Everyone come home;
Home to our sweet Mother Earth.
She craves attention.
She nurtures us all
Gives without thought for her self
As all mothers do.
Happy Earth Day. Do something nice for our mother today.
Author: nananoyz
I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats.
Link in the Chain
My link looks very much like the
Links on either side. Weld line
Slightly off-center, but solid;
Strong. Meant to hold fast when
All else fails. The weakest link is
Still much stronger than no link.
Human-forged or machine-made,
Iron, steel, gold, silver, brass,
Shared responsibility. 
Marking Time
I. I’m good at that stuff
Marking time like a pro, so
Watch me do nothing.
II. Count on someone else
To worry with the schedule
I’ll be marking time.
III. Who might benefit
From time marked yet unwasted?
Lizards, cats, and me.
Peace, people!
Crazy Cat
Zip into the kitchen
Stare at your bowl
Meow for a treat
Stretch!
Tear into the living room
Skid on the tile
Take an urgent bath
Spot your tail
Make a run for it
Around and around
Stop and scratch
Behind your ear
Take another bath
Find the highest point
Make the leap
Pace lion-like above the fray
Before jumping from
Counter to floor
Attack your sister
Act alarmed at her hisses
Raise a paw to ward her off
Take another bath
Collapse on the rug
Sleep.
Our cat Patches is an odd mixture of paranoia and sweetness. She’s sure that every thing and everyone is out to get her, but she is convinced that I am her Mama. It’s a pretty cool gig.
Peace, people.
Bourbon Ball Recipe
Dang these sound good! Reblogged from shirleysheaven.wordpress.com.
The Men of Hobbitenango
Enjoy this video of my nephew, Beto and his business partner, Dan. Then start thinking about a trip to Hobbitenango!
Thunderstorm
Out in west Texas
On the wide open prairie
Thunderstorms are fierce.
From miles far away
One can observe their approach
Exhilarating!
But in Florida
Surrounded by lush forest
Lightning surprises.
Rains pound all around
Drumming in relentless force
Crashing thunder booms.
There is no telling
When the next crack will occur
Heart stopping each time.
Blurry photo of a medium sized turtle. I spoke to him and he scurried back to the safety of the forest.
Third World?
I. Third World you might say,
Or developing country
Depends on viewpoint.
II. Looking at my world
With fresh eyes and open heart
What might our guests see?
III. Our ruins are fresh
Compared with Antigua’s own;
Centuries apart.
IV. Yet ruins abound
And for many life is hard.
Poverty lays claim.
V. Third World existence
Among First World convenience
Which is most honest?
Spring is in the Air
It must be spring because…
I feel the need to clean something–anything, but preferably something that isn’t too dirty.
My allergies are more active than my bladder. (I’m a post-menopausal woman, so that’s saying a lot.)
Creative urges are tugging at my heartstrings. I picked up a knitting instruction manual, yarn, and two art prints at the farmer’s market this morning.
I’m actually going to organize at least one closet this week. Maybe.
Love is in the air. Love of napping, that is.
Golf.
Songbirds are busy competing for mates.
Studly made three trips to Lowe’s in one afternoon.
Rainy days abound.
Winter clothes get put away. Of course, in Florida that means I’ve traded my capris and tees for shorts and tanks.
Teachers begin seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Much drinking is done.
Flowers don’t bloom for us
Bird songs aren’t meant for our ears,
But isn’t it lovely that we benefit
From the beauty of nature’s ways?
How do we return the favor?
Nourishment, care, and yes,
Appreciation for the gifts we’re given.
Worrywart
Worrywart, worrywart
When will you learn?
Worry does nothing
But lead to heartburn.
Worrywart, worrywart
Will you stop, I wonder?
Perhaps someday when
I’m six feet under.
I spent quite a chunk of the past 48 hours worried that my son and daughter-in-law hadn’t made it safely home from Guatemala. They’d stayed to hike one of the volcanoes, and instead of flying home to the U.S. on Sunday with the rest of the family, they had plans to fly out on Wednesday.
The last message received was a Facebook post saying they were enjoying a final meal in Antigua on Tuesday night. Then nothing. So last night I began texting. Nothing. This morning I began calling. Nothing.
I have a vivid imagination. Women with vivid imaginations should never be left alone for too long. Here’s one of the many scenarios I imagined:
Following that final Facebook post my son was knocked senseless in trying to thwart a kidnapping attempt on his wife. The kidnappers had my daughter-in-law and had taken my son’s phone, identification, passport, and all of his money. When he awakened he had amnesia and was wandering around Antigua begging for spare change.
I called the airline and learned that the couple had boarded their flight. Of course then I wondered if perhaps someone had stolen their passports and flown home in their stead.
There was no rest for me until my daughter-in-law’s sister sent a message saying the couple had returned and were thoroughly buried under piles of makeup work.
Now my imagination is working on ways to torture my son for not getting in contact with me. Let’s see, thumb screws ought to do the trick.
Peace, People
Praying for Eyebrowz 