For Cee’s FOTD
For Cee’s FOTD
Welcome to “The Numbers Game #59” Today’s number is 180. To play along, go to your photos file and type that number into the search bar. Then post a selection of the photos you find that include that number and post a link to your blog in my Numbers Game blog of the day. If instead of numbers, you have changed the identifiers of all your photos into words, pick a word or words to use instead, and show us a variety of photos that contain that word in the title.This prompt will repeat each Monday with a new number. If you want to play along, please put a link to your blog in comments below. Here are my contributions to the album.
Click on photos to enlarge.
Click on photos to enlarge.
Ragtag saved saved the day! I had been looking through 2 weeks of photographs and culled out my favorites, but had no idea where I’d use them and they were cluttering up my desktop. Then, as if by magic, I saw that the prompt today was “Photograph.” Although there was no “s” on the end of it, I decided to improvise, so here they are. Thanks, Ragtag. They were mostly taken in the jardin in San Juan Cosala during an arts/crafts sale and kids art experience, at the beach and in my yard. A couple are from my pinata party before Xmas. If I can find it, I’ll publish a link to a story I wrote about the lady in the shawl over 20 years ago. She has since moved from her house on the beach to her daughter’s house at the entrance to the Raquet Club. What is Morrie looking at in the 21st photo? Look at # 22 to see. Okay, time to go clear off my computer desktop! I won’t reveal the condition of my real desktop–as in furniture. Okay, I lied. Here it is:
Would someone send me a prompt to deal with it?
For RDP, the prompt is Photograph.
And also, for Cellpic Sunday
The Rock Star’s Lament
I scan the shadows for lurking fans,
as staff surveys surrounding vans.
We know their tricks, know where they gather,
and what gets them in a lather.
Their heads snap back at full attention
when they hear the very mention
of my name and flashbulbs flash.
They ask for autographs and cash.
They reach to touch or cast me gifts.
They corner me on stairs or lifts.
They feign a faint or hum a song
I’ve just recorded as they walk along
the path they know I daily walk,
hoping for a little talk.
I should feel flattered, except that it’s
exhausting to be loved to bits!!!!
For the Sunday Whirl Wordle today, the prompt words are:
touch hum flash faint gather staff tricks head snap bits cast shadows
Thanks to Sam Moghadam on Unsplash for the image.
Caroline Kennedy wrote a scathing letter to key senators on Tuesday, calling her cousin, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a “predator” addicted to attention from airing dangerous views on vaccinations and who is unfit to be the nation’s health secretary.
She urged lawmakers questioning Mr. Kennedy at his confirmation hearings Wednesday and Thursday to reject his nomination. She cited his lack of experience, misinformed views on vaccines and personal attributes. In the letter, she described how he led other family members “down the path of drug addiction.”
“His basement, his garage, and his dorm room were the centers of the action where drugs were available, and he enjoyed showing off how he put baby chickens and mice in the blender to feed his hawks,” Ms. Kennedy wrote. “It was often a perverse scene of despair and violence.”
Her letter was first reported in The Washington Post.
Ms. Kennedy expressed particular outrage over the new disclosures in his ethics agreement filed with the Senate, which she described as outlining how his “crusade against vaccination has benefited him in other ways.”
She cited Mr. Kennedy’s decision to keep a financial stake in litigation against Merck, which makes a key vaccine against the human papillomavirus (HPV) that is administered to protect against cervical cancer.
“In other words, he is willing to enrich himself by denying access to a vaccine that can prevent almost all forms of cervical cancer and which has been safely administered to millions of boys and girls,” Ms. Kennedy wrote.
Finite
In the end, all the same.
Although remembering your name,
eventually no one knows
the you that lived inside your clothes.
They may see your charming smile,
your tender looks or cunning guile,
and still not have the faintest clue
of the authentic, inner you.
Perhaps we start out all the same;
so who’s the one that we should blame
when some turn into Phyllis Dillers
and others into serial killers?
Ghandi, Hitler, Bundy, and
the rest of us, by nature’s hand
instilled with sin or piety
in infinite variety.
But still, at end of life, we fall,
not so different after all.
At the very end of day,
returned to dust, we blow away.
For Just Jot It the prompt is to include a word with “fini” in it.
The Way
The well-bricked path leads steeply down
to the bottom of the town
to mysteries that can’t be seen,
with many pleasures in-between.
Neatly stuccoed walls with doors
recessed but opening onto floors
perhaps mosaic or well-worn wood
you’d stoop to caress if you could.
Plants in front of every dwelling
exude the green that you’ve been smelling
to balance all the brick and stone
as you walk down this road alone.
Path leads to steps to path to road
and far below, the mother lode
of other souls, milling there
beneath that final lonely stair.
Your trip down of double worth.
First lone reflection, then the mirth
of company that you knew not
all along, was what you really sought.
for The Unicorn Challenge we are to write a short piece no longer than 250 words based on the above photograph.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 