The Numbers Game #95. Please Play Along! Oct 20, 2025

Welcome to “The Numbers Game #95”. Today’s number is 217. To play along, go to your photos file folder 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 titleThis 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 and View as Gallery.***

Flower Macros for Macro Monday

Click on Flowers to Enlarge.

For Macro Monday

Art Show Finery for Cellpic Sunday

 

Some photos taken at the Artists of Lake Chapala Show yesterday. Lots to look at in addition to the art!!!

For Cellpic Sunday

I must pose an indelicate question….

With all of these nationwide No Kings rallies..up to 200,000 strong, what do folks do when they need a restroom? Were portapotties provided? Must have been a formidable task…

“Firm Ground” for Ragtag Daily Press

 

Firm Ground

Between all of you and me,
I’ve no experience with scree.
Given the type of ground to walk on,
scree’s the surface I would balk on.
Other folks may be adventurous.
My choice is usually ventureless!

The RDP prompt is “scree.”  (Image borrowed from the RDP prompt site.)

New Führer, for The Sunday Whirl

Getty Image

Given the task of writing with no set prescribed topic, my mind always goes to stories of the past. It serves them up like medicine—a treasured dose that blows away the control of a world too bent on bad news. They trigger gratitude for a simpler world that had recently dispensed with Hitler’s threat. Our country had regained control of the world, along with a union of nations bent on peace and the worth of every man, no matter what color or nationality or faith—practices seventy years later again considered something to prompt a shooting match with bigger guns as a new führer (this time our own) practices his strength, his guns aimed at whom? Next time, perhaps you. Perhaps me.

Words for the Sunday Whirl were: serve medicinal gratitude mind triggers blow control shoot practice treasure you stories

Dental Retaliation

Dental Retaliation

Do you remember toothbrushes lined up on a rack
in the medicine cabinet, at the mirror’s back?
Your father’s brush was ocean blue, your mother’s brush was green,
your sister’s brush the reddest red that you had ever seen,
whereas your brush’s handle had no color at all—
as though it was the ugliest sister at the ball.

How you yearned for color, reaching for your brush
as the first summer’s meadowlark called to break the hush
of the early morning while you were sneaking out
to be the first one out-of-doors to see what was about.
Making that fast decision, your hand fell on the red,
thinking your sister wouldn’t know, for she was still abed.

You put toothpaste upon it, wet it at the tap
and ran the brush over each tooth as well as every gap.
Each toothbrush flavor was different, your older sis had said,
so you thought it would be different brushing your teeth with red.
Your father’s brush was blueberry, your mother’s brush was mint.
Your sister’s luscious cherry—its flavor heaven-sent.

“But because you are adopted,” your sister had the gall
to tell you, “they gave you the brush with no flavor at all.”
You waited to taste cherries, but that taste never came.
That red brush tasted like toothpaste. It tasted just the same
as every other morning when you brushed with yours.
You heard your sister stir upstairs, the squeaking of the floors.

You toweled off her toothbrush and hung it in the rack
and started to run out the door. Then something brought you back.
You opened up the mirror and grabbed her brush again.
A big smile spread across your face—a retaliatory grin.
The dread cod liver oil stood on the tallest shelf.
You were barely big enough to reach it for yourself.

You dipped her toothbrush in it, then quickly blew it dry.
Replaced it, shut the cabinet, and when you chanced to spy
your own reflection in the glass, each of you winked an eye.
Then you ran out to cherry trees to catch the first sunbeam
and brush your teeth with cherries while you listened for her scream.

(Not a true story, by the way!!!)

 

For One Word Sunday the prompt is “Teeth.” Image created with help from AI.

“Bad Sport” for SOCS

Bad Sport

I don’t do sports, nor watch them, either.
A one block jog? I’d need a breather.
At volleyball, I don’t excel.
Touch football is a sort of hell.
For passing time, by hook or crook,
Jog on alone. I’ll read a book!!!

The Stream of Consciousness Prompt for Oct 18 is “Hook.”

Poolside Picnic

Click on photos to enlarge.

Lately, my water delivery has begun any time from midnight to 5:30 A.M.  I drain the hot tub and remove about 1/3 of the water from the pool the day before as by then the water is cold.  It streams into my cistern to be used for watering the garden and spare lot/sculpture garden below (no water wasted) and the nearly boiling-hot thermal water from Colima vocano 80 miles away comes streaming into my pool and hot tub to cool down a bit so I can actually make use of it by evening or the next morning.

Today I got up at 5:30 when I heard it streaming in. By 8, I noticed the hot tub was full and running over into the pool and when I went down to turn off the water, I noticed dozens of tiny black ants swarming over the 2-foot wide surface of the edging around the pool. Unable to see the purpose for their swarming, I nonetheless was able to see that a number of wasps were also swooping down to the stone surround. Then I realized that the wasps were actually feeding on the ants!  I ran in to get my phone to take photos to document this surprising event, but alas, when I returned, only ants remained. No wasps.  I then returned to the house to try to find something on the internet to back up what I’d viewed and Meta Al informed me that:

Yes, some wasps eat small black ants, while others do not. Some wasps are predators that hunt and eat insects, including ants, which can be a protein source for their larvae. However, other species are either parasitoids that lay eggs inside ants, or they may attack ants defensively when competing for resources, rather than eating them. (Info derived from AI)

“Boogaloo” and Other Mysteries Solved, for Fibbing Friday

(Image created with help from AI)

The Fibbing Friday task-at-hand is:

1. Why is there no ‘three quarters back’ in American Football (you have a quarterback, halfback and full back) ? Because you already have one quarterback. It would redundant to have  two more.
2. What is a stickleback? A French back-scratcher.
3. What is a boogaloo? Quarters for an Eskimo ghost.
4. What is Victoria’s Secret? Falsies.
5. What is in a Victoria sandwich? Coins kept in a tiny coin purse tucked into her cleavage.
6. What is the secret of the Black Magic Box? All of its magic leaked out long ago.
7. Why do mice squeak? Not enough oil in the cheese.
8. Where will you find a TRV? Usually, right after a TOPSY.
9. What is a Demo? Someone who didn’t vote for Trump.
10. What is a toadstool? A poorly-placed stool often run into in the dark. Ouch!