Sitting slyly perched within
The silver strands stretched tightly
I’ve woven this silk for you, my love
Come lounge here with me nightly
Your gossamer threads cannot hold
Your liquid words won’t bind
I’ll sit with you for just a spell
Then leave your web behind
Of course, she whispered soothingly
Here, rest in my embrace
Through half closed eyes he watched
As she moored him to her place.
A worthy premise!
I was fortunate to have attended kindergarten in the days before it was made mandatory. I’m sure Mrs. Parks, the owner and sole teacher of the school followed a curriculum, but I don’t remember it being a rigorous course of instruction.
My fellow classmates and I played and sang and created small works of art, while learning about the letters of the alphabet and how to count. A few children in the class learned to read that year. I wasn’t one of those children, but I used to tell people that I was. Nothing was forced as kindergarten learning seems to be nowadays.
At the end of that precious year Mrs. Parks directed us in a play to mark our graduation. One of my Floydada friends posted the picture of our class on Facebook this weekend. Weren’t we adorable?
That’s me on the back row. I’m the tall brown haired girl in the pink dress next to the headdress wearing brave and behind the tiny little doll in yellow.
I can still name all but two of my former classmates from the picture. Floydada is a small Texas town and I went to school with most of those pictured until my family moved to Dumas the summer before my senior year of high school. That was a tough move. I thought my world had ended, when it really was just beginning.
There’s really no message in this post, but our youngest granddaughter started kindergarten this year at a small school in Illinois, and I hope her memories of her year will someday be as sweet to her as mine are to me.
This is Harper on Ag day, which she preferred calling “Egg Day.” She’s a great deal sassier than I ever was. Heaven help us all.
Peace, people.
Okay, I promised no more posts about Hurricane Irma, but that was before I had to go help Studly Doright clean up after her. Don’t you just detest having guests who wreck the place?
She sheared off one of our smaller oak trees, so Studly set off with his trusty chain saw to cut the tree into pieces small enough to suit our trash pickup guys.
We loaded everything into our little trailer and I delivered the branches to the curb area. We don’t actually have curbs out here, but if we did that’s where the processed branches would be.
We left the small stump. It looks like a potential home for fairies to me.
We really are fortunate that more trees weren’t lost during Irma’s visit. She wasn’t a great houseguest, but she could’ve been much worse.
Peace, people.
I loved this story. I think you will, too. Read more at unbolt.me.
1.
Let me make things clear right from the get-go. I’m not a believer.
I don’t believe in supernatural geezers with unkempt beards and such, even though I deeply respect religious liberty. Even if you’re a passionate parishioner of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and wear a colander instead of a hat, I promise that as long as you don’t try to hang spaghetti from my ears, I’m completely tolerant.
Well… actually, I don’t know why I started with this declaration. I wanted to tell you something quite different. I wanted to tell you about Eugene.
2.
I noticed him when I was going to my yoga class. I normally wouldn’t have paid attention to yet another beggar on the street if he hadn’t been busy with a pretty unusual thing.
Now, you could say, “Tati, what’s so unusual about needlework? Embroidery is no big deal.” Yes…
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I had to get some extra keys made for Doright Manor yesterday, so I drove over to Home Depot in Tallahassee. After paying for the keys I wandered in the direction of the garden section to dream about plants I could buy and eventually kill. I don’t exactly murder plants, but those in my care don’t have much of a chance at longevity.
Before I made it to the plants, though, I found this beauty.
It’s a double decker chicken coop, and the moment I saw it I fell in love with the idea of having a couple of chickens.
I’d name them Laverne and Shirley and I’d watch the pair strut around their little coop, clucking contentedly. I’d read to them excerpts from The Little Red Hen, and Chicken Little. I’d sing “The Farmer in the Dell,” and make up other songs featuring chickens. “Oh Chicken, My Chicken” comes to mind as a possible title. We’d be so happy in our bucolic paradise.
But reality set in and I knew I’d end up resenting Lavern and Shirley. They’d be dependent on me, insisting that I stay home and clean the coop when I wanted to go to a movie or for a spa day. Their once charming clucking would soon seem strident and accusatory.
“You never take us anywhere!” They’d complain. And they’d be right. Chickens just aren’t good shopping companions.
So I shook off the idea of chicken ownership and went on back to the plants. So, do I want to eventually kill a ficus or a rose bush? Decisions, decisions.
When up becomes down
Two wrongs might make something right
Topsy turvy world
Fake news could be true
According to the hucksters,
Else it’s all a ruse
Care to take a chance?
What’s behind door number one?
Pure propaganda
I wasn’t always Nana. Once upon a time I was plain old Leslie, occasionally “honey” or whatever endearment
Came immediately to Studly’s tongue. But by far, Nana is the best name I’ve ever been given. Fifteen years ago this week,
Nana was born when a beautiful, round faced baby girl was placed in my arms. Her wide blue eyes connected with my own
Amazed brown ones, and I have been forever changed. I might have once been ordinary, but now I am Nana.
Happy 15th birthday to our eldest grandchild, Dominique Grace. I meant to post this on Wednesday, but never changed the post from “draft” to “scheduled.”
Amazing what havoc one man can wreak. Read more at alotfromlydia.wordpress.com
Donald Trump has agreed to work with Democrats to save “Dreamers” —Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA, allowing 690k to stay in the US and continue working, studying, serving in the military.
No he didn’t…
but he has…
“We agreed to enshrine the protections of DACA into law quickly, and to work out a package of border security, excluding the wall, that’s acceptable to both sides,” ~ Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer and House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi
No he hasn’t…
“No deal has been made.” ~Donald Trump
Oh…what?
Umm you did until just now…
Donald Trump finally shook off his die hard supporters…this time by doing something humane.
What does Satans female counterpart think about all this?
Steve King, heartless Republican GOP rep, (redundant I know), is disillusioned by a Trump inconsistency. He hasn’t been paying attention, or he’s agreed with all the inconsistencies so far:
Sorry…
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Praying for Eyebrowz 