There is a little floating disk in my pool that is a solar-powered fountain. Here it is floating in front of the bank of succulents beside my pool. I was in the pool, taking the photo.
Bright
Why do all our memories fade out to pastels?
The dulling of the colors, the muffling of the bells?
Often we discover that a happening once dated
becomes a strain of music half-remembered, mostly faded,
and we labor to remember a life so full and vast
that fades down to a shadow relegated to the past.
Better to infuse the present with such light
that all its various colors shine out vividly and bright.
For RDP prompt: Bright
Story Songs
The Andrews Sisters, Les Brown and his Band of Renown, Spike Jones. These are the only records I can remember from my parents’ collection. When I got older, I listened to my 4 years older sister’s records: Pat Boone, Elvis–jitterbug music. When I got to record collecting age it was the era of the sad story: Johnny Get Angry, girls killed in car wrecks, My Boyfriend’s Back (and he’s comin’ after you-ooo.,) Red Roses for a Blue Lady. The songs were narrative and told pretty basic stories of love, death and teenage angst.
I think they did have an effect because I still want a song with a strong narrative. For this reason I like the Avett Brothers, Gillian Welch, Brett Dennen, Chris Smither, Joe Purdy, Townes Van Zandt, Rickie Lee Jones, Steve Earle, Tom Waits…oh, lots of others–who tell stories and interpret them in their own distinctive way. I love harmony ala the Andrews Sisters–A modern equivalent is the Wailin’ Jennys. When I was small, in the days before TV, we had an big Victrola cabinet radio/record player that had a record changer so you could put a stack on. I still associate those songs of the forties and fifties with my parents.
Today’s MVB prompt is song.
I’m posting this for a friend. This is a fabulous house in Chapala where my friend Candace lived for many years. It now belongs to another friend, Arlene!
For Cee’s FOTD
Grandma grinds plums in her conical grinder, shredding the flesh from the pits. Under the table, my little brother sits, purple around his mouth from taste-testing the plums he helped her pick. My father pushes a cooling cup of Postum closer to my grandmother as she resumes the story I’ve interrupted. I dash to my room, having just minutes to prepare for the dance before my car full of friends arrives, honking the horn. My Grandmother begins another story about the old country as I tear off my school jeans. I dress in her stories—patterned and purple as night.
For Friday Fictioneers we are to write a story of under 100 words.
For CFFC: Commercial Buildings or Store fronts
Welcome to “The Numbers Game #52.” Today’s number is 173. 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.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 