Wizards Brewing

There’s a storm brewing

Winds raging, lightning strikes near

Thunder claps along

Wizards watch with glee

From the safety of their lairs

Raining down vengeance

And the wildness flows

From dark clouds filled with anger

Take that, you heathens

I know, I know! I write a lot of these silly poems about storms, but I haven’t gotten it just right yet, so I’ll keep on trying. The storms out here at Doright Manor are epic. Words just fall short of describing their majesty.

Peace, people!

True Story, or as Close as I Can Get

When we tell a true story, especially one in which tempers flared, the tendency is always to make oneself the good guy in the retelling. I’m going to do my best to relate the story of an interaction I had yesterday in a Publix grocery store as rationally and objectively as I can. Wish me luck.

I’d had a beautifully relaxing facial on Thursday morning, and was driving home to Doright Manor when I remembered that we needed a few items from the grocery store. Since I was just a mile or so from a Publix store I changed my route slightly and headed there.

First I went to the beauty aisle to pick up some shampoo for Studly Doright. He’s the most manly of men, yet he likes what I call, “Froo Froo” scented shampoos. Lots of florals or fruit essences. Sometimes I sneak in a more neutral scented shampoo, but I always end up having to use it because he won’t.

Then I shopped the produce section, searching for apples, oranges, strawberries, bananas and pineapple to satisfy our juicing habit. Studly really enjoys making juice every evening, and I try to keep fresh fruits on hand to encourage this new habit. Better fruit scented juice than fruit scented hair, I always say.

Finally I went to pick out a steak or two for him. I seldom eat meat anymore, but Studly does. I pulled my cart up parallel to the meat case, leaving a couple of feet between the cart and the case so others could peruse the section, as well.

I picked up one package of meat, placed it in a plastic bag inside my cart and turned to get another one. At the same time this big bruiser of a woman pulled her cart between mine and the case, moving me out of the way. I politely waited, thinking she’d be through soon, but she pulled out her phone and made a non-food related call.

“Excuse me,” J said. “Are you going to be awhile?”

“As long as it takes, lady.”

“Do you think perhaps I could have some room to get to the steaks?”

“When I’m done,” she said.

Okay, here I was wearing my peace sign t-shirt, feeling my blood pressure spike. This woman was almost my height, maybe an inch less than my 5’8″, but outweighed me by a good 50 lbs.

I indicated my cart, and said, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I parked my cart to allow others to shop as well. Not for you to block me out.”

“Tough!”

“Listen, lady, I’m going to look at the steaks whether you move or not.” I proceeded then to put my hip into her cart and push. Whew. Not smart, but damn. She had my dander up.

That’s when she threatened to knock the shit out of me. Her exact words.

Now, I should explain here that I did take a step back, but at the same time I said, “Bring it, bitch.”

My brain was screaming at me to shut up. There’s no way I wanted to fight, and I have no idea what I’d have done if she had taken a swing at me. Thankfully I didn’t have to find out. She turned her back, allowed me to find my steaks, and then I went to the checkout counter.

I’m sure she’s telling somebody about the mean hippie chick who threatened her at the Publix today. I still can’t believe I let her get to me like that. The steaks would’ve been there if I’d walked away for five minutes and come back to shop at my leisure. I’m so not proud of myself.

To top it off, I ruined the good vibes I had going from my facial. Damn.

Peace!!!! People.

Tea Leaves

She seeks the future

In the tea leaves’ swirled remains

Such intriguing shapes

Tasseomancy

From the handle, then clockwise

Reading ’round the cup

What fate awaits her?

Which symbols reveal the tale?

She hovers and yearns

For some reason yesterday morning I responded to a comment on my blog with the phrase “reading tea leaves.” The phrase stuck in my head and formed itself into the poem above.

I’ve never had a tea leaf reading done; although, many years ago I had my palm read. At the time Studly Doright and I lived in Kansas, and the palm reader told me I’d soon be moving to Florida, and that I’d meet my soul mate there. I just laughed at the time, but within the year Studly accepted a transfer to Melbourne, FL. Of course, I already had my soul mate, so I suppose her reading came true, since I meet him at the door almost every night. 😉

Peace, people.

Bated or Baited Breath?

Do you ever wonder how you survived without Google? I do, daily. A couple of days ago as I wrote my thoughts on Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, I included the phrase “with baited breath.”

I looked at the phrase more than once, squinting my eyes to discern if that, indeed, was the proper way to say someone was waiting in great suspense for something to happen. On one hand, it seemed right. Bait, meaning something that entices, could perhaps suit my purposes, but it seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece when I examined it with eyes wide open.

This appeared to be a job for Google.

I typed in, “Is it bated or baited breath?”

Then I waited (with either bated or baited breath) for fewer than two seconds:

Bated breath vs baited breath. Bated breath is a phrase that means to hold one’s breath due to suspense, trepidation or fear. Bated breath is a phrase first mentioned in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. The word bated is an abbreviation of the word abated, meaning to lessen in severity or amount.

Who knew that bated was short for abated? Maybe everyone but me. Shouldn’t it be shown with an apostrophebated, to indicate it’s been abbreviated?

At any rate, I changed my text to show that Quentin Tarantino was most likely waiting with bated breath for my approval. Now I just need to find a way to use baited breath. How about, “Simon was the consummate fisherman. He always had the best results after eating worms for breakfast. It seems the bass were fond of his baited breath.”

But Pinterest had a better one.

Technology is good.

Peace, people.

Seeds

I am the flower

Picked fresh on a summer’s morn

Drops of dew glisten

You are the ripe fruit

Harvested ‘neath autumn’s moon

Full-bodied and crisp

We are the slim seeds

Laid to rest with promises

Of life beyond soil

I was listening to tales of Woodstock on the radio this morning while running errands around Tallahassee. This summer marks the 50th anniversary of the famed music festival. I’d tell you I was there, but that would be a lie. I was only 12, and my taste in music was pretty bland.

At any rate my poem was inspired by Joni Mitchell (who wasn’t at Woodstock either) and her song, “We Are Stardust.”

https://youtu.be/cRjQCvfcXn0

Peace, people.

Sunday, Lazy Sunday

Studly Doright played in a two-day golf tournament this past weekend, so I was pretty much on my own both Saturday and Sunday. I didn’t do much other than running errands and doing laundry.

On Sunday I took myself to lunch at my favorite little vegan spot, the Sweet Pea Cafe, where I enjoyed French toast with slices of bananas and strawberries, home fries, and grits. Normally I don’t care for grits, but these were primo.

Someone in the cafe was enjoying a mimosa, so after I finished my meal I decided to stay and sip on one while reading a book. Mmmm. So good. I took my time with the drink then drove home to Doright Manor where I promptly planted my butt on the sofa and proceeded to nap for the rest of the afternoon. I’m blaming the mimosa. I’m also thanking it.

Peace, people.

Thoughts on “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood”

Just between you and me, I’m the last person you want writing a review. My head is easily turned by attractive faces, and this film has plenty of those. But, with the exception of Margot Robbie’s portrayal of Sharon Tate, most of the pretty people are viewed through a layer of grit.

Undoubtedly, though, Brad Pitt, as rough and tumble stunt double, Cliff Booth, is still so handsome that he makes me stutter when asking Studly Doright for some, “p-p-popc-c-corn.” And Leonardo DiCaprio manages to retain his boyish good looks underneath the seedy B actor character, Rick Dalton.

So, as you can see, these three make it impossible for me to provide an unbiased review of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. I can provide you with some vaguely coherent thoughts, though.

  • Brad Pitt’s performance is perfection. As pretty as he is, heaven knows he could’ve “phoned in” a few performances in his career, but he always seems to bring his A+ game. Okay, maybe his prettiness got to me, but if you’ve seen the movie, let me know what you think.
  • Typical Quentin Tarantino film–could’ve been thirty minutes shorter with no problem. Having said that, he’s a storyteller, and I appreciate that.
  • Parts of the film are graphically violent. Again, Typical Tarantino.
  • I knew Dakota Fanning was in the film, but could never figure out who she was. After I googled the cast this morning and discovered which role she played, I was blown away. She was chillingly low key.
  • I didn’t want to see this film, but have to admit to liking it anyway. Studly Doright is now crowing, “I told you so!”
  • Having read everything I could get my hands on about the Manson family and the Tate-LaBianca murders as a teenager, I was curious to see how the reality of the actual events would play out in this work of fiction.
  • In reference to my last comment–Liberties were taken. I approve. Yes, I’m sure Mr. Tarantino was waiting with bated breath for my thumbs up on the film.
  • The soundtrack is groovy. I dig the Mamas and the Papas….
  • Luke Perry was in this film. I cried a bit when I realized it had to have been his final role before he suffered a stroke earlier this year.
  • Lots of stars playing bit parts. That always makes me smile.
  • I wouldn’t mind seeing this movie again, especially since I had to take a bathroom break during one scene that turned out to have some impact on the ending.
  • The actress, Rachel Redleaf, who played Mama Cass Elliott never uttered a line, but sure channeled the essence of perhaps the greatest rock voice of my youth.

I have more thoughts, but they’re becoming less coherent as I go. One suggestion, though. Don’t see Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and then go to bed without letting it drift away a bit. My dreams were full of weird 60’s type imagery, and no, I don’t do acid.

Peace, people.

Gentle on My Mind

I think I’ve written about ear worms before. Those pesky tunes that get stuck in your head and play over and over on a loop until you think perhaps you’ll go crazy. Welcome to my world in which the song replaying in my head is Glen Campbell’s version of “Gentle on My Mind.”

https://www.facebook.com/countrymusicamerica/videos/1510129159048531?sfns=mo

Odd choice, right? It has no discernible chorus, and beyond the title phrase there’s no repetition. I haven’t exactly memorized the lyrics, yet still they run through my head like puppies at play.

I guess I’d better study the lyrics. There might be a Gentle on My Mind emergency one of these days. One never knows.

“Gentle on My Mind” Songwriter: John Hartford

It’s knowin’ that your door is always open

And your path is free to walk

That makes me tend to leave my sleepin’ bag

Rolled up and stashed behind your couch

And it’s knowin’ I’m not shackled

By forgotten words and bonds

And the ink stains that have dried upon some line

That keeps you in the back roads

By the rivers of my memory

That keeps you ever gentle on my mind

It’s not clingin’ to the rocks and ivy

Planted on their columns now that bind me

Or something that somebody said because

They thought we fit together walkin’

It’s just knowing that the world

Will not be cursing or forgiving

When I walk along some railroad track and find

That you’re movin’ on the back roads

By the rivers of my memory

And for hours you’re just gentle on my mind

Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines

And the junkyards and the highways come between us

And some other woman’s cryin’ to her mother

‘Cause she turned and I was gone

I still might run in silence

Tears of joy might stain my face

And the summer sun might burn me till I’m blind

But not to where I cannot see

You walkin’ on the back roads

By the rivers flowin’ gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin’ cracklin’ cauldron

In some train yard

My beard a rustlin’ coal pile

And a dirty hat pulled low across my face

Through cupped hands ’round a tin can

I pretend to hold you to my breast and find

That you’re waitin’ from the back roads

By the rivers of my memory

Ever smilin’, ever gentle on my mind

Peace, people.

Revisiting My First Post on WordPress

I remember being scared to push the publish button, perhaps with good reason. At any rate, for better or worse, here’s the first piece I ever published on WordPress. I’d like to think I’ve come a long way, baby, but honestly, I’m still a mess.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2014/07/10/praying-for-eyebrowz-begin-the-beguine/

Snapshot #263

I’m calling this one, featuring my handsome son, on the left, and two of his handsome cousins Russ (middle), and Brad (right), Tres Hombres Muy Guapos.

That either translates to Three Very Handsome Men or My Taco Needs More Guacamole. Either way, it works.

I took the photo at the Noyes Family Reunion in Hereford, Texas, last weekend.

Peace, people.