... my long time froggy friend waiting patiently to have his arms filled with something nice.
[ from early June ]
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Old Apple Box ...
Old Apple Box ..., a photo by Sparky2* on Flickr.
...Score! Found it at a garage sale ... ♥♥♥ "Canadian Apples" - makes me think of all my Canadian friends! :-)
[ from mid May ]
Mother's Day Gift of Lilies ... :-)
The butterfly bush is now ovr 15ft tall - and solid with blooms, and bees and butterflies!
Repurposed ...
... my little home made fountain - this year. Last year's pot shattered in the cold and so this one is a little different and probably won't last because of kiddoes and Krypto. lol!
At any rate, the tiny seed starter pot on top still reads "Black-eyed". I didn't have time this year for doing anything at all with a thought toward spring in my backyard so at least the pots aren't sitting idle; they're simply making lovely water music instead of flowers! ;-)
(from April)
At any rate, the tiny seed starter pot on top still reads "Black-eyed". I didn't have time this year for doing anything at all with a thought toward spring in my backyard so at least the pots aren't sitting idle; they're simply making lovely water music instead of flowers! ;-)
(from April)
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Waiting for Spring
How to Make a Game of Waiting
by Jennifer K. Sweeney
This is a capsized game
and there is no display of aces at the end.
Buy a rare and expensive plant that never blooms.
Rearrange your books by the color of the spines.
Bury all your keys that don’t unlock anything.
These are not rules but merely suggestions
of what has worked for others.
For instance, the man who painted landscapes
on his daughter’s sheet music.
Put a big rock on your desk.
Do not name the rock.
Take the numbers off the clock and mail them
to your creditors.
Stitch the hours onto a kite.
Every night, ask until you can hear what replies.
*********
Thanks AGAIN to SkeletalMess for the amazing texture; it's one I love!
Two more incredible poems by Jeniffer K. Sweeney
by Jennifer K. Sweeney
This is a capsized game
and there is no display of aces at the end.
Buy a rare and expensive plant that never blooms.
Rearrange your books by the color of the spines.
Bury all your keys that don’t unlock anything.
These are not rules but merely suggestions
of what has worked for others.
For instance, the man who painted landscapes
on his daughter’s sheet music.
Put a big rock on your desk.
Do not name the rock.
Take the numbers off the clock and mail them
to your creditors.
Stitch the hours onto a kite.
Every night, ask until you can hear what replies.
*********
Thanks AGAIN to SkeletalMess for the amazing texture; it's one I love!
Two more incredible poems by Jeniffer K. Sweeney
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Spring is Peeping in my Window ...
Unbelievable how heavy and exhausting a camera can be to hold steady after a two week bout with the flu!! That I even had the slightest interest in trying tells me that I must be on the mend, lol! Caught this from my kitchen window and it was just what I needed to pull me outside to notice all the new backyard birds and budding signs of spring. Ahhh, the healing nurture of nature ...
Answer to a Child's Question
Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove,
The Linnet and Thrush say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they're silent—the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving—all come back together.
But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he—
"I love my Love, and my Love loves me!"
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Answer to a Child's Question
Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove,
The Linnet and Thrush say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they're silent—the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving—all come back together.
But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he—
"I love my Love, and my Love loves me!"
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Friday, February 17, 2012
Backyard Beauty
Haven't had many opportunities for new shots lately. Now I'm finding some free time ... I should be doing many other things - adult, responsible things - but I would rather play -- need to play - ;-) - and the weather isn't cooperating - so I'm just archive diving today ... reviewing old pics from around the same time in previous years. I didn't realize how very many I never used for anything at all!
Daily Life
by Susan Wood
A parrot of irritation sits
on my shoulder, pecks
at my head, ruffling his feathers
in my ear. He repeats
everything I say, like a child
trying to irritate the parent.
Too much to do today: the dracena
that's outgrown its pot, a mountain
of bills to pay and nothing in the house
to eat. Too many clothes need washing
and the dog needs his shots.
It just goes on and on, I say
to myself, no one around, and catch
myself saying it, a ball hit so straight
to your glove you'd have to be
blind not to catch it. And of course
I hope it does go on and on
forever, the little pain,
the little pleasure, the sun
a blood orange in the sky, the sky
parrot blue and the day
unfolding like a bird slowly
spreading its wings, though I know,
saying it, that it won't.
Daily Life
by Susan Wood
A parrot of irritation sits
on my shoulder, pecks
at my head, ruffling his feathers
in my ear. He repeats
everything I say, like a child
trying to irritate the parent.
Too much to do today: the dracena
that's outgrown its pot, a mountain
of bills to pay and nothing in the house
to eat. Too many clothes need washing
and the dog needs his shots.
It just goes on and on, I say
to myself, no one around, and catch
myself saying it, a ball hit so straight
to your glove you'd have to be
blind not to catch it. And of course
I hope it does go on and on
forever, the little pain,
the little pleasure, the sun
a blood orange in the sky, the sky
parrot blue and the day
unfolding like a bird slowly
spreading its wings, though I know,
saying it, that it won't.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Whomperjawed
Urban Dictionary's definition of a word we use often around here when things don't go according to plan - when the world feels a little skewed or tilted ... ;-)
1. whomperjawed
Southern term referring to an object or person that is out of sorts.
Ex: I got out of the car and the wind was blowing so excessively that my hair got all whomperjawed.
"messed up" "jacked up" "screwed up" screwed twisted
We kids would all laugh hysterically when my grandmother used the word "whomperjawed" - she said it in such a fun way ... usually in reference to something like a crooked tablecloth or picture frame on the wall (or a chore we'd done poorly in her estimation!)
Interesting bit here ... evidently Molly Ivins used it frequently when discussing politics .. ;-)
wordcraft.infopop.cc/eve/forums/a/tpc/f/932607094/m/72760...
Then I stumbled on this poem - made me laugh ... perfect!
Poetics
By Howard Nemerov
You know the old story Ann Landers tells
About the housewife in her basement doing the wash?
She’s wearing her nightie, and she thinks, “Well, hell,
I might’s well put this in as well,” and then
Being dripped on by a leaky pipe puts on
Her son’s football helmet; whereupon
The meter reader happens to walk through
and “Lady,” he gravely says, “I sure hope your team wins.”
A story many times told in many ways,
The set of random accidents redeemed
By one more accident, as though chaos
Were the order that was before creation came.
That is the way things happen in the world:
A joke, a disappointment satisfied,
As we walk through doing our daily round,
Reading the meter, making things add up.
1. whomperjawed
Southern term referring to an object or person that is out of sorts.
Ex: I got out of the car and the wind was blowing so excessively that my hair got all whomperjawed.
"messed up" "jacked up" "screwed up" screwed twisted
We kids would all laugh hysterically when my grandmother used the word "whomperjawed" - she said it in such a fun way ... usually in reference to something like a crooked tablecloth or picture frame on the wall (or a chore we'd done poorly in her estimation!)
Interesting bit here ... evidently Molly Ivins used it frequently when discussing politics .. ;-)
wordcraft.infopop.cc/eve/forums/a/tpc/f/932607094/m/72760...
Then I stumbled on this poem - made me laugh ... perfect!
Poetics
By Howard Nemerov
You know the old story Ann Landers tells
About the housewife in her basement doing the wash?
She’s wearing her nightie, and she thinks, “Well, hell,
I might’s well put this in as well,” and then
Being dripped on by a leaky pipe puts on
Her son’s football helmet; whereupon
The meter reader happens to walk through
and “Lady,” he gravely says, “I sure hope your team wins.”
A story many times told in many ways,
The set of random accidents redeemed
By one more accident, as though chaos
Were the order that was before creation came.
That is the way things happen in the world:
A joke, a disappointment satisfied,
As we walk through doing our daily round,
Reading the meter, making things add up.
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