In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now approaching 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've been working in the yard the past few days. It's getting where I prefer being outdoors. What am I talking about? I've always rather be outside. It was when I was living in San Francisco that I got used to being indoors. After all, I can walk around without shoes. 2. Speaking of being barefoot. Last night we watched Sayonara , starring Marlon Brando, a 1957 film based in Japan about the prejudice against interracial relationships, in particular, marriage (Heavens to Murgatroyd) between American military men and Japanese women. There was also a hint of lust between a Japanese man and an American woman, which probably drew both an aghast! and a titillated hmmm from the audience. 3. There's a similar theme in the musical South Pacific . In one scene, the American officer, who's in love with an island girl, and the American Army nurse, who's horrified the deceased wife of the man she loves was an island woman, commiserate about having to foll
Missus Lady said today's post is mine to do, if I like. Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Missus Lady and Mister Man did errands today. Miao, miao. They skipped the pet store mowrrr because Missus Lady's mask flew off her head. Said Missus Lady (which I'm repeating word for word), "I'd just pushed my mask up on my head and opened the car window. I heard a scraping sound so I leaned out the window to see if anything was dangling from the car. Nothing, but then I saw something pink fly by me. It was my mask." "We turned around to fetch it. As Missus Lady got out of the car, a big rig ran over the mask," added Mister Man (not those exact words but that idea). Miao, miao. Missus Lady retrieved her mask from the middle of the empty street. Miao. Because it was no longer safe to wear and Missus Lady is the designated shopper, my humans came home. It's the green can for dinner tonight. Mowrr. I am glad my Humans are home, safe and sound, even witho
I was sitting in front of the computer about to start today's post when I heard it. Pop! Huh? I looked over to the left where the sound came. What do ya know? A California poppy pod makes a sound when it opens. Pop! And, the seeds go all over the place. Yesterday, I harvested a pocketful of poppy pods and left them all on a small oval plate on top of the radio. The poppy pod that popped was not on the plate. Did the pod jump off the plate as it opened? So it seems. That's my story for today. Much more interesting than I was about to write. Pop! I wonder if that's how poppies got their name. All Seasons is where I'm heading now. The meme is hosted by Jesh at The Jesh Studio . Come join me if you like.
1. Who remembers the days of the manual typewriters? Clack, clack, clack. And, if you were a proficient typist, clack clack clackity clickclack clickity. . . ! 2. Anyone else glad he or she took typing in high school? Friends tell me we learned on electric typewriters. I remember the manual typewriters in journalism class. Yup, I felt like a real reporter when I composed my stories on a typewriter. 3. During the days of electric typewriters, a few of my friends typed 100+ words per minute and more with hardly any mistakes. I dilly-dallied around half that speed with several mistakes. (I hated typing documents that required carbon copies.) 4. The fastest I could type was in the high 70s. I remember coming out of a job interview all psyched about that high score. I thought that I ought to insure my hands. They were, after all, necessary for my livelihood. hahahaha. 5. The other day the husband and I talked with friends over the phone for a couple of hours. That's al
The story I was told. She was a child. Ang ubing. Maybe three, maybe four. She had fallen ill. Masakit. Dakes. Terribly sick. "She pinched the air," said Lola Julia, "like she was catching butterflies." - 30 - Mosiac Monday at Letting Go of the Bay Leaf is where I'm heading now. Come join me.
"I want to be there," said the Husband. Me, too. The other day I was missing the sight of granite, miles and miles of exposed surface of batholith mountains. In particular, the Sierra Nevada mountain range. More specifically, Desolation Wilderness in the El Dorado National Forest, west of Lake Tahoe. Every year, for nine years, the Late Great First Husband and I backpacked the Sierras. At least one trip was to our favorite spot, Pyramid Lake in Desolation Wilderness, above Horsetail Falls, off of Highway 50. These photos are from my first backpacking trip up Horsetail Falls. The original prints were overexposed. Thankfully, I kept the pictures and was able to "clean" them up a bit in Photoshop. Talk about following the First Husband with complete trust while carrying 25 pounds, more or less, of food, gear, and reading material on my back. I don't know what it's like today, but back then, once you got to the base of the falls, the way
All of a sudden, Mama's roses are in bloom. Pop! Pop! Pop! I heeded the experts and hacked away at most of the rose bushes when it was pruning time. Mama liked to let them grow tall. So do I. It's just that the roses got to looking wimpy and straggly and all things not good. Pop, pop, pop. Pop! About two years ago, I transplanted this orange rose bush from the other side of the backyard. The butterfly bush had a way of hiding it away from the sun during the summer. This year it looks so much happier than last year. Pop. Pop! Pop. It's time for Mosaic Monday . Click here to check out photo collages by other bloggers. Take care out there! Pop. Pop. Pop.