In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now in my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!
"Hello, Hazel here," said the happy-go-lucky hammerhead shark into her phone. "Winnie! How are you? What's happening?" "Is that Winnie? Is it true about her and Thomas?" called Davey from across the dressing room. She and her brothers Dicky and Danny swam over and hovered closely by. "Hopping high, you say. . .Huh, say that again? The Daffodils are being quite hyper right now. . . "We are not!" said Danny, splashing a bit huffily. "Shhh," Dicky said to his brother. "Hoooo Hooo Hoooo!" Hazel turned to the triplets. "Winnie and Thomas are getting hitched." "Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" Hard pounding knocks on the dressing room door hushed the performers. Through the door, they heard "Five minutes to show time!" "Winnie, we are so very happy for you!. . .Can you hear the Daffodils? They're all heedless with joy. . . Honey, the show is about to start. Let me call . . .Really? You w
What kind of hairy flower is that? Molly the Cat! There's no end to her delightfulness and cuteness and all wonderfulness. It's time for Our World Tuesday . Here's the link for you to check out participants from around the world, and maybe to join up yourself. Thanks, Our World Tuesday hosts!
Never kick a cow chip on a hot day. ~ Will Rogers Some people have to learn things on their own, no matter how wise or common sense the advice. Nothing wrong with that. They simply need to be ready to clean their shoes. Or, worse, throw them away. I wonder if Will Rogers actually kicked a cow chip on a hot day.
Today is the anniversary of the Daddy's spirit passing into the Heavens. I didn't realize that until I checked the calendar to write the date for a journal entry. Must've been why I didn't feel like getting up this morning. The Husband said, "You were dragging yourself down the hall." The memories are strong. Here are a few moments that I recall about the Daddy: Him handing my five-year-old self a pear that he picked from the orchard where we sat. It was the Daddy's smoke time. No matter where he was in the tomato field, where he kept watch of the water flow in the irrigation canals, far away or near by, he walked back to the car and sat with me until smoke time was over. The Daddy taking me to my first day of school, my first day of first grade, and my first day at my new school. Nothing was ever said between us that I can remember. I scurried beside and a little behind him swinging my lunchbox. He walked up to the teacher or the principal and conf
The Mexican lavender has popped back in the front yard. Hurrah! When the Daddy and the Mama bought their house a long time ago, it wasn't completely finished so the builders let us choose the colors for the rooms. I chose purple for my bedroom, my own four walls with a door. No more more sharing with the Only and Older Brother. That was a pretty good luxury for an almost 10-year-old and for the parents, too. So I think. In the end, the painters mixed up the Parents' and my choices. They got a muted purple bedroom, while I got a bright yellow one. Both the Mama and I were bummed, but we sucked it up. C'est la vie. It was just as well that I didn't get my choice. The color yellow, color experts say, is great for nurturing joyfulness and stimulating intelligence and mental somersaults (perfect for growing minds), while the color purple is good for promoting deep thoughts and spirituality. Once I moved into puberty, I became a rather surly, mopey girl too serious fo
Despite the cold temperatures and lack of rain, the first of the wildflower blooms have appeared in the front yard. This morning, Molly the Cat and I saw a cosmos (upper left corner), lupine (upper right corner), and California poppy (lower right corner). They're all volunteers from last year's plantings. Also presenting itself is the first freesia (lower left corner) of the season. Not sure, but I think they're from bulbs that got planted last fall. These flowers have a light fragrance. Mmmmmmmm.
Life is good. Yesterday my retirement check got deposited and our health insurance and car insurance premiums got paid. Today we went to Costco and splurged on beer, potato chips, pesto sauce, potstickers, toilet paper, and Brita filters. Oh my goodness, we even bought a carpet runner for the hallway. Am I being sarcastic? Facetious? I don't know anymore. The Husband and I are now in the category of retired seniors on limited income, so buying groceries at Costco today felt like a luxury. Going home, I found myself justifying the purchases by figuring how much we saved by buying in bulk. Going through life with the responsible happy-a-go-lucky Husband makes living less scary. I truly believe him when I ask him to tell me "Everything will be all right." The Husband thinks that people ought to eat well because it helps maintain good health. Why should we deprive ourselves of good health, regardless of our income, right? Yup. Life is good. At the moment the Husb
Note: That's the French pronunciation of Guy, said like ghee, a kind of clarified butter. That said, on with this week's tale for ABC Wednesday. * * * "Guy, you'll tear that guide yet," said Ghandi the Gamekeeper, glancing over at Guy A. Gator the Grill Chef, who was whipping not-so-gladly through Gator Cuisine . Ghandi laid a three of hearts down on his game of solitaire. Guy slapped his hand on a page so vehemently the gin-mill of a bar went silent for a glued second. Guy growled. Or, was it more of a groan? "Look at this!" Ghandi leaned over the gator's shoulder and read aloud, "The Greatest Gator Gumbo!" Ghandi grazed Guy's shoulder lightly and gingerly, so the big guy knew that the giraffe was in his corner. "Humans and their follies," said Ghandi. The two good friends raised their glasses in the air, took a long gulp of martini, gibbered, then sighed. "Today, a human wanted a special order of ga
See the rat (on the left) walking up the top of the hill? The Husband and I see faces and shapes in rocks, trees, and other inanimate objects. How about you? Scientists call this phenomenon of seeing things within things facial pareidolia. Some experts say that neurotic individuals are inclined to have this ability. Other experts claim that this condition is quite strong in religious people and those who believe in the supernatural. Leonardo da Vinci considered pareidolia as a tool that artists can use to visualize possible scenes to paint or draw. Carl Sagan thought that pareidolia was a form of survivor tool for individuals to recognize if approaching people are friendly or not. All interesting theories, don't you think? A tree full of trolls? What profile do you see: A person? An antelope? Sideshow Bob? I'm hooking up with Our World Tuesday . Here's the link for you to check out participants from around the world, and maybe to join up yourself. Th
I got to wondering: Are we so healthy that the doctors have nothing to do but administer medication for the flu? I find it curious that when we get the flu, our tendency is to see the doctor or go to the emergency room for an antidote to the virus. It used to be when we got the flu and saw the doctor, he would try not to scoff at us. "It's just the flu," he'd say. "Go home, get plenty of rest, drink lots of fluids, and cover your mouth, for gosh sake, when you cough or sneeze." Well, the doctor wouldn't forsake the gosh, or, if he did, at least not say it out loud." Same thing with the cold. I think the doctor would actually look at us with disdain, but he would've covered his scowl by puffing out cigarette smoke, if those old movies are to be believed that doctors smoked cigarettes while seeing their patients. The difference between having a cold and the flu? To me, the Husband is quite a lot more miserable when he has the flu. Over th
Today marks Molly the Cat's sixth anniversary with us. Yup, six years ago, Molly the Cat and I locked eyes as I walked towards the cat adoption fair in the pet store. She seemed to be daring me to choose her instead of old steady calm Pirate with the one eye. As Molly paced back and forth in her cage, glaring at me, I thought, "She looks like a handful." The Husband told me that when he first saw Molly, he thought, "That's a cutie." So it was me that Molly needed to convince to want to pick her up. I'm glad she did. I can't remember what it was like before Molly the Cat, Missy Molly by Golly, came into our lives. The first time Molly graced the blogosphere. These Humans let me sleep anywhere I want. That shed is no more. I loved sitting on its roof and sleeping under its eaves. Once I mark this, it's mine, whatever it is. Walking the fence was fun when I was a youngster. A hunting I shall go, a h
I've heard the Husband say at least twice how much he enjoyed his roast beef sandwich for breakfast this morning. I generally figure every morning that I'll be having a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast. Easy-peasy, you know. Some mornings I surprise the Husband and me by making a hot breakfast. I hadn't planned on it today but I started flipping through a cookbook because I decided to weed out the cookbook collection. After all how many cookbooks do I need when I'm not one to follow a recipe the way it's written? I didn't know I had a Costco cookbook (I wonder if I got it for free). It has lots of cool photos illustrating short and delicious-sounding recipes from big-time chefs such as Mary Esposito and Jamie Oliver. I found a recipe towards the end of the cookbook that inspired today's breakfast. Coincidentally, the Husband walked into the kitchen as the oven light bulb lit over my head. The poor Husband. I often, if not nearly almost, don't c
Happy Chinese New Year! Today is the first day of the Year of the Dog, a new year on the Chinese lunar calendar. The Dog is one of the 12 symbolic animals in the Chinese zodiac, meaning each animal-year comes up every 12 years. The rose is one of the lucky flowers for those born in the year of the Dog. Interestingly, 2018 is not such a lucky year for Dogs. Do you want to know more about the Year of the Dog, whether you're a Dog, the Chinese zodiac, or the Chinese lunar calendar? Here's one web page to check out.
“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America Travel with Charley: In Search of America is in one of my to-read book piles. It may be the next book I reach for, being that I'm curious to learn what John Steinbeck was seeking as he wandered about the country with his canine pal Charley in 1960. Steinbeck was traveling in the era to which the present administration seems to want to return. You know the "Make America Great Again". Myself, I would rather not return to the age when civil rights for all was not honored by those mean-spirited in power and those cowardly who sided with the powerful.
Filemon the Flying Squirrel fixed his goggles fairly on his face. He took a few deep breaths to steady his fraught nerves. Really, truly, he repeated to himself, he had nothing to fear. So said his friends Bingo and Bubba Byrd who sat beside him. "Filemon, flying is what you are about," said Bingo, patting his shoulder. What if it isn't?" fretted Filemon. "Dude, you're feeling first-time jitters," Bubba said. "I was awfully fidgety before my first flight. But when I took my first hop into flight, oh my folly golly jolly. I was all fat smiles. My wings flung widely. I floated in sunshine. It was fantastic, Filemon!" Filemon found himself feeling quite calm. "Filemon! Filemon! Filemon!" The flying squirrel searched the ground below for the source of the faint cries. There, near the shoreline were his friends jumping up and down on the beach and waving funny red signs. "Filemon!" cheered Agathe the Aardvark .
The other day I came across these photos of the Mama's front yard in 2010. Neat and proper, how the Mama loved her gardens and landscaping to be. A philosophy that differs from mine, which is essentially a higgledy-piggledy one, although you might say that there is order in chaos. It has been almost two years since I've taken over the Mama's gardens and landscaping. Flowers have gotten out of hand. The canna lilies, for example, were winning in their plot to take over the front garden so I dug out most of the bulbs and transplanted many elsewhere last month. The Mama's rosemary bushes, on the other hand, are getting straggly in a way that I wonder if they may be on their last legs. The Mama's roses got rather tall. Some nearly reached the roof. She deadheaded them, but after someone mentioned how tall the roses were, she was no longer interested in cutting them back. So I thought. Now I wonder if was because it was too difficult for her to prune them and s
Yesterday afternoon, and into the night, I essentially did something like a cramming session. As is my wont, I waited to the last minute to complete documents to bring to the self-help legal center at the courthouse this morning. Monday is the only day the center is open for five hours. I made sure that the Husband and I got out of the house in time to get there at 8:00 a.m. because I was told that people begin lining up minutes before the door opens. Half a block away I could see parking spaces right next to the building. We were so in luck! The courthouse doors were still locked at 8:01 a.m. Peeking through the glass door, we saw no guards manning the security screening machines. Odd, right? I walked a bit further up and noticed through the windows that the shades were drawn at the counter where the court clerks ought to be. Eerie! "Is this a holiday?" I asked the Husband. "Is this the 19th?" he answered. "President's Day is the 19th." "Tha