Cool pelican, don't you think? His head? I have no idea what happened to it. He's requesting a sparkle-sparkle body. The better to show off his plumage, so he says. Only then will he reveal his name.  Giggle.   

Knock, knock. "Please enter," said Judge Jennifer, hanging up her judicial gown. "That was quite a jaded case," Agathe the Aardvark said from the doorway. "You must be exhausted. We can do our jaunt another day." "The walk will do me good," the jack rabbit said. "Just let me get my camera and phone and I shall be ready to go. Will Filemon be joining us?" "He'll meet us at the meadow. He said he'll jet about and try to locate the tree before we get there." "That jocular flying squirrel," jested Jennifer. Agathe giggled, then said, "Filemon does have a way of forgetting a job once he's in flight." The walk from the courthouse to the meadow took longer than usual, but neither friend minded the slow pace at all. Agathe snacked on ants or termites that she found while Jennifer snapped photos of jackals drilling the street with jackhammers, juvenile jaguars jumping into a jeep, a Jesu

I saw a bunch of naughty trees the other morning. Okay, knotty, to be precise. 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!

I love it when Missy Molly by Golly chooses to cuddle next to me on the couch. The thing is she can fidget, but I'm not allowed, according to her majesty. When she no longer can take my movements, she sits up, shakes her head, as if to sigh, and walks over to the Husband, nestling beside him. Zzzzzzzzzz. . .zzzzzzzzzzzz. . . Last night I happened to have my camera in my pocket. With much slyness and swiftness on my part, I clicked, clicked, clicked away at the Girl.

  This was in 1996 (or 1997) in our backyard at our first home together. We had an awesome view of San Francisco Bay and, behind the Husband and all that greenery, of San Francisco. It had been about 20 years since either of us lived in a house. What a luxury that was. No flights of stairs to carry groceries, packages, or laundry. Open the front door and sit on an actual porch. Until sound walls were built by the freeway a few miles below us, we heard no traffic. And, we had a huge backyard with nothing in it so we could transform it into anything we wanted. Yes, definitely a wonderful first home for us to get used to each other. Doesn't the Husband look cute? In college, he was given the nickname "Farmer Dick" by his friends. Not because he was a farmer, but because he wore overalls a lot.  (That's another thing the Husband and I had in common when we were young.)  He makes a handsome farmer, the Husband does, so I say. I'm linking up with All Season

I'm tired. Satisfyingly, though. My left knee is growing stiffer by the second, as are my shoulders and hands. I'm fine with that. I accomplished my goal today before it started raining. For about four hours I've been digging holes by the back fence for roses which I transplanted from pots  (the orange roses, for instance) and from the middle of the banana plants. I've always wondered what the Mama had planted first, the banana plants or the roses. All the transplanted roses began as cuttings that the Mama stuck in the dirt. Whenever she trimmed her roses, she'd propagate a few branches, so who knows what generation the roses are that I stuck into the ground today. If you're interested, here's an old post about the Mama's roses. I also have a bucket of rose cuttings, which, if my body doesn't protest and it's not raining too awfully much, I'll put them into the ground tomorrow. Rose cuttings don't grow for me in pots. Mostly because

Anyone else think the cloud looks like the top half of a puffy Hulk? Hanging out at Skywatch Friday . Come join me by clicking here . Thanks, Skywatch Friday hosts!

"Here comes another oh-nay lah-nay bridge," said the Husband. We were driving on a windy road somewhere on the island of Hawaii a long time ago. "Oh-nay lah-nay?" "See, oh-nay lah-nay," the Husband said, gesturing towards the yellow sign we were passing. "Oh." That's one of the infinite reasons I'm with the Husband. A few hours ago, we drove over two, maybe three oh-nay lah-nay bridges while we meandered the country roads a few miles from home.

We invite you to jump for joy with us on our wedding day, Wednesday, June 27, 2018, at the Honalee Bay Aquarium! Infinitely, Winnie & Thomas "Hey, Iago! I see you got your invitation," called Guy A. Gator to the iridescent iguana basking in the sun on the immense igneous boulder. Iago opened one eye to watch his alligator friend indolently swagger towards him, clutching the heart-shaped invitation in his mouth. "Going, are you?" "Indubitably," Iago answered somewhat indifferently. The iguana half-listened to Guy's incessant chatter. Iago yawned, idly gazing at the horizon. His eyes widened. He sat up straighter. Edwina the Egret , his imagined love, soared in the near distance. Iago's heart beat faster as he watched the ingenious creature glide to a stop beside Guy. "I figure since Thomas and Winnie are vegetarians, I'd grill their favorite veggies and cook them into my famous gumbo for the reception,&quo

"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life  which are the real ones after all." ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder 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!

"Sailing, sailing over the bounding main. . . ." In this case, the bounding main is a dinner plate standing tall in the front yard.  It didn't seem to mind the rain. Happy Monday to you!

Molly has asked that I tell you about her satisfying and satisfactory Sunday morning, and before breakfast, too. Molly and I were deadheading daisies in the front yard. Molly is the supervisor, in case you're wondering. About 20 minutes into clipping soggy dried daisy heads (we had rain—yay!) I glanced up to see Molly sitting with her body tensely taut and intently watching the flamingo. From my angle, Molly and the faded artificial bird seemed to be in a stare down. Five minutes later, I noticed that Molly had moved halfway closer to Albert. That's the flamingo's name I've decided. Three minutes ticked by: Molly was in stealth hunter's mode. She quickly and quietly tiptoed around me and crept into the bushes to (no doubt) ambush Albert from behind. I wonder who was surprised more—Albert or Molly. That was not the end to Molly satisfactory morning adventure. No m'ams and sirs. Ten minutes later, I was planting tiny daisy branches (in hopes they'll grow

The Mama loved her flowers. Every time she trimmed her flowers, she planted many of the trimmings directly into the soil elsewhere. And, they grew. I'm hoping that will happen for me, too.  Here's what her daisies, geraniums, and rosemary in the front of the house looked like this afternoon. Oh, Happy Spring!

I believe cats to be spirits come to earth. A cat, I am sure, could walk on a cloud without coming through. ~ Jules Verne   Hanging out at Skywatch Friday . Come join me by clicking here . Thanks, Skywatch Friday hosts!

Finally! The winter rain has come to our part of the world. It began last night. A steady pitter patter, pitter patter on the roof and a swoosh and splash in the streets. Molly the Cat and I celebrated this morning by wandering around the front yard. Actually, it was more like Molly doing her best to shepherd me back into the house. At one point, Molly sat on the doorstep looking like she was sighing at my silliness of deadheading wet daisies. If she could, I'm sure she would've folded her "arms" over her chest and tapped one paw in a "come on, come inside, get out of the rain" staccato beat. Excuse me now as I imagine Molly's tappingness turning into her tapdancing and splashing in the rain like Gene Kelly. Hmmm, Molly has a voice quite like Debbie Reynolds, "I'm singing in the rain. . . ."

"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