For Norm’s Thursday Doors.
For Norm’s Thursday Doors.
Photo by i yunmai on unsplash
Dieting and the Art of Romance
There’s a scintilla of a chance that I might still be kissed.
His arm around my shoulder, his hand gripping my wrist.
If it were to happen, I just might not take flight,
but claim that kiss with open lips, as though it were my right.
Just in case, I think I might just start on a new diet
so if the chance arises, I will have the nerve to try it.
The hills of Montenegro were filled with these flowers. They look like purple thistles…but I’m not sure that they were. The air was full of the fuzz that carried their seeds. Click on photos to enlarge.
This hydrant was in the middle of a field in Wyoming.
Wouldn’t want the fire hydrant to get wet!!!
We reached Corfu this morning and are now 8 hours ahead of my usual Central Standard Time in Mexico. This can wreak havoc with both maintaining contact with friends back home, sleep and appetite. This morning as I ate breakfast at what would have been midnight back home, I wrote a poem that had nothing to do with this subject. Unfortunately, I unthinkingly ripped it up and threw it away later after I used the same paper to record our scores for a dice game, so here is a substitute on the subject of what big time changes do to the psyche as well as the appetite.
I’m in trouble with reason. My time’s taken flight.
I don’t know the difference between day and night.
My head can accept we’re eight hours ahead,
though my body prefers to stay longer abed.
The diet they serve us now we’ve reached Corfu
agitates me with a troubling snafu.
When it’s breakfast time here, I am taken aback,
for my palate’s desirous of a midnight snack.
Time’s not in contention. I know I am wrong.
As they change the time, I should go along.
All day, it’s my stomach that keeps on resisting.
Shrimp cocktail? I’d rather they desist insisting.
Whatever they’re serving is not what I wish.
I’m ready for pancakes. They want to serve fish.
The meal I desire is not what they’re makin’.
They want to serve lobster when I prefer bacon.
I truly like visiting different places,
seeing strange sites and different faces.
Yet, I may give up traveling merely because
they cannot keep time the way that it was!
Today we got up at the crack of dawn to see the beautiful entrance to Montenegro. A few hours later we were driving up to the very top of the mountains you see in the photos in a Land Cruiser with a driver and two other people. The road was very narrow and proved to be harrowing when trying to pass full-sized buses on hairpin curves with sheer drop-offs on the side I was riding on. Vertigo prevailed. Click on the first photo to view all and read commentary on some. Give a bit of time for photos to focus. They should all be in clear focus.
All day long, in between heart attacks peering down sheer cliffs that we were edges from the sides of (me in the seat closest to the drop-off) I kept seeing these lovely little flowers, but we were going too fast for me to get a shot of them. Then after a day of harrowing but beautiful mountain scenery, we were lined up to get on the little boat to go back to the ship and I saw this little posy stuck into the hatband of the woman in front of me. It was preordained. I got my shot! And survived the day’s ride. More photos coming up.
Click on photos to enlarge.