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!
1) I finally put this plant, a cousin of the bird of paradise, in the ground. I stuck it in a pot with the bottom ripped out so the roots will have access as it, hopefully, grows. 2) Of course I had to paint the pot before I put the plant in it. 3) The tyrannosaurus rex asked to be more colorful. 4) I dug out two wilting geranium plants that used to hang out behind the plant. They’re now sitting in a bucket of water to be planted elsewhere. 5) A brown butterfly flitted and rested around the Jupiter’s beard flowers, slurping at each stop. 6) A hummingbird drank from the geranium blossoms. I think it was an Anna’s hummingbird. 7) A blue jay tried very hard to crack open a nut. 8) The neighbor behind us told me that possums hang out in our yard late at night. They’re quite active, she said. At least they’re not rats, I said. Thank goodness. 9) It’s day two of the Husband’s cold. Poor guy. I’m willing myself to not catch it. I have a rag and a bottle of rubbing alcohol handy to rub off a
I’ve been the packhorse of the household these last few weeks. I’m not complaining, simply stating a fact. We’re temporarily carless, so we’ve been walking and taking the bus for errands, and because the husband’s shoulder is still on the mend, I’ve been the carrier of goods with my old workhorse of a purple daypack. Olé! I got to wondering what are the attributes of a good packhorse, whether a human, donkey, snail, or other animal. 1) Not a wuss. 2) Stubborn. 3) Keep on keeping on. 4) Resolve. 5) Happy feet. 6) When there’s a will, there’s a way. 7) Determination. 8) Entertains oneself while chugging onward. 9) Mindfulness. 10) Positive. 11) Willingness. 12) Self-motivated. 13) Looking forward to the yummy carrot at the end of the trail. It’s day 55 of my countdown. Being a packhorse right now is a good thing, as it helps me build up physical and mental strength and endurance. As for any pain, I can imagine flicking it away with my imaginary packhorse tail. It’s a long one, too. 🙃
Meet Sweater Bear. And, his friends Pumpkie Bear and Pinky Bear. They’re all in their 40s and continue to give me comfort and joy. The duct tape hat I entered into the county fair has been claimed by Sweater Bear who no longer feels naked. He has been without his white knit pullover sweater for a few years. It was taken off to be washed some time back, and well, no more, no more. Sweater Bear belonged to Mama. I bought him from a thrift shop and gave it to Mama. I figured, she like me, didn’t have a stuffed animal when she was a child. If she had, I’m sure I would’ve had one, too. Mama kept Sweater Bear on her prized bed that she rarely slept on. I was in my late 20s when stuffed animals began finding their way into my home. Some I bought for myself. Others were gifted, and others had been “trades” with with my nieces. Pinky Bear once belonged to the youngest niece. Oh, and I can’t forget those won in carnival games. Pumpkie Bear was a prize from the Circus Circus casino in Reno. I
Prompt: Red, Friday Writings , hosted by Poets and Storytellers United I don’t remember whether I gave the funeral home’s makeup artist a tube of Mama’s favorite lipstick. That was six years ago. I hope I did. Lipstick completes a woman, so I think Mama believed. Mama’s Lips Red, true red, was the color Mama traced precisely filled in carefully pursing lips lightly blotting away red. A final look, deep breath. Ready. -30- Head to Friday Writings to read what other participants are writing this week.
Mama and Daddy were great believers in growing fruit trees, which, unfortunately, as a kid I didn’t like the taste of most fruit. They didn’t have much luck with the apple trees or the pear and peach trees bearing fruit. The cherry trees produced but Daddy eventually cut them down because the birds got to the fruit before us. Their persimmon and fig trees yielded tons of fruit that they gave away to friends and neighbors. Today, I’m a big fruit eater. Still a picky one though. I prefer to buy organic fruit directly from the farmers. There’s definitely a difference in taste. These are my top 13 favorite fruits, not in any particular order. papaya mango pineapple avocado cherry strawberry blueberry tomato orange persimmon pear watermelon cantaloupe Sharing with Thursday 13 .
Art for Fun Friday ( 1) Thursday came and went before I finished my post for Thursday 13 . So many things by which to be distracted—painting, housekeeping, weeding, reading, gardening, wandering on the Web, watching movies, talking with the Husband, cooking, and so forth and so on. I love my life as an old lady. (2) Today’s prompt for Friday Writings is “a hobby that brings you peace.” Gardening, definitely. Painting, also. I like it when they overlap, for example, the planter box of transplanted Jupiter’s beard in the above photo. The left side of the box was painted a couple years ago. I painted the right side this week because I decided to place the planter at the southeast end of the sidewalk and I wanted something colorful to face the street. (3) Doing research is fun. Sometimes I think of Google as being an 8-ball when I &ask a yes/no question such as “Can I plant canna lilies next to vine geraniums, maybe two feet away?” Of course, Google never gives me a simple