Baby, you know what I want…
…I want to eat fried chicken and potato salad without worrying about gaining a pound. That’s it. I got a whiff of a stranger’s fried chicken meal yesterday and now that’s all I can think about.
My goal is to lose ten more pounds before we leave for Ireland’s fair shores in June, though, so I’ll have to settle for the next best thing to fried chicken: Gary Larson’s Far Side chicken.
I’m still hungry for fried chicken.
Peace, people.
My exact thoughts on this Syrian missile strike. Read more at alotfromlydia.wordpress.com.
CNN has called Donald Trump “presidential” in the wake of his cruise missile attack on Syria. Fareed Zachariah, on CNN’s “New Day” said on Friday: “I think Donald Trump became president of the United States last night, I think this was actually a big moment.”
FOX called the missile strike a “success”, and other FOX headlines read: “Russia Condemns Attack”, and ” A Russian Battle Ship heads Toward Navy Destroyers that Launched Attack”.
How easily manipulated is the press? Very. This missile strike was orchestrated to for theatrics. It was an intentionally ineffectual empty political gesture that left: a cafeteria damaged, a training unit damaged, fueling units damaged, minimal damage to 6 already damaged airplanes. The main airstrip remains intact, (as shown below), and troops were mercifully left uninjured, thanks to receiving advance notice of the attack from Donald Trump.
This reporting of the missile attack is propaganda spoonfed…
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These photos are gorgeous! Follow inesemjphotography.com!
There might be some truth in that Carriganore myth about the hidden treasures because the end of the rainbow is right there by the river bank. We leave the rainbow behind and resume our walk to Kilmeadan station.
River Suir makes a sharp bend. The pink froth you see among the trees on the other side of the bend are Magnolias from the Mount Congreve gardens, in some 15 minutes walk from here.
But first we walk through the Magic Wood where Fairies and Leprechauns live happily together 🙂
There is a whole city in the trees with lovely little houses, ladders and bridges. It is well hidden in the summer but now the fairies are in the open, and have to pretend that they are not real, otherwise the passers-by will annoy them with questions. I would advise you to make a wish as you pass by without disturbing…
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This is a reblogging of a post about Arnold Palmer. I’m watching the Masters Tournament and sobbing at the tributes.
As I listened to one celebrity after another pay tribute to the recently deceased golfer, Arnold Palmer, yesterday afternoon, I recalled my own brief encounter with this legend of the links.
For Christmas one year I’d purchased club house passes for Studly Doright and my dad to Arnie’s Bay Hill tournament in Orlando, FL. We lived in Melbourne, FL, at the time, so we were only an hour away from the course. I have to confess that when I purchased the tickets a part of me was secretly hoping that I’d get to attend at least one day of the tournament. As it happened I ended up using the passes more than Studly and Daddy did.
Now, I’m not a golfer. I’m the furthest thing from a golfer anyone could possibly imagine. But I grew up watching the great golfers on television with my dad, and Arnold Palmer almost seemed…
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A few months ago I posted a whimsical piece about the thoughts I entertained while picking up a marble with my toes. (Link below, if you’re interested.) The exercise eventually helped reform my wayward middle metatarsal, and I dispensed with the activity.
Recently, though, my metatarsal began behaving badly again. When I went to find my marble it was gone. I truly had lost my marble. I looked high and low, mumbling to myself like some sort of mad woman. The cats, who I suspect of having had something to do with my marble’s disappearance watched me warily as I dove into drawers, cast shoes about the closet, and peered into dark corners and between chair cushions. Alas, no marble.
So when I spied a jar of marbles at a shop in Apalachicola with the sign, “Marbles: 30 for $1.00,” I grabbed a couple of greenies and took them to the checkout counter.
“Only two?” The proprietor asked.
“Yes sir, you see I lost my marble and I’m looking for a replacement. The second one’s insurance.”
“In that case, no charge,” he said. “Never let it be said that I deprived a woman of her marbles.”
Call me crazy, but I think he just wanted me out of his store.
https://nananoyz5forme.com/2016/10/13/thoughts-while-picking-up-a-marble-with-my-toes/
I’m trying to finish a project (alright, a nap), when Patches inserted herself into the scenario, insisting that I rise from my comfortable spot and get her a treat. I call this one, “Can You Hear Me Meow?”
Everyone knows the dark places, those that linger on the edge of consciousness like a Neil Young song.
Down by the River, why’d you shoot your baby? Did you go into that dark place and become so
Disoriented that there was no return? I watched myself in a mirror once. Got lost in my own eyes,
And almost drowned in a river of madness before clawing my way back to the other side.
But no one even knew I’d ventured over. I washed my hands and splashed water on my face
Before going to prepare a simple beef casserole for dinner. The onions made my eyes water.
Another photo from my walk around Lake Ella in Tallahassee. I think a fitting title would be, “A Confederacy of Turtles.”
On Sunday evening, Doright Manor took a direct lightning strike, frying both of our television sets, along with our washing machine, and Studly Doright’s elliptical exercise machine. The blinding flash of lightning and the simultaneous explosion of a deafening clap of thunder didn’t do much for my blood pressure, either.
We’d been in bed for only a few minutes when the strike came. Of course Studly was already snoring in that annoying way he has of dropping off to sleep the second his head hits the pillow, and true to form, I was reading. Our eldest cat, Scout, who is generally unperturbed by storms began meowing frantically just before the KABOOM! I should’ve known something big was about to happen.
Oddly enough we never lost electricity, but we are without television and Internet until service providers can make the trip out here. And if I want to do laundry before next Wednesday I’ll have to head to a laundromat. Strike that. I’ll GET to go to a laundromat. I’m awfully fond of them, you know. Best people watching in the world happens at laundromats.
Oh, about Studly’s elliptical machine…I’m lobbying to just chuck it. I kept thinking I’d write a post about the way its hulking presence in our den/kitchen area has marred the feng shui of my otherwise peaceful existence. Now it appears there was karmic redemption. Bwahaha!
Peace, people.
Read more at redswrap.wordpress.com. Moved me to fresh tears.
The only true sunlight came late today. And it lasted only minutes.
I tried to shake off last night’s news but the images of limp, choking babies being hosed down by the adults trying to save their lives stuck with me. The babies were like toys in the news, ornaments for commentary otherwise preoccupied by lies. The babies aren’t lies. They are real.
But they are other people’s babies. It’s important to remember that. It wasn’t our babies who were gassed.
Our babies were shot, mowed down by a man with an assault rifle while they were at school, safe with their teachers.
Last night, we watched as a favorite female news commentator nearly teared up after the film of injured and murdered Syrian children ran.
“She’s really upset,” I said to my husband.
“She has children,” he answered.
Yes, I thought to myself. She has children. Probably around the…
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Praying for Eyebrowz 