EVENING VISITOR

Last evening I left food for Leo the cat on the deck since he wanted to spend the night outside.  It wasn't ten minutes before I saw a strange black and white visitor at his bowl.

A juvenile member of the Skunk Posse which roams about our neighborhood

helps himself to a snack.

He checked out the water bowl too.

And then, he went back to the food bowl.

Finally, he was ready for his closeup, Mr. DeMille.

Not much later, the skunk was gone and a perky red fox was bounding around the yard.  He looked at me and I made mean noises and he decided to scram, bounding all the way.  Nobody knows what awaits us tonight!

PARTIAL NUDE BY THE FOUNTAIN

As beautiful as she was, there was the thought that she seemed posed and it occurred to me that this was a session between artist and model.  And we are to believe that this occurred naturally?  What common sense would preclude that this occurred in nature? Cooling off on a hot day? Painter excluded, we are left with the specter of a lady cooling her tits and nothing else?

Please know that we are not without pity for her plight, whatever it was.

Sweet Summer, 1912, John William Waterhouse

From magpietales

My garden begins producing.

The Cleome bloom in the evening cool.

The squash and green beans grow. 

WHILE I WAS AWAY

Lately I have been busy putting in my garden, a task which requires me to work a little, rest a little, and take twice as much time as I did in my twenties.

Here we have yellow squash and string beans.

This year I added container strawberries and everbearing strawberries to my June bearing strawberries.

Container strawberries need less space and send our fewer new runner plants.

They are firm and yummy.

The cuttings I took from CBW's beautiful bush are blooming now.

There are flowers in pots too.

Tomatoes, peppers, basil, cilantro, and cucumbers.

Roses bloom...

The view is fantastic...

Basically I am a happy woman.

LAST RESPECTS

Last night Husband went to see the family and friends of a former member of his band, who just passed away.  As he had me turn down his collar and button his shirt, I couldn't help noticing the back of his undershirt showed through his dress shirt.  When he turned around, his shirt proudly displayed a Jolly Roger emblem, pretty avant-garde for a funeral thing.  "Not to worry," he reassured me. "I won't take off my jacket."  "That's good," I rejoiced, "the last thing grieving people will be expecting is an assault by pirates; however it won't prevent that necktie from overpowering your whole life."  Apparently it was one left over from the 70's, when ties were HUGE and LOUD.  I think Emmet Kelly wore one like it when he was with Ringling Brothers. All he needed was the over-sized shoes to complete the ensemble.   Obviously finding anything but jeans and t-shirts is difficult at our house.

Given this choice, I chose the lower one.  How was I

to know the knot would be bigger than

a softball?

As he toddled off both sad and sadly-dressed to say a final goodbye to his old friend, it was a relief to know his band buddy would miss his fashion faux pas.  This now deceased friend had once taken a spill on his motorcycle and kept the crease in his jeans.  On the other hand he might have enjoyed his dress-challenged pal.

We walk around like this all the time.  There ought to be a law.

HOW EASTER BEGAN

Feast in the House of Simon, 1610, El Greco

And he said, "Taffeta is in this season representing the splendid colors of the Spring Solstice.  And there shall be much money spent on clothes and hats and matching shoes. Beauty parlors shall curl and snip and dye and bleach.  Much money.  And there will be ham.  All the children shall find joy in the form of a bountiful basket of Easter Eggs brought by a selfless and benevolent rabbit, the  Easter Bunny.  What better way to commemorate the bestowing of eternal life and exoneration from the sins of mankind!"


magpietales.blogspot.com

A TALE OF TWO FURNACES

It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.  It was an ergonomic train wreck, a simultaneous convergence of sad circumstances despoiling our home-heating utopia.  It was the face-off between the voracious wood-burning outdoor furnace and the indoor oil glutton.  In the middle stood a man for all seasons, mostly winter, who had hewn and split food for the former and kept on a diet the latter.

The wood furnace who got us through the winter

after eating every stick of wood in Mathews

Last night I returned to bed and heard him rise and proclaim, "You don't even know when the furnace is out."  Indeed I did not, but had I known I would have still gone to bed and accepted his put-down as some distorted form of "goodnight."

Unknown to me, he had disconnected the wood furnace and flipped the switch on the oil burner, who leaped with relish upon his first opportunity to show Husband his resentment by clogging up and sputtering out.  At 8 AM, I hear husband fussing in the kitchen about having to make a trip in the seafood truck, "...and I'm out of wood, and the @#$%*!* oil furnace is broken down, and I don't care!"

"Good Morning and have fun!," I sang out like a canary in a coal mine.  The dismal cloud followed Husband to the car and soon they were out of sight.

Oil Furnace having jealousy issues.

As I had my first cup of decaf, I felt a little like Oil Furnace, amused at the whole matter, and even a little satisfied.  Neither of us was informed by Husband before he installed the "Backyard Bimbo," as Oil Furnace dubbed him.  Neither of us deliberately engaged sabotage, but do see the a little bit of "go around, come around" here.

On the next try, Oil Furnace blasted forth heat and saved the day.  All is forgiven.

ANOTHER DREAM

I am in a hallway with another person, when a tall thin young man with a long pointed knife comes at us to do us harm.  I struggle for the knife and wrestle it away, stabbing him in the back; and he bleeds and dies.  From then on I am regarded an unlikely heroine, saving both the other person and myself from horrible slashing.

I go into action sparing my friend and myself by plunging the knife in.

Immediately I begin crying for the life I ended and must apologize to his neighbors, a group of belligerent low-brows who endlessly laud the dead man's attributes and see me as murderer.

At last they are persuaded by my genuine sorrow over the matter and we part with hugs.

Next moment I am off to the carnival and contest others in a parachute jump, the first person to the bottom being the winner.  I shoot down like a rock stopping in a timely fashion to spare broken legs and I win.

I plummet like a rock to the bottom

However I am disqualified for not registering first.

Damn you, administrative red tape!