I wrote this nearly a year ago. It’s one of my favorites. Be sure to click on the link.
She sat on the tailgate of an old green Ford, her narrow denim clad hips wedged between an Igloo cooler and a box of faded red rags. Old scuffed boots swinging. The whoop whoop of a siren heralded …
Source: Parade
mother of us all
we give thanks for your shelter
forgive our neglect.
A trending news story right now is a tragic one, as most seem to be these days. In Cincinnati, a 4-year old boy fell into a gorilla enclosure at the zoo, and after being dragged around by the 400-pound gorilla for 10 minutes, the zoo made the decision to shoot and kill him. The gorilla, not the child. Much to the general public’s dismay, apparently.
It is a horrible situation, but even more upsetting to me is the public outlash that has taken place since the incident happened. People across the world (and my Facebook newsfeed) are commenting, posting, tweeting, and using any social media platform available to post their disgust. Many are saying things like, “they should have let the boy die, it would teach a lesson to that mother who let him go into the enclosure. It wasn’t the gorilla’s fault.” Some are choosing less blatant remarks and are instead posting memes or sharing…
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So true.
Ten thousand small swings
Til the count was lost to us
One time will be last
_______________
In response to The Daily Post: Countless
You cannot see the rain in this photo, only the shade and shadows and sunshine. But
Mellow thunder echoes through the evening and the soft patter of raindrops
Provides a counterpoint to percussion, a lyric-less melody until a feathered soprano
Joins her voice, confused at the juxtaposition of sunshine and thunder and
Raindrops.
Looks really good!
The gorgeous covers of these books are reason enough to read the series. But thankfully, the story inside more than lives up to them. The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica is a complex and gripping seven book series that will immerse you in worlds you only dreamt of until now. Oh, and dragons. LOTS of dragons.
On a rainy night in London in 1917, John, Jack, and Charles are brought together by the death of Professor Sigurdsson. He was the Caretaker of the Imaginarium Geographica, the atlas of every mythological and legendary land known. A strange little man named Bert, a traveler, tells the three that the Professor’s work is now passed onto them. He tells them of the mythical lands that exist in the Archipelago of Dreams that can only be reached by the Caretakers, aboard a Dragonship.
But now that they have accepted the role of Caretakers…
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I’m reblogging this in honor of Jackson’s 10th birthday. What a terrific grandson he is, and a true Lumber Jack.
There once was a legendary lumber man. The greatest man to ever wield an axe. This man’s name was Jackson.
Jackson was no ordinary boy. Born with an axe in his hand, he used a chainsaw as a rattle and cut his teeth on a big old knotty pine. He learned to climb a tree before he could walk, and he could beat any grown man at log rolling before his first birthday. When he was nine he could grow a full beard, so he left home and headed out to make his fortune.
“Bye Ma! Bye Pa!” Jackson called as he headed out with just his saw and his axe.
“Goodbye, son!” said his Ma.
“Make us all proud,” said his Pa.
Now even with his skills those first months on his own were not without peril. Once, Jackson came across a mountain lion fighting a grizzly bear. Mid-fight…
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Several of our neighbors have caught sight of a good sized male alligator sunning himself on the grassy bank near our home. Others have heard his mating call.
I thought I had, as well, but when I imitated the call for Studly Doright he told me I’d heard a bullfrog. I hope never to meet that particular bullfrog if it makes the sound I heard:
AAROOO! AAROOO!
In Africa there is a species of giant bullfrogs, with a face only a mother could love.
Since Doright Manor isn’t in Africa, I’m fairly certain this isn’t the critter that AAROOO-ED at me.
The neighbors are of two minds as to how to deal with gators on our little lake. Some want them relocated while others say let them be. I tend to side with the second camp.
Typically a gator won’t attack a human being, but they aren’t opposed to snacking on family pets.
Lovely words by scottishmomus.wordpress.com.
you’re younger yet and life holds full its promise
and I would not deny you all its claims
nor ever harness hopes or all that they hold
nor ever seek to squash the fire that calls your name
and I would not withhold from you each wishbone
that comes your way, upon which you may dream
nor burden you with harsher truths that years taught
I’d never blot the landscape of young life or all it seems
I have no aspirations to encumber the joy you know
for I, too, once believed the dreams you cherish and you hold
I once believed that all I sought was there for ripest taking
if I were, like you, courageous and so bold
I’d never take away your youth nor hope diminish
by word or deed, the dreams we share, though altered, still unchanged
I cannot be the one who says the no…
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Praying for Eyebrowz 