“Wise One”
by Leslie Noyes
Speak to me in weighted words, of life and love and pain,
Grant me wisdom for the journey; sing to me your wise refrain.
Oh Artemis, sear through my soul, expose my every fear,
And I will soar past all who hinder, by your guidance steer.
Take flight and leave me desolate, a weakling in your wake,
Or remain and offer counsel while so much remains at stake.
Please check out Julie Powell’s blog at https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/
There’s something that prevents this video of frolicking Dolphins from being absolutely perfect, but for the life of me I just can’t put my finger on it….
Peace, people!
Last Saturday afternoon Studly Doright decided we needed to drive the convertible into Tallahassee for dinner at a local sports bar. The weather was perfect with temps in the mid-80’s and a smattering of towering cumulonimbus clouds off to the west.
We drove east bound down a series of two lane back roads all the way into Tallahassee enjoying the peaceful late summer ambience at a leisurely pace. No worries, no hurries.
I’m not a big fan of the sports bar we went to, so I won’t mention it by name. The service is terrible–I’ve never gotten what I’ve ordered on the first try–but the waitresses are earnest in their cluelessness. They’re also adorable, which I suspect is Studly’s reason for being a repeat customer.
On the way home the temps had dropped a bit and the clouds were more numerous. Studly and I both agreed it was an evening meant for driving around with the top down.
Don’t you think the cloud pictured below looks like a frog? See his little leg on the left?
We turned down Lanier Rd, a pleasant two lane that roughly parallels our neighborhood.
I’d planned on snapping a photo of the canopy formed by the live oaks on either side of Lanier, but as we approached the canopied section we noticed flashing lights.
A tree limb had fallen and was blocking the road.
Studly tried to convince the sheriff’s deputy that we had plenty of clearance to drive through. Fortunately the officer discouraged that. There was nothing to do but retrace our route and approach Doright Manor from another direction.
As we made a U-turn and drove away from the tree, Studly mentioned that we’d taken that very route to the restaurant. Thank goodness the tree waited for us to pass before dropping a limb.
Who knew that life in the slow lane could be hazardous?
Safely stabled. 
Peace, people!
He snores beside me,
deeply, but not too loud.
Maybe after three days of
fevered restlessness he has
Found some equilibrium.
Just outside our hotel
room, people frolic in the
Warm waters of the blue green
bay, while I play Words With
Friends on my iPhone.
A morning spent on the beach
alone, pretending to be a
Minor celebrity escaping
pursuit by rabid paparazzi
Proved far too lonely.
So I drank too much rum punch
before returning to the dark
Comfort of our air conditioned
suite where I slipped beneath
Cool sheets to be with him.
My precious!
I must have been a much better wife than I imagined! Thank you Studly Doright!
Married young
my high school love
nearly forty years ago
Romantic novels
formed expectations
of how our lives should go:
Every day a poem
written in honor of
my beauty and my style,
Long conversations
about my attributes
all to make me smile.
Instead I got
this grounded man
no poetry in his soul
Who works so hard
to care for me, my
well-being is his goal
And if that isn’t
poetry of a sort, I reckon
it should be
The poetry of keeping
one’s hands on the wheel for
his woman’s sake
The verse of tending
to her every physical need in
sickness and in health
Maybe this man is the
poet I longed for in days
long past
Or perhaps he’s the muse
who fills my pages with tales
enough to last.
Happy anniversary Studly!
I’m trying to come up with something for dinner that has no calories.
Tempting, but Studly Doright doesn’t like to hear me (or anyone else) crunch their food.
How about settling for LOW calorie instead of NO calorie:
I wonder if the fruit slices and garnish are figured in the caloric total, because I’m certainly going to eat those, as well.
If I could find a way to ungain the weight I’ve repeatedly lost over the years I’d be the skinny woman I know lives somewhere inside me.
She’s a noisy broad.
Here’s a riddle: If a domestic goddess has spent the morning doing laundry and ends up with a load of towels, washcloths, undies, and socks to be folded and subsequently put away, how many trips will it take her to complete the job?
Answer: (choose one)
A) 4 (one to load the washer, one to transfer load to the dryer, one to carry the items to a place for folding, one to carry the items to their storage place)
B) 25+ (one to load the washer, one to transfer the load, one to carry the items to a place of folding, 21+ roundtrips to put away items by category and/ or purpose.)
If you picked A, you don’t know this domestic goddess very well. B is the proper response. Why, you might ask, would anyone be dumb enough to operate with B as the template?
My Fitbit made me do it. 
July in Tallahassee, Florida, is hot as blue blazes and humid, to boot. Exercising outside is best done early in the morning or late in the evening. Since I slept until 8 a.m., I missed out on the prime walking time.
Studly Doright feels slighted if I go walking during the evening (besides, that’s when the creepy crawlies are about), so I had to find a way to get my steps in without leaving Doright Manor. Thus, I’ve become an inefficiency expert.
As the day progresses, I’ll make multiple trips from the laundry room to the master bedroom to hang clothes one at a time. If I leave the house I’ll gather shopping bags separately for individual trips to and from the car. At the grocery store I’ll determine the route that is least efficient, often crisscrossing the store a dozen times.
For me, this exercise routine is second nature. I’ve always done every task possible in the most illogical way, so capitalizing on this tendency is a win-win. Now, with my Fitbit I have a witness. And it has yet to scoff at my methods. I can’t say the same for Studly Doright.
Peace, people.
I’m not gay, bi, trans, or even curious, but I am an ally.
I’m not Black, but I wholly support Black Lives Matter.
I’m not an immigrant, but I am for fair treatment and compassion.
Not to diminish a single one of these, but I was beginning to feel I had no group. Now I do.
Well, I’m also a feminist, so there’s that.
Peace, people!
Studly Doright was out of town part of last week, so my meals were of the simple variety. Lean Cuisine and Smart Ones entrees were my go to dinners. 
^^^^My microwave and my oven. ^^^^
On my first night alone, I extracted a frozen Smart Ones vegetable lasagna from the freezer.
I preheated the oven to 375° to cook the lasagna, and set the timer for 45 minutes.
Off I went to sort laundry, play a bit of Words with Friends, and watch a Criminal Minds rerun.
After some time passed I noted there remained five minutes of cooking time, so I poured a glass of wine and prepared a small salad.
The timer sounded and I opened the oven door to remove my entree.
Nothing! I was puzzled.
Until I thought to look in the microwave.
Good thing I wasn’t terribly hungry.
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 