Monday, 25 September 2017

Poetry Monday: What You Wear Under There

That week sure went fast ... maybe partly a little bit perhaps probably TOTALLY because I was SO looking forward to the topic Diane gave us for this Poetry Monday ... underwear.

Ha ha. I lie.

Anyway.

Whatever you call them - underwear, undies, gotchies, pretties, unmentionables, knickers, smalls - they aren't something we were ever encouraged to talk about in polite company in my family when I was growing up.

Now, I know perfectly well that they are just another article of clothing. And I also know that Diane and Delores and Joan will find a delicate way to discuss undies. And probably be hilarious while they are doing it.

But this is the best I can do, given my upbringing and resulting inhibitions.

Underwear

Do I dare
Talk about
Underwear?

Do I dare
Write about
Underwear?

Do I care
To even think about
Underwear?

In my opinion
The biggest thing
To remember about
Underwear

Is that it
Should never
Ever
EVER
Be spelled
UnderWARE

We WEAR it UNDER
Other stuff.
UNDERWEAR.

Or think of it
Like this:

   U is for under clothing
   N is for no holes or tatters
   D is for decorum, please let's have some
   E is for everybody please wear some
   R is for really, please wear some
   W is for wishing everybody would wear some
   E is for everyone you see is either wearing or not wearing them but you can't always tell
   A is for always glad I can't tell
   R is for rolling eyes, because by this point you likely are, and I know I am


*****
Aaaaaand . . . done!!


Actually, I'm so rattled I forgot the preamble. I'll do it as a post-amble. Poetry Monday is brought to you by Diane, Delores, Donkey (me!), and Joan (in the comments). Read a poem, write a poem, leave a poem in the comments or join in on your blog if you have one!


Donkey snickering about underwear, no doubt. Because real donkeys don't need any.



P. S. If you want to read about more euphemisms for underwear, check out this page:
http://blog.oxforddictionaries.com/2012/07/dont-forget-your-pants/




Friday, 22 September 2017

Lazy Friday

It has been a quiet week here. My poem is all ready for next Monday, but what can I write about today?

It certainly hasn't been a quiet week in the rest of the world. But I have no heart to write about natural disasters, humanitarian crises, wars, political machinations, or even arts and entertainment.

Instead, I return to the icanhas.cheezburger website.

Well, maybe just one political statement first . . .

Not confined to just one politician. Many are behaving badly at the moment. And some of them are Ma'am, not Sir.




Now on to other things:











































A lazy Friday here at Procrastinating Donkey . . .

Hope you have a lazy day in your calendar soon. Unless you like the other kind of day; then I hope you have one of those :)






Monday, 18 September 2017

Poetry Monday: Working ... Plus: Arrr, Matey!

It's Poetry Monday, people!  Started by Diane, taken up by Delores and I - and now, in the comments, Joan, who has agreed to take on the challenge each week and have her name up in lights, so to speak. You know the drill: Write a poem, read a poem, leave a poem in the comments - anything goes, poetry-wise. This is for fun and for sharing.

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to visit and contribute a comment or a poem. You are a fine bunch, and may I add good-looking too.

This week's topic, as suggested by Diane, is working. The first thing I think of in connection with working is the jobs we do for a paycheque. I thought about the difference between the active working lives of my parents and grandparents and my own sedentary working life, spent first at a typewriter (remember those?) and then at a computer chasing numbers and words. In June of 2016, after an extended run of very long days, aggravated by sitting in a chair that did not suit my frame, I developed rather bad hip and lower back pain. In the end, it was determined that my joints had started to seize up, like unused equipment tends to do, and then took my muscles along for the ride.

I am mostly pain-free now, but I have to keep mobile and strong to stay that way. Having been unable to walk for pleasure for six months last year has helped me appreciate even more the ability to walk now without pain. Walking is my physiotherapy, but it's also my joy.

One of the professionals who worked on me to bring me back to mobility told me research shows people who work at computers all day have as high a risk of physical impairment as nurses in the days when they lifted, moved, and worked on patients all day long. Who would have thought it?

*****

Working

Those of my family before me
All hard workers were they
A merchant, a miner, a woodsman
Their living they earned that way

A mechanic and a teacher
Were my parents' jobs, you see
And that brings me to the present
And the work that's done by me

I work with words and numbers
Typing and tapping away
I sit for hours and hours
Only fingers and eyes in play

I wonder which is the harder -
Pushing a body to give?
Or forcing a body to be so still?
Neither's a way to live

The answer may prove (as usual)
To be a shade of grey
Too much work wearies the body
Too little ... still makes you pay

A body is made to be working
And a body needs times of rest
A healthy, consistent balance
Is what suits a body best

*****

How I feel when my numbers don't behave. My brain definitely gets exercise even when my body doesn't.


Do you have to work at getting a balance of work and rest? Or does it come easily?

*****

And just before I go, might I remind all of you that tomorrow, September 19, is International Talk Like A Pirate Day (see HERE for a fun rundown on how it began, and HERE for humourist Dave Barry's hilarious column about it).

I've been waiting for this day for months, because I found this:







and also this:






Don't forget to say "arrr," "yar," or even "arf," and "matey" and "walk the plank" at some point in the day! No, no - don't actually walk the plank, just SAY it ... and if you accomplish nothing else, you'll have either confused, confounded, or exasperated the other people in your orbit ... er, on your pirate ship of life :)







Friday, 15 September 2017

I'm Rich! I'M RICH! But Not The Normal Kind

As I mentioned last Friday (HERE), the local used book sale was held recently over the better part of a week. My daily attendance was almost 100%.

I'm not sure that's something to be proud of, but I look at it like a squirrel might: Gather ye acorns while ye may. Except in my case it is ye books. (I know the original line is "gather ye rosebuds" but I like to think of a literate squirrel changing it for his own use, and then me borrowing it from him and changing it again.)

Husband and I are devotees of the written word - as are many of you - and our habit is just too costly at full price. It does take time and stamina to weed through the hundreds of books available, but I was determined to make the most of the sale.

Last year the 30-some books I bought lasted less than six months, even though we both read each other's preferred genres. My husband leans toward historical fiction and legal mysteries, while I lean toward books with less action but lots of thinking and feeeeelings (always said with the proper emphasis), but those are only leanings and there's a lot of overlap in our reading.

I went bigger this year with 60-plus books, many of which could double as hefty doorstops - at an average price of less than $2. My book-loving heart is going pitter-patter as I contemplate my harvest. Not unlike how I imagine a squirrel feels when it gets into a bird feeder.

The last day of the sale I nearly swooned when I learned that all books were priced to move at a buck apiece. This is how five cookbooks came home with me - against all reason, considering that I make the same things for supper over and over. Maybe I'll make something new and exciting now.

... Or maybe I won't. But I'll have fun reading them. (Some of us do that, you know. Like a novel.)

And next year, many of these books will be donated back to the sale, to be bought by another avid reader.


Job done. Can relax now.

Hope you all have a happy weekend ... and if you are a book-lover too, tell me: how do you feed your habit? Do you prefer best-sellers or do you like to look for overlooked gems? Or are you omnivorous?

(Side note: I used the word omnivorous in fun, thinking it was only meant for food, but checked the definition - and lo, it can be used just like this!)



Monday, 11 September 2017

Come Back, This Will Only Take A Minute If You Hold Still

It's Poetry Monday! Diane (who started the challenge) suggested Nature as this week's topic, to give us a boost and some focus. But if you're inclined to write about something else, please do! There aren't any rules; we just want to encourage the writing of poetry of any kind. Post in the comments on any of our blogs, or if you post on your own blog be sure to leave us your blog address in the comments.

Check out Diane's blog (HERE) and Delores' blog (HERE) for their poems. Joan (of Devon) also contributes regularly in the comments here. Other folks are leaving poems or links quite often, too. Check out the comments to see them - there is a lot of talent and everyone has a different take on the weekly topics. If anyone wants to join on a regular basis, please let us know and we'll include you in the preamble each week.

In view of the direction I took with this week's topic, I think we need some introductory comments.

I had already been musing about the idea of having a tail.

Before you start backing away from me with that funny look in your eyes, let me explain how I got there. If you've been reading regularly, you will remember that our big fluffy black cat has gone to live with our son. Here he is, before he moved away:

I hope you can see his tail here. Photographing a black cat can be a challenge. And who could have predicted I'd need a better picture of his tail at some point?

Anyway, it turns out that Mr. Floofy was responsible for nine-tenths of the cat hair issue we had here. (Sorry, son. I didn't realize.)

That got me thinking about what it would be like to be covered in long, fine fur all over and not be able to ever, ever, ever get away from it. And, in particular, for a cat who bathes with its tongue, what would it be like to have a tail covered in that amount of fur?

Then I got to thinking about what it would be like to have a tail, in general. Or to have other things humans don't have.

Oh, for goodness' sake, before you run away completely, here's my poem.


*****

And You Thought The Bionic Man Was Special


Have you ever thought that being human-shaped is kind of dull and boring?
No doubt our opposable thumbs are an advantage but after that it's all downhill.
Compare our two arms and two legs to a bird with two wings soaring ...
We're stuck on the ground while he flies high without a single pill.

Or consider the elephant with his elegant and useful trunk,
So sensitive it can find and pick up a single blade of grass by touch;
Strong enough to knock down trees and pick up heavy junk;
So agile it can open any human-made, one-handed latch.

And speaking of prehensile appendages, what about a monkey's tail?
It's like a fifth hand, while humans are lucky to have two (and could often use a third).
Imagine the thrill of swinging securely along a treetop trail!
It would be just as glorious as flying like a bird.

And what if we could bring our homes with us like the tortoise does?
And if we're threatened simply pull in our head and limbs and be safe?
All snug inside our fortress, uncaring what the danger was,
While the thing outside that meant to eat us can only growl and chafe.

Then there is the lowly fish, a swimmer extraordinaire.
He spends his days and nights where we cannot survive for long,
Pulling oxygen from the water with his gills, just as we breathe the air ...
We say he's lower on the evolutionary scale, but maybe we're wrong.

So many of Nature's creatures have been given (or have retained)
Extra-special features -- like deluxe models of the basic animal form ...
Why on earth does man think he has the right to rule and reign?
Is our brain our only saving grace? The thought leaves me, at most, lukewarm.


Yes, but some days maybe I shouldn't be allowed to write down what I think ...



*****

For seven facts you might not know about the elephant's trunk, click HERE.

For a brief but adorable video of a baby elephant trying to figure out what that thing on the front of his head is, click HERE.

*****

I'm not sure why I started out thinking about tails but now I'm concentrating on trunks. Your guess is as good as mine.

*****

If you could have any "extra-special feature" that another species in the animal kingdom has, what would it be?




Friday, 8 September 2017

Small Wins

It's been another hard week for anyone with a heart who is paying attention to world events. Of course, it's been an even harder week for those who have been actually living through the natural and man-made disasters that have been in the news. My heart goes out to those who have been affected, and I wish them safety and steady recovery.

I've been feeling slowly crushed by it all, even though I know I can do next to nothing about any of it.

All I really know how to do is to light my small corner of the world, and so I want to share today some things that made me smile this week, hoping they will either lighten your day too or remind you of things that have been good about your own week.


I smiled ...

... seeing, in the back seat of a passing car, a golden retriever slouching comfortably upright with a frisbee clamped firmly in his teeth. I don't know where he was going, but it looked like all was right with his world.

Like this guy, except not in the water, and not with a stick. Otherwise, IDENTICAL.



... watching our Angry Cat pouncing on a length of strapping tape being pushed under a sheet of tissue paper ...This is the cat who followed me home after a walk a few years ago, punched me in the face when I picked her up, and once bit me so hard I got blood poisoning and needed antibiotics (to be fair, the vet was manipulating her sore hip when she lashed out). This is the cat who did not even know what toys were for when she first came to live with us, who watched me rolling a toy ball for her with a look of grim disgust. To see her playing now like a kitten does my heart good.

... reading about the raccoon who scaled a 700 foot crane in Toronto; after it got to the top, it "made a poo" and then "ambled all the way back to the ground" ... (full article HERE).

... finding out that the annual used book sale is on right now, at the exact same time as I have a few days off work. I've already been once, and will go a few more times at least, and will end up with enough reading for a few months at a fraction of the cost of new books. For those who haven't read the post in that link before, it gives the background behind why I stopped being a book reader and how I started again. (If you want to know what I've been reading, check the "Recent Reads" list on the right side of my blog.)

... figuring out how to take a picture of the huge yellow-orange moon with my point and shoot camera - apparently "beach and snow" is the correct setting to use. What?? No wonder it took so long to figure it out.

Believe it or not, this is true to the colour of the moon here a couple of nights ago. It wasn't quite this big, though; I zoomed in for this shot. And I still didn't see a single beach or flake of snow.




And now, two bonus funnies, one for cat lovers ...




And one for dog lovers ...





Wishing you a good weekend! And tell me, has anything made you smile this week?




Monday, 4 September 2017

Poetry Monday: Parents (And The Ones Who Make Them Parents)

It's Poetry Monday! Join Diane at On the Alberta/Montana Border, Delores at Mumblings and me, as we write, re-write, gnash our teeth, sweat and swear (or is that just me?) to complete our offerings. Joan (of Devon) has also joined us! She will be posting her poem in the comments here each week as she does not have her own blog.

Other readers have also joined in from time to time and your contributions are always welcome. Leave a poem in the comments on any of our blogs, or if you'd rather post it on your own blog, leave us a link in the comments so we can come trooping over and cheer you on.

Diane has been giving us a topic each week, and you can use it for inspiration or you can write about something completely different. The aim is to have fun and stretch our skills.

This week I thought the topic of "Parents" would be a piece of cake. I have parents, I am a parent, lots of material to choose from, this thing will write itself ...

I persisted in thinking this all week, even though ONLY ONCE has the topic been a piece of cake for me, and as it turns out, this week fell in with the majority.

But persistence finally won the day. Being donkey-stubborn can be good as well as annoying.

For your amusement, may I present:


You Think It's Bad Now? Just You Wait

The story is as old as time:
Boy meets girl and it's sublime.
Nature is what nature be,
And soon the one plus one is three.

For something oh so natural,
It's scarily incredible,
How one small person in the nest
Can make its parents feel helpless.

Feeding, burping, changing onesies -
(Side note: nothing rhymes with "onesies") -
These are skills they never had
But now they need them - need them bad.

Broken sleep makes thinking hazy.
Non-stop crying makes parents crazy.
No time to eat or have a shower -
For such a wee one, oh! such power!

Don't fret too much, new mom and dad;
Baby care is not so bad.
Enjoy these moments, by all means ...
. . . 'Cause babies grow up to be teens.



*****

Let us recap:

Even this sweet baby ...


... will turn into a moody, whiny ...


... or maybe lazy teen ...


... before finally turning into a mature, productive member of society.


P. S. I know many teens who are already more grown up than I am. I am making liberal use of stereotypes in this post, and I hang my head in shame and apologize.

All photos courtesy of Pixabay, with appreciation.

Friday, 1 September 2017

Skies Above Me

There's not a lot going on in my head today, so I thought I'd post a few pictures from the last few months instead. When I looked back at my picture folders, I had an awful lot of pictures pointing up; some were just sky, some were stuff with the sky as background. So I guess there's quite a bit to be seen even when the sky isn't full of stars.



The walking trail I use runs below the bank where these trees grow, which allows for a shot from nearly ground level without needing to lie down, get bugs or leaves in your hair, or get funny looks from other walkers. Do you know I've never once seen any other walkers with a camera? That seems against the odds, somehow.



The moon at twilight, trapped in the wires. I'm surprised it got free in time for the eclipse, but it did ... unless ... maybe that was an imposter moon that blocked out the sun




A beautiful sunset at our local Wal-Mart

Wispy clouds - they remind me of bits of cotton candy (candy floss, for some of you).  Except in white. Who would buy white cotton candy, though? Is there such a thing?

More wisps


So many layers of clouds!

Half a dozen mourning doves




Another night at Wal-Mart. I swear, they have the best sunsets. And they're free.



Can you spot the two crows? They remind me of sailors in the rigging of a sailboat. Except noisier. They were busy calling me names as I went by.



More clouds. These look like the wool of a lamb to me. I'm beginning to think I have a problem.




And a cheat picture - not the sky, but I couldn't resist:


The most photogenic cat I know. He has no bad side. (If you recall, he shows up on the walking trail at the look-out shelter.)



And that's what's overhead (and underfoot) in my corner of the universe. What's in yours?






Thursday, 31 August 2017

A Cautionary Tale

I know, I know, it's not quite time yet for another wordy post from me.

So I'll keep it short instead.

Did you know that in Blogger, if you happen to hit Enter on your keyboard when you are typing in the Title box, the post you are working on will publish  THAT VERY MOMENT??

Yes. Yes, it will.

If you've seen a weirdly titled post show up in your feed today, just before this one, you'll know how I discovered that little nugget of knowledge.

BE BACK TOMORROW!

Who knew???

Photo by Pixabay. A photo for every occasion. Free.


Monday, 28 August 2017

Poetry Monday: Total Eclipse Of The Brain

Here's the deal about Poetry Monday:  Diane started it; Delores and I joined in; Joan (from Devon) has been contributing in the comments here on a regular basis; anyone and everyone can join in! Read, critique, or leave a poem in the comments, or post on your own blog and leave your blog address in the comments. It's fun (most of the time), it's calorie-free, it's good for your brain, it's a conversation starter. What could be better? Or easier?

Well, lots of things, especially this week. Because here's the rest of the deal. Diane began giving us a theme for Poetry Monday to help us out. And last week, Diane's husband, the rascal, offered up the theme instead. (At least this is my understanding of what happened; I'm still a bit dazed.)

If you read Diane's blog regularly, you will know that Diane's Husby is full of mischief as well as good ideas. His suggestion for a theme was "Eclipses of Life."

WHAT??? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN???

After mulling it over for six days, and feeling the seventh day breathing down my neck, I still can't decide. Perhaps it means those times when life's difficulties cast a shadow over our lives. On the other hand, maybe it's the opposite - the times when life's miracles of beauty or good fortune overshadow its banalities and heartaches. Maybe it means the parts of life that are unknown and shadowy.

Maybe it means Diane's Husby is having a private chuckle thinking about bloggers excavating their last brain cells to figure it out ...

By now, the word "eclipse" is even starting to sound funny, after rolling it around on my tongue so many times hoping for enlightenment. Eclipse. Eclipse. Eclipse. You hear it too, right? RIGHT??

The thing is, the interpretations above are all possibilities, and would make great topics, except they haven't sparked anything in my brain.

Aha. There's the problem ... it's not the theme, it's my brain!


Total Eclipse Of The Brain


My cranium is empty,
My brain cells are dead;
"Eclipses of Life"
Is over my head.

I've parsed the words' meanings.
I've Googled them all.
In spite of my searching,
My brain is on "Stall."

My fingers are ready
To type all my thinks,
But thinks are evasive--
And lack of thinks stinks.

My deadline approaches;
I'm drawing a blank.
The clock ticks and tocks;
It's time to be frank:

The topic has won out;
Therefore--so to speak--
My brain's been eclipsed
By the theme of the week.


*****

Crikey. That was hard!

Over to you, my fine readers :)

Hint: The theme is wearing the boxing gloves and has big ears.


 (Photo: Pixabay)

Friday, 25 August 2017

Even Better Than An Eclipse Of The Sun


Come walk with me, won't you? At this time of year, it's too hot to walk during the day, so I walk at twilight. That means it's too dark to take pictures on my point-and-shoot camera, so you'll need to use your imagination a bit.

The asphalt on our street is still radiating warmth. But the air is cooling, and there's a little breeze that makes walking pleasant. I have about twenty minutes of twilight to wander and wonder.

Early into my walk, I pass a yard that is neatly mowed except for a patch of tall grass near the front step of the house. From this oasis comes the startlingly loud chirp of a cricket. It lives there, I think, because I hear it every evening on my way by. Does the cricket live there because its patch of grass is safe, or do the homeowners leave that grass unmowed because the cricket lives there? I don't think I'll ask, because I don't want to spoil the magic.

A little further along, I pass three elderly pine trees. They are half brown this year, and I suspect they are dying. But from their upper branches comes the breathless murmuring and whistling of a half a dozen mourning doves jostling for sleeping positions. (For an amazing close up video of a mourning dove cooing, go HERE. As it explains, they take in a big gulp of air, and expel it through their nasal cavities to make that trademark cooing noise.)

If I turn left now, I'm headed for the river. This time of night, there is often a train passing through town in the distance, and the screeching and clacking of metal wheels turning on metal tracks carries clearly to my ears. The streetlights and the walking trail lights are all on by now, and they glow softly in the darkening air.

If I had turned right, instead, I'd reach a busier street, but even it is pleasant at this time of night; there are few cars passing and even fewer other evening walkers. Light spills from windows, and dogs who have already had their after-supper walk give a woof (if large) or (if small) yap furiously at me from behind screen doors.

If I'm lucky, I see the new neighbourhood twin fawns and their mama out and about. These aren't the twins of last year, because these ones still have their spots. My husband found them bedded down in our back yard in broad daylight a few weeks ago. Mama was nowhere to be seen. I'm glad she felt our yard was a safe place to leave them while she did errands ... or whatever mama deer do when they go off by themselves. But at the edge of darkness, they are on the move, eating and likely heading for the river to get a drink.

I'm hoofing it pretty steadily because I am not wearing reflective clothing, and I know how hard it is to see a walker at twilight, and I want to get home before it gets completely dark and my husband sends out the search and rescue folks.

But somewhere near the end of my walk, I take a moment to stop, and lift my eyes to the sky, and look at the dark velvet heavens lit by tiny twinkling stars, and marvel - as always - that I am gazing into a space so vast and unknown that I don't know if humanity will ever learn all its secrets. Astronomy has made many discoveries, and we certainly know more than we used to ... but will we ever know it all?

The sky, by night or day, and the endless distance beyond it, is what awes me, and fills my heart, and lifts me up. And it's right over our heads all the time ...

... unlike some celestial events, which shall be unnamed except in the post title but which I disregarded last week like a grumpy old woman, which perhaps I am :)


Not my photo, but it looks just like "my" sky. (Pixabay photo)



I hope you have a weekend with some awe in it. And if all else fails ....... go outside, and look up.

(Granted, some days there's going to be a big ol' mess of clouds in the way, but it's the principle of the thing, isn't it? And you've got a good imagination, don't you? Well, then!)






Monday, 21 August 2017

Poetry Monday (Just Under The Wire)

As Arnold used to say, in every movie he ever made, "I'M BA-A-A-ACK!!!"

It's Poetry Monday, and technically still on Monday!

If you haven't already checked out Diane's and Delores' poems, follow the links by clicking on their names.

If you'd like to leave a poem here, please do!

I really struggled with this week's theme. I started two poems, worked doggedly on them, and ended up with the most stilted, awkward, boring, lame verses ever in the history of poetry-writing. Then I gave up, licked my wounds for a day, and tried again.

I have to admit I went to a "rhymes with" website to get help. I should have called an ambulance while I was at it. This poem needs some CPR, stat!


Anatomy of a Meeting

Greetings!
Seating
(Eating)
Bleating
Repeating
Entreating
Retreating
Conceding
Completing
Un-seating
Fleeing
(And probably tweeting ...)


*****

Looking forward to next week, when the theme will be ... Eclipses of Life ... errrrr ... piece of pie, right? RIGHT??

Thanks for reading, folks!



Usually the best part of a meeting.

(Photo: Pixabay)

Now I want a chocolate eclair ...




This Meeting Has Been Postponed

It's Poetry Monday, with the theme of "meetings" ... but I have had a weekend of meetings that have left me brain dead and tired: meetings with stores where certain items had to be purchased; meetings with the mop, broom, cleaner, etc. to get ready for company; meetings with said company (a dear relative, which was the bright spot of the weekend); and meetings with the pavement - no, not by falling, rather by feet hitting the pavement for a daily walk. All in all, I'm pooped by all these meetings.

So ... my Poetry Monday will be delayed by a day.

Just so your click on this post wasn't a complete loss, there's this, which is a pretty good description of many days in my life:




Some day I plan to change that.

But not just yet. I need the exercise.

See you tomorrow :)


Friday, 18 August 2017

Black Cats, And One Black Cat Especially

Today: an update on our kitty.

He is doing well with our son; he settled in far faster than any of us expected. That is a huge load off my mind, and I'm glad we went ahead with the move, even though I still feel guilty that I wasn't able to give him the play time he needed to keep from being bored. But guilt didn't change the situation, so the situation needed changed some other way. And now it's been done.

This is the furry fellow who is now living with our son (picture taken about a year ago):

Like most cats, he likes boxes, especially if they are too small to really fit into.



And here he is again, about eighteen months ago:

He liked to sit on the arm of the chair while I used the computer



Our son just sent me this picture of him in his new digs; he looks pretty relaxed, don't you think?

It's notoriously difficult to photograph black cats. Hint: his head is on the right, his tail on the left.



When he emailed the photo, our son mentioned that yesterday was Black Cat Appreciation Day. I didn't know there was such a thing, but I give this idea a big thumbs up!

And from the internet, a good reminder:




I know that at least two readers here have black cats. And I think they might agree that while any cat is special, a mini-panther has a certain allure that can't be beat.

Hope you have a great weekend!


Monday, 14 August 2017

Mod Cons

It's Poetry Monday! I want to thank Diane from On the Alberta/Montana Border for the BEST THEME EVER: modern conveniences, also known as "mod cons" if you are British.

Diane, who started Poetry Monday, and Delores from Mumblings, and I are the three musketeers of this poetry challenge. But you can join us! You can post on your blog; if you do, please leave a link in the comments at any of our three blogs to allow readers to find you.

Or you can post a poem in the comments section of any of our blogs. It doesn't have to be original, and it doesn't have to follow the theme.

I like using the theme as a starting point because it narrows my focus enough to let ideas surface. Otherwise, there are just so many possible topics that I am overwhelmed.

Readers who have consumed much of Ogden Nash's poetry may recognize his style in this poem. I've been re-reading his works and they definitely influenced my writing this week. Sincere and abject apologies to Mr. Nash.

*****

I Heart My Toilet, Even If The Cat DID Fall In It Last Week*


There is one mod con in our house I cannot do without.
I have been places where there was none but those were dreadful times beyond any doubt.
The item in question is a flush toilet and it is the greatest invention ever --
Much better than a toaster or a furnace or a TV or even a coffee maker.
For when we need to "go" there is nothing better than "going"
In comfort, and even at times in style, with a lack of breeze blowing.
On occasion I have had to make do with an old-fashioned outhouse
With an indescribable ambience and the exciting possibility of a stray mouse.
There have also been a time or two when I have visited a Porta-Potty
But only out of sheer necessity, and I dearly hope that does not sound too snotty.
This modern convenience is so extremely important to me that
My nightmares involve looking and looking for one and not ever finding it.

You may wonder why I am so consumed with all things toilet and flushable.
Well, it is my "storage capacity" that is in fact both the culprit and culpable.
Whereas other people drink a glass of water and produce less than a glass of wee,
I drink a glass of water and inevitably produce three.
And if by chance I know there will be no flush toilet for me to access,
Then my one glass of water will somehow magically be transformed into six.
It has always been thus, and thus I think will ever be,
And that is why the flush toilet is the mod con dearest to me.

*****

(*If you missed that post, you can read it HERE. Check my replies to the comments to get some of the missing story.)

*****

The sign I most like to see when I am away from home.


Okay folks, time to spill the beans: what's the fanciest/strangest/most memorable toilet you've ever used? Don't be shy! Procrastinating Donkey would be fascinated to hear about it.



Friday, 11 August 2017

Frazzled On Friday, Part 2 Of Probably Many Parts

A short post today, because I'm frazzled, just like last Friday.

Yesterday started off on a different kind of note, with a cat falling in the toilet.

Then the smoke detectors started beeping and there was no fire.

Then I drove two hours to see my son and my ex-cat, another half an hour to see my daughter and her family (including two little grandsons!), and two hours home.

I'm pooped.

So icanhascheezburger.com is rescuing me AGAIN. Enjoy :)


Some of the best pictures happen by accident. Or course, some OTHER best pictures happen because the photographer has skills and talent ... but this is in the first category.




Maybe this is the photographer in the first photo.








Darn cats.




Yes. Sigh.




Husky has sarcasm down pat.




This little guy is "splooting" - right, Steve? (Steve introduced us to this word on his blog Shadows & Light, not long ago. It's what you call it when a dog lies with its back legs stretched out and belly on the ground. I couldn't wait to use this word!)




Better not let Mike near a credit card, either, or Poof!! goes the magnetic strip. Ask me how I know ...




This is me with my husband. I finish the page well before he does. But guess who remembers stuff better? That's right - HE DOES.




This joke never gets old for me. Or maybe I just keep forgetting it ...




These look suspiciously like the "two left cats" in the box from last week's Frazzled On Friday" post!


I hope everyone has a restful weekend, even if you have to sploot to really enjoy it.

And I REALLY SUPER EXTRA HOPE YOUR CAT (IF YOU HAVE ONE) DOESN'T FALL IN THE TOILET. Because it's very traumatic. And it's no fun for the cat either.