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Saturday, August 13, 2022

From An Afternoon Walk - Flower Hopping



This little guy bumbled 

from one flower to the other ~

no time for a photo-op. 


Hungry, hungry!

This fuzzy, buzzy fellow 

ignored me and kept moving on.











“Everything takes time. Bees have to move very fast to stay still.”

~ David Foster Wallace, Brief Interview with Hideous Men





 

Friday, August 12, 2022

A Low and Slow Kinda Day

Layin' Down on the Job

Early morning?

Cranky and Restless


Stay where my feet are ~

Slowin' routine always helps….


Takin’ my time

Makin’ sure to wash my face


Out to lunch with laughter

A friend always helps….


Home again, home again

Still stayin’ where my feet are


Takin’ it low and slow

Always a gentler road to take.….


“Wisely and slowly; they stumble that run fast.”

~ Hugh Howey, Wool Omnibus











Thursday, August 11, 2022

In the Coffee Shop - Don’t Stare!

I like writing in coffee shops. It’s not that I like eaves dropping; the soothing sound of friends visiting is part of my writing practice. Today was no different. When I leave my home to do an errand, get groceries or go to some kind of an appointment I often have my journal and at least one pen with me. After my activity of the day is complete, I find the nearest coffee shop, get my usual 1/2 caff. Latte with oat milk and a treat. Today it was a small lunch as I wouldn’t be home for a while. 

Becoming aware of my surroundings, touching them in my mind and describing them in my journal is not the easiest of tasks. Growing up I learned to do the exact opposite, except maybe being aware of my surroundings. But to write about real people still makes me uncomfortable to a degree. Oh, and ‘don’t stare’. That really is important. I suspect I'd be kicked out of coffee shops if that were the case.


I will tell you some of what my coffee shop foray was today. Only two women in the same area as the one I chose. Greying hair, slender, casually dressed. They were playing cards, I think it was cribbage. There was another woman, white hair, neatly dressed, sitting alone until, while I was finishing my scone, she was joined by three others. Voices clear, their conversation was about the recent visit by the Pope. The range of ages would be late 50’s to mid 70’s. My guess only. Lastly, two other people sat at the table beside me. Mid 50’s possibility, a man and a woman. Both slender people. 


Learning the art of describing facial features, for instance, is part of these lessons and needs lots of work. I could look at my own face in the mirror, but that there’s not much variety there. The characters that inhabit stories and novels are in need such variety. Each real person has their own story. I have a long way to go, but as long as there are coffee shops and restaurants, public parks and shopping malls I will be able to see and hear the grand variety of humanity. I just need to tailor my childhood lessons to respect others and to learn the nuances of my fellow humans.


“Sitting there in the coffee house, I saw so many stories 

behind the lips of people who had left them untold.”

~ Lidia Longioro, Hey Humanity



Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Chapter Two, Episode Ninety-Six - Finding Each Other - Situationally Theirs

“She was all gussied up!”


Samuel had just brought in the next load of tomatoes from the Estate garden. Cook was having trouble keeping up. “Who was all gussied up, Samuel? Put those on the table. I’ll have to get to them later. They’ll be just fine there.” She dried her hands on her apron. “What am I going to do with them all? One end of the freezer’s full, I’ve canned sixty quarts of tomatoes, and there a bin-full of fresh ones in the fridge - both of them. The pantry and here in the kitchen. I hope you have some for yourself? ~ and Martha……” Cook ran out of breath. She supposed her next big cook would be tomato sauce. There just wasn’t enough people around the old place to use them all up. She wiped her face with the stained hand towel she kept handy. “Now, tell me, Samuel about this gussied up person.” Cook sat down with her tea gone cold. Samuel grunted “I would if you’d let me get a word in edgewise, Elizabeth.


“All right. I’m listening.” Samuel pushed one box of tomatoes over and sat down. “Miss Dez. Hair all shiny and a different colour ~ with stripes. Long sparkly finger nails. Face all made up like she was going on the town. ……Is there any coffee?” Before Cook could answer, he was up at the coffee machine muttering… ‘new fangled darn thing, but it makes good coffee.’


“How did you know it was Miss Dez if she looked like that?” Cook thought he was probably seeing things. He was always mistaking people for others. “She came out of one of those fancy places and went straight to her little red car. Hightailed it out of there like someone was chasing her.” With coffee and some cookies he’d found in the cupboard, he sat down again. 


“Well, she could have lent her car to someone else. What kind of a fancy place did she come out of?” Samuel thought a minute. “You know. Where women get fancy hairdos. Go in looking like a thundercloud; come out all smiles. I called to her, but she was in such a hurry, she didn’t hear me.” Cook was smiling. “Why Samuel Forrester. I didn’t know you paid such close attention to women and spas ~ that is the ‘fancy place’ she left, wasn’t it?” Samuel almost blushed at Cook’s suggestion but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.


Crunching gravel signalled a car pulling up. Shortly the back door opened and closed. “Miss Em? Is that you?” 


“Yes Cook, I’ve just come from town and I think I can help you with…….” She hesitated when she saw Samuel and his tomatoes……. “the tomato deluge we have. But, first, I have a question. Has my sister been out here at anytime when I’ve been out? I can’t seem to get in contact with her.” 


Cook and Samuel looked at each other. They shook their heads in unison. “We’ve not seen her at all.” Samuel added “thought that was strange, but we’ve both been pretty busy.”


As they talked, Emelina took out her cell phone and dialled Matt’s number. “I still have it in here from when he was assisting Dez with the orchard.” Holding it to her ear for a moment, she listened. “Matt, this is Emelina Crawford-Beaufort. Please return my call when you get back. I am looking for my sister.” She sighed, touched the ‘stop’ icon. “Only a message. Matt is away until next week and will ‘return my call’. I am worried.”


Samuel hesitated. Elizabeth nodded to him and whispered “Tell her that you think you saw her.” He stood up. “Miss Em?” Nervous, he cleared his throat. “Yes, Samuel?” Distracted with worry, Emelina barely heard him. “Ma’am, I think I saw her.” 


“You did? Where? Samuel please tell me.”


“Don’t know the name of the place, but it’s in Hartley.” Elizabeth interrupted. “Tell her what you told me, Samuel. She may be able to tell you the name and know where it is.”


“Yes, tell me Samuel! I really must find her. If she wants me to leave her alone, I will but I have to know she is all right.”


~~~~~


Dez was at the end of her workweek and the end of her rope. “How do I take care of all this?” Looking in her mirror, her hair looked foreign to her. “I can’t just wash it and run my fingers through it, let it dry on its own. If I break a nail how do I fix it - maybe I’ll just cut them all off. That’s what I’ll do. Drip dry hair and cut my nails off. They’ll have to fix me up again on Tuesday. I’ll ask for a new hair style……..but right now, I’m exhausted.” 


An hour later, after eating leftovers from when, she couldn't remember, a hot shower, Dez settled into her bed. As she was falling asleep she mumbled “Maybe Em will help.


“Everything that happens to you matters to me.”

~ Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels




 

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

On an Afternoon Walk - Back Alley Art Gallery






my eyes spied 

brilliant and beautiful hollyhocks, busy with bees and wild-ing on brick backed buildings among wandering weeds, fronting graffitied brick


Artwork from amateur to amazing ~ flashing bright, weirdly whimsical and one a bit scary!



At night, while the city sleeps
alleys are busy with phantom artists 

decorating straight and stolid buildings, 

hidden away in these dumpster galleries; 

brilliance and beauty ignored, 

neglected and invisible except when trash is taken out.





“Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.”

~ Banksy




 

Monday, August 8, 2022

Squirrel Chatter

 

Nerds? Are they ever without a camera?! I wasn't even posing; she just about caught me! But I scampered ~ that is the word those two legged things say ~ down from a really good branch. I had spied a rather juicy morsel and I just had to get to it before any of my buddies did. I was really more interested in food than if I was presented on Facebook. 


“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to be 

a squirrel any more. I’d rather be a bird!”

~ Erin Hunter, Moonrise


Sunday, August 7, 2022

Activism



Over the top belief ~

Is there really such a thing?


Definitely!

A wrong to be righted


Activism born ~

Speaking out and living loud


Social norms

Reshaped to fit the need


Over the top belief ~

Is there really such a thing?


“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, 

Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

~ Dr. Seuss, The Lorax