Category: Commentary

A Badling of Ducks?

Last week I posted a poem about a flock of ducks in response to my sister-in-law, Lyn, referring to them as a herd. (Complete post below) 

As it turns out there are a great many names for a group of ducks. Thanks to my friend Derrick whose wonderful blog can be found at https://derrickjknight.com I’ve discovered several new duck designations. Derrick pointed out

  
And his comment led me to google:

  
I especially like “badelynge” so I’ve changed my poem: 

                  “A Herd of Ducks”

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.

Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 

Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed

Don’t they ken we’re a badelynge? Drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

Here’s the original post:

My sister-in-law, Lyn, and her husband, Mike, are staying the weekend at Baron’s Creekside near Fredricksburg, Texas. Their accommodation is a quaintly furnished cabin on a quiet lake. 
This morning, Lyn posted, 

  
  

And these photos:

  
   My contribution follows:

                   “A Herd of Ducks”

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.
Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 
Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed

Don’t they ken we’re a flock? The drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

At a Loss for Words

I turned to Studly Doright a few minutes ago and said, “I’ve got nothing. No blog ideas. No inspiration.”

He grunted. So here’s a post about grunts.

     “Grunting Muse”

Honey can you help me?

Ungh?

I need an idea now.

Mmmph.

Anything on your mind?

Hunh?

Something with some zow?

Ergh!

You’ve been so very helpful!

Whuh?

With all your clever sounds.

Hmmm!

My muse you’ve been, as usual.

Shhsh!

Your wisdom knows no bounds.

Harrumph

Peace, people!

Herd of Ducks

My sister-in-law, Lyn, and her husband, Mike, are staying the weekend at Baron’s Creekside near Fredricksburg, Texas. Their accommodation is a quaintly furnished cabin on a quiet lake. 

This morning, Lyn posted, 
  
And these photos:

  
My contribution follows:

                   “A Herd of Ducks”

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.

Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 
Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed
Don’t they ken we’re a flock? The drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

Question for the Aged 

A friend posted this meme on his Facebook page today and jokingly quipped, “My wife.”  
But being the deep thinker that I am, instead of quickly responding with something like “my vintage Huey Lewis concert tshirt which doubles as my favorite nightgown” I thought I’d turn the question into a blog post.

 

Huey Lewis. I sleep with him, you know.
 
I have a lot of old stuff. Probably the oldest is a bedroom suite that I inherited from my maternal grandmother, my beloved Nannie Grace. It was an antique when she bought it, but she went one step further and antiqued the antique. Sigh. Apparently it was a popular thing to do in the 60’s and 70’s.

   
 I’ve considered having her antiquing process undone and the furniture restored to its original mahogany, but one restorer explained to me that the paint Nannie Grace applied is probably the only thing holding it together at this point.

It’s still a beautiful set, and I’d estimate it at possibly 145 years of age.

There’s also this piece from Nannie Grace

  
And this poor old clock that was my Daddy’s:

  
But my favorite old thing is my side saddle.

  
My maternal grandfather, Grandaddy Carl P., bought this saddle when I was very young. He promised it would be mine someday and here it is. Like Grandaddy, though, I really don’t have anywhere to display it. He kept it in his workshop and Studly always gives me space in the garage for this sentimental piece. It deserves better, so if anyone has a suggestion for how I might incorporate it into my decor I’m more than willing to listen. 

What’s the oldest thing in your house? Why do you have it and what does it mean to you? Inquiring minds want to know.

Peace, people!

What Next, Oh Trump? (A top ten list)

  
Every day brings a new look into this man’s character, or lack thereof. Today Trump ejected a crying baby from a venue. A baby, for heaven’s sake! Aren’t politicians supposed to love babies?

In the spirit of a David Letterman Top Ten routine, let’s break down the top ten actual reasons Trump might have had a baby shown to the exit:

10. The baby’s hands were larger than Trump’s.

9. Putin called and demanded the baby be ejected immediately.

8. Trump was afraid the baby was demanding the release of his tax returns. 

7. Baby’s cries of “Waaa! Waaa!” easily mistaken for “Wall! Wall!” and Trump still has no idea how to get one built.

6. Trump had a huuuuge headache and the baby was getting on his last nerve.

5. The baby’s basic understanding of the U.S. Constitution greatly exceeded Trump’s.

4. Because women are having babies and some of them grow up to be murderers, some grow up to be rapists, and some, he assumes grow up to be good people. The odds weren’t in this baby’s favor.

3. The baby appeared to be rigged in favor of the Democrats.

2.  Firing the baby wasn’t an option.

And the number one reason Trump had this baby booted from the event:

Baby might have ties to the Muslim Brotherhood.

That’s Not What I Meant to Say

Forgive me, but my language might get a little graphic here. Saint Helen, don’t read this one, or if you do, read it with your eyes closed.

I engaged in a verbal battle with a Trump supporter on Facebook. I would have ignored him, but he called Hillary the “c” word, and I don’t mean “Clinton.” My intention was to call him “An asshole with typing capabilities” but autocorrect kept changing it to “ashore.” 

The sentence, “apparently you’re an ashore with typing capabilities” isn’t witty repartee. Heck, it doesn’t even make sense. I finally gave up and told him to piss off,  which Autocorrect changed immediately to “pus” off. And that’s just gross.

While I’m speaking of autocorrect, has anyone besides me ever noticed that when you’ve mistyped a word and replacement options are given often they don’t even vaguely resemble the word you had in mind? I once was offered the word “Illinois” when trying to type “loving” in a poem. Granted, I’d gotten the word started with an i instead of an l, but in what context does “His Illinois arms” make sense?

Ok, I feel better now. I’m going to go give that Facebook troll a pizza of my mind. 

  

The Sound of Silence aka The Grandkids are Gone

For almost two weeks we entertained two of our five grandchildren here at Doright Manor. It was the first time Dominique and Jackson have been alone with us for that length of time, and heading into the first week I felt some trepidation.

Would they get bored? Would I be patient with them? Could I train them to cook and clean like small indentured servants? 

As they prepared to leave on Saturday morning I asked them each if they’d had fun, and the answer was a resounding “Yes!”

They rode motorcycles.

  
Fished:


   
Helped Poppa with yard work:

 

Visited Poppa at the office:
 

Chopped down saplings:  
 

Created bird feeders:
   
Rode crazy rides at Wild Adventures:

    
  

That blur is Jackson.
  
   

Rode motorcycles again:  
Enjoyed Japanese stir fry:

 
Helped Poppa and me build a fairy house:

   
    
    
    
Created paracord bracelets for every member of the family:

    
And climbed trees.

 They also rode go karts at a local arcade, but the resident documentarian (me) came down with a nasty head cold and stayed at home for that adventure.

Apparently there was no boredom involved. I never even came close to losing my patience–a true miracle. However, the plan to have the kids take over the cooking and cleaning was for naught. Two out of three works for me. 

Now to enjoy the sound of silence. 

  
 Peace, people!

One Ring to Rule Them All

My precious!

 
I must have been a much better wife than I imagined! Thank you Studly Doright!

Manipulation

turn the key
speak the words
play the patriot card
make America great? again?
terrorize our collective psyche
make us fear
make us dread
make us suspect
anyone who looks
anyone who worships
anyone who loves
differently.
fish do not ken
that they are wet.
easily led
easily fooled
easily angered.
let me tell you
you are drenched.

Hillary for President

  
A couple of days ago I posted the following essay on my Facebook page. As essays go, I’ve written better, but several friends asked me to share my thoughts with a wider audience. So, here you go. 

I’m a Liberal. I haven’t always been. In fact, I once was a staunch Republican. I voted for both Bushes, Poppa and W. 

I did not support Bill Clinton, but, I was always impressed by Hillary. Her fight for health care reform sparked something in me. You see, I’d always been fortunate to have access to good insurance through my husband’s job–until his job was “excessed” during the deregulation of the natural gas industry and we found ourselves at the mercy of a health care system that doesn’t value those on the fringes. 

Now, I wasn’t ready to leave the GOP then, but I was beginning to notice the blatant inequities between the “haves” and the “have nots.” While my family had never been wealthy, until those bleak days when we didn’t have access to good insurance, I’d never had to worry about falling ill and losing everything we’d worked for. Still, I believed I could work within the party to fight for women’s rights, for equal pay, for health care reform.

Sadly, it took Sarah Palin for me to see what a backwards institution the GOP had become. Not all Republicans believed the stupid things she spouted, but enough that I became certain that I could find a better party in which to place my trust. 

I voted for President Obama in 2008 and I’ll never regret that decision, even though I suffered heart palpitations while doing so. I voted for him proudly in 2012, convinced that he was the best man for the job, and he has never let me down.

Now, on the verge of the Democratic Party nominating the first female candidate for the highest office in the land, I’m so very proud to say I’m a Hillary supporter. I cannot believe that the party I once supported has devolved into one that embraces racism and hate, but the GOP’s nomination of Donald Trump has proven that to be true. Trump will not make America great. He only knows how to make Americans hate.

This is me, and I approve this message.

Peace, people.