Sunday Random

My first daffodils:

More observations on filling the void:

The front seat of my car on a typical day is a moving library (pink bag full of books on CD), a art studio (brown bag with blue straps ( sketch pad, Uppercase magazine, Vera book for inspiration), umbrella for sudden rain showers, brown jacket for falling temperatures, crumbled lunch sack which had my lunch in it earlier in the day, second umbrella on the floor (because you never know when you'll need a back up) empty drink cups, Bed, Bath and Beyond $5 coupon, blotter paper ( for makeup touch up) and my purse.

Work doodle:

Cute (in my humble opinion) baby headband that I whipped up to add to the gift for my niece's baby shower today.

The baby's name will be Sunny....In case you think I was so very clever in picking out the perfect gift bag...don't. It wasn't until I reread the invitation this morning that I noticed the baby's name. Duh!....Don't even ask how many times I read the directions to the house wrong today....We made it, that's all that counts.

Speaking of babies:

This little guy will be a big brother come next November.

Those Gloomy Bronte Sisters and Various Other Topics which I never Fully Explored

Okay, here's the deal....my brain is mush. All week I've been mentally lamenting the fact that there is nothing going on in the gray matter....NOTHING!

I envy Debby over at Life's Funny Like That. She recently began college...she has lots of new things to think about.

As for me, I've always been a mostly cerebral type of person. My ex husband was fond of calling me lazy (i.e. the "ex" explanation). For years I swallowed his abuse in this area thinking he was right. Everything I love doing is of a sedentary nature. One day in a moment of clarity, I realized that I may not be very physically active, but mentally my brain was always busy. So, it really bothers me to think that I'm finding so little to interest me. I need stimulation. I need challenges. I need someone who will begin an intellectual conversation with me...since at this point I'm incapable of starting the conversation myself.

Which leads me to the reason for this rant. This morning I decided to look back through my blog drafts to see if there was some post I began that I might be able to finish and post today. Nada. I do have some intriguing beginnings...

On October 14, 2009 I started this post:

Last weekend a girlfriend and I watched one of my Netflix selections, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which was adapted from Anne Bronte's novel of the same name. While I enjoyed the movie, the gloomy nature of the piece got me to thinking about those Bronte sisters. Wuthering Heights by Emily and Jane Eyre by Charlotte as well as this movie all explore the dark depths of human nature.

Let it not be imagined,
however, that I consider myself
competent to reform the errors
and abuses of society, but only
that I would fain contribute my
humble quota towards so good an
aim; and if I can gain the
public ear at all, I would rather
whisper a few wholesome truths
therein than much soft nonsense.
-from the Author's Preface

On November 17th, 2008 I started this one titled Samuri:

Compare this to the education of the Samurai, the warriors of Japanese history. A Samurai was expected to be well versed in warfare, both through reading the works of strategists and through the use of weapons. On the other hand, writing poetry, drawing, tea preparation, meditation and flower arranging were also considered essential skills for a warrior. This is difficult for people in European cultures to fathom unless we understand that all of those skills were signs for the ephemeral nature of life, beautiful and then gone. A Samurai was like the cherry blossom; a beautiful object to behold both on the tree and floating to the ground in death; a life to be relished in the moment and released in jubilation.

Ken Watanabe

On January 1, 2009 I wrote:

I did not read a single book which the New York Times designated as the 100 Notable Books of 2008. Not a single notable book.

In my defense, I listened to a lot of books on CD. I actually read more than a few books too. At some point every year I start listing all of them....and I always quit before long. Resulting in me knowing that I read stacks of books, but having no clue what most of them were. Right now, today, I am again resolving to keep a list this year. (nope...still haven't made the list)

Yesterday, I began this one under the title Halcyon Days Gone By:

Sweet-heart necklines, prairie dresses, knee-high socks with mini skirts, mod prints, big eyelashes, board straight hair parted down the middle, bell bottom jeans with patches and embroidered flowers, hip-hugging pants, big belt buckles, puffy sleeves,



If any of these unfinished topics spark a tiny flicker or a flame of thought, a prickle of interest, a synaptic connection...please talk to me about it!

Into the Void

Ever noticed that as soon as you clean out a drawer you find new things to put into it?

Why is it that when six people lived in my home and I had only one closet to call my own that was enough? Now that it's just me my things fill two closets and spill over into two more.

When I drive to work I try to keep three or four or more car lengths between me and the car in front of me for safety's sake. But that doesn't last long before someone pulls into the open space.

Empty the trash...fill it back up. Fill bags with stuff to donate...come home with more.

Case in point: Once this was an empty lot near my office.

Last summer a dumpster and a shopping cart suddenly appear. (no office building or grocery store in sight)

Half a year later...same lot:

Filling up with trucks and junk.

But it's not pretty...why couldn't the lot be overtaken with wild flowers and babbling brooks and chirping birds and sugar and spice and everything nice?

Nature abhors a vacuum/void.

Four Things

I like these doors.

I like the name of this store.

I like this staircase.

I like slaw dogs.


Your turn. Name four things you like.

Souvenir - A Magpie Tale

Ill-fated pachyderm
ivory tusks
whittled, carved, gouged and chiseled.
African souvenir,
merely a trinket
pocketed by the hunter.


For more Magpie Tales click here.

RSVPs Unnecessary

Here's the map. I hope you will find the way to my secret garden today.

Yes, this is the door.

Think hard and magic words will float back to you from your childhood dreams. the lock to release and allow you inside.

This little lady whistles a pretty hello.

While she watches over her nest below.

Winter lingers outside these walls, but summer's delights are celebrated here.

Purple and red. Yellow and green. Color saturated with sunshine and light.

Nuts to gather. Faerie homes to fashion from twigs and such, under big mushrooms over to the right. Under the apple tree. In the dappled sunlight.

High clouds float lazily overhead. Bees buzz about collecting honeyed nectar. Lily pads rest upon the pond. I close my eyes and nap for a minute.

Today I will rest a while in the secret garden I've tucked away in my imagination. You're invited to do the same.

Some of these images were borrowed from the world wide web of fanciful wonders and delights.

New Friend

Look who decided he likes me yesterday, after hanging out on my porch and in my garage for a year without giving me any attention except to run away.

Silver and Gold

Memories are the treasures that we keep locked deep within the storehouse of our souls, to keep our hearts warm when we are lonely.
Becky Aligada

Smile, it is the key that fits the lock of everybody's heart.
Anthony J. D'Angelo


If smiles are silver,
then memories are gold.
Each remaining forever
a blessing to unfold.

Make a memory with someone today
Smile at a stranger along the way.
Hearts will be mended
Souls soon tended.

Whenever life is sad or rough
these small kindnesses will be enough.
-swb

Shades of Gray

The parking meter posing in front of tall doors

Two comfy lounge chairs where work is abhored

A bouquet of roses bound tightly by ribbon and wishes

A meal shared and a sink full of dirty dishes

And the need to photograph it all,

For which I'm happy to answer the call.

Magpie Tales-1KJ

A Weighty Issue

Jewel had found the rough little dohickey among her dad’s things after his death a few years ago and kept it with her as a sort of lucky charm. Now, she jiggled the thingamabob in her pocket as she often did whenever she felt her temperature rising.

She was sure Kelvin knew he would get her blood pressure up if he kept pressing her about this issue again. They’d been together now for over 25 years and there was one thing they’d never been able to agree on. She’d told him often enough that she would not discuss it anymore. They’d each had their say and now she was done with it. Obviously, he wasn’t. He’d begun the subject just as he’d always done by asking her why she’d made that particular decision all those years ago.

As he continued to push her to comment, she twisted the dojigger between her fingers at a faster and faster pace. Its rough edges distracted her as they tore at the skin on her hands and caught at loose strings in her skirt pocket. She was happy for the distraction. She didn’t want to be forced to answer him.

He always did this to her. He would press and push until she became too hot for her fury to be contained. Then she would boil over and her anger would know no bounds. She thought,” he will not be satisfied until he’s worked me into an angry ball of fire,” which she knew she would unleash with a torrent of heated words and incendiary accusations.

She took the whatchamacallit from her pocket and impulsively threw it at him hitting him squarely on the upper arm. “Whydyadothat?” he yelled.

“Because I don’t want to talk about this,” she yelled back at him as she turned and left the room.

Check here for more creative writing prompted by the photo of the whatchamacallit.