For the Thursday Doors challenge.
For the Thursday Doors challenge.
A few days ago I showed a different color of tabachine. This is the more usual color—and my favorite. Butterflies love them. So do I. Although my gardener calls the small bush varieties of the poinciana tabachine and the large tree varieties flamboyan, sites on the internet call the larger variety both tabachine and Royal Poinciana and this smaller variety a dwarf poinciana.
Pick a Pickled Pepper
Some girls lick on lollipops, but I never will.
I prefer the piquant taste of vinegar and dill.
Pickle up some peppers and shove them in a jar.
Put a label on it to show them who you are.
If a cute boy eats one, he will pucker up,
and perhaps you’ll plant a kiss where he deigned to sup.
Pick a cherry pepper, press it to your lips,
and that spicy boy might want to steal some sips.
Do not tell your mother. Do not tell your dad,
or that might be the only pepper that you ever had.
Lollipops are sweet but just a little coy.
Pickles work much better for picking out your boy.
The prompt today was lollipop. Strangely enough, the song “Lollipop, Lollipop” has been going through my mind for the past few days. I even made up different lyrics to the tune of it to sing to Annie, my 15-year-old ill cat, as I drove her (meowing all the way) home from the vet the other day. The men who stand in the road to wave people into the fish restaurants near San Juan Cosala must have wondered at me as I hollered out the strange song at the top of my lungs, just like my dad used to do to startle a howling baby into silence. Ah well. We get odder as we get older but have more of an excuse for it!
Click on first photo to enlarge all. I love the juxtaposition of the frilly gold flowers next to the stark cacti. This house has been being built for years. Glad they planted their wall vegetation early.
Do it Yourself
The ending was disastrous though it started out just fine.
I don’t have anyone to blame. The fault was purely mine.
I thought I knew the way to do it but was surely wrong.
I should have heeded the advice my friends gave all along.
But my father was a Dutchman. I inherited his genes.
To figure out most everything, I think I have the means.
I made and hung the kitchen shelf.
I installed my towel bars by myself.
I patched the wall
and then, y’all,
fast as a wink,
unplugged the sink.
As you can see, I’m competent. Sufficiently sufficient.
In household matters A to Z I’m startlingly efficient.
I guess I should have asked for help with my last operation,
for now I have to stay at home and feign I’m on vacation
lest every friend who sees me delivers an oration
about how I should read instructions,
not depend on pure deductions,
ask for help, request advice.
I heeded not, now pay the price.
The instructions that I never heeded
were probably the ones I needed.
The hair dye warning I failed to see
is in fact what ruined me.
For though I am really fond
of hair a lovely hue of blonde,
I fear I’m unfit to be seen
now that my hair’s a vivid green!
So for a few months I’ll be heard
by Skype or telephone or word,
but no one will ever see me
until repeated shampoos free me.
You do not have to say a word.
I know my actions were absurd.
I might have had lovely blonde locks
if only I had read the box!!!
The prompt today was disastrous. Image from the internet. Thanks, “Psycho!”
Please click on any photo to enlarge all.
They flicker like tiny sparks,
these rapid kittens
intense in attention,
every neighboring small movement.
Suspicious of brief distractions.
Violent, then soft like the feather
drifting to the window frame above,
forgotten by its intense stalkers
of a second before.
When I saw your flower post tonight, I couldn’t resist posting this photo of a lily pond I took just today, Cee!!!