and one of the easiest. It is my sister Patti’s recipe for shepherd’s pie, with a few alterations for my own taste. Patti, any contradictions may be noted in the comments section!
My Good Sister’s Stroganoff Shepherd’s Pie
6 white or red potatoes
milk, butter, salt or garlic salt and pepper to taste.
2 lbs. hamburger
1 large chopped white onion
1 cup coarsely grated raw carrots
1 finely diced green pepper
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 cup sour cream
*Clean and cut up potatoes and boil until tender in lightly salted water. No need to peel potatoes.
*Brown hamburger, green pepper and onion in skillet, chopping up the hamburger into loose meat.
*Add grated carrots for the last 5 minutes or so.
*When meat is completely browned and green pepper is tender, stir in the soup and sour cream.
*When thoroughly mixed and all ingredients are hot, place in a large cake pan.
*Mash potatoes, adding butter and salt or garlic salt and pepper to taste.
*Spread potatoes over the meat mixture and place in 250-300 degree Fahrenheit oven for 1/2 hour or until ready to serve, covering with aluminum foil and lowering oven if more time is necessary before serving.
*If you wish, you can place daubs of butter and/or grated cheddar cheese over top of potatoes and sprinkle with paprika to garnish.
(Patti’s recipe did not include carrots, green pepper, garlic or cheese.)
All amounts are arbitrary. I never use set amounts, so I’m guessing–as is usual in most oft-repeated recipes. Vary the amount of ingredients to your taste. The pieces hold together a bit better if it is allowed to cool slightly before serving.
I always think of my sister when I serve this dish, and those two years when I was still in college and she moved back to a house just a few blocks from my dorm. I remember many home-cooked meals and that she made the best Vodka Collins that I’ve ever had. Hers was the only place I could drink in college without being carded! Ha. I thank her for all the comforts of family and home provided during those years and afterwards when I came back from Africa and she again gave me a home base for a year until I got settled on my own.
For. MVB Sister prompt
Time for More Lies!
1. What is Allium Sepa (Cepa)? What the head of the sperm bank said to his main donor as they walked past a wall of last year’s crop of babies when the donor asked him which of them were his progeny.
2. What is Arran Pilot? A person from Isfahan who flies a plane.
3. What is a love apple? A swelling on the lip caused by too-strenuous kissing.
4. To what genus do cabbages, broccoli and cauliflowers belong? Einstein (And I must point out that you have a spelling error in your question.)
5. Which vegetables were the first to be canned? Asparagus. It was done alphabetically.
6. Pepinex and Telegraph are varieties of what? A type of energizing medicine and a means for pachyderms to communicate over long distances.
7. What is a White Lisbon? A city in Portugal after a freak snowstorm.
8. What is calabrese? A slight California wind.
9. What was described as a cabbage with college education? Those studying to take the bar exam are known as slawstudents.
10. What is a Pentland Javelin? A new model of sportscar.
Garden Views
The garden looks great, but it is getting a little overgrown in places. Does anyone know where Paciano put the clippers?
and produces, sun
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 