Saturday, December 6, 2014

A True Story

When I first started this blog I wrote a fanciful post about my dogs playing on my computer while I was at work, and while they had the run of the house.

It was fantasy, but the following is not.

The other morning  I went to the kitchen, and I left my computer open to some opinion site.

I made my coffee, but was startled to hear loud,bouncy, tinny music coming from my work room. I assumed it was some ad that had come on.

But when I went to check, I found the Ragdoll kitten horde I now am stuck with wandering around on the desk my computer sits on.

Bored with catnip mice and squeaky toys, tired of shredding the couch, they had gone online and typed in Youtube.

And what had they chosen to watch?

"Everything is Awesome", an animated music video from "The Lego Movie". I would post it here, but I fear I might violate copyright law and end up in federal prison.

"The Lego Movie".

So much for feline discrimination and good taste. But then they are just kittens.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

The Beagle Sonnet- A poem in Fourteen Ridiculous Lines,

Which give new meaning to the word "doggerel"!






A nose with four legs defines a beagle.

And though his lineage is regal,

(Elizabeth 1 kept a slew),

This might not be the dog for you.

For a beagle's hearing is selective.

He hears only what he wants to hear,

And drives his owner to curses and invective.

A beagle does only what he wants to do.

Caring nothing for what's convenient for you-

He wants only to sniff, and sleep, and snack.

Nirvana for him is a rabbit's track.

And pity the owner, trapped in a car,

Who drives by the verge where the rabbits are,

And has his ears blistered by yowl and roar.
















Thursday, November 6, 2014

Seen Today in Southwest Nashville

Confined in my auto wanderings by lack of money, I try to keep an eye on the unusual and the bizarre close to home.

Interesting things are everywhere , if one takes the time to look.

Message on a bumper sticker on a late model smallish white car I noticed in the Bellevue Kroger parking lot-

"BILLY JACK'S TATTOOS. NOT JUST FOR SAILORS AND WHORES ANYMORE!"

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

One Of These Old Politicians is a Dead Ringer For A Guess What!

I saw this picture, and while I have no interest in the man on the far left or the one on the right, I am struck by the one in the middle.

Now John McCain and whoever the other guy is may have evolved from ape like ancestors, but it is clear to me that Mitch O'Connell has descended from Box Turtles! What a striking resemblance!



Monday, October 27, 2014

The Last of Their Kind?


 When I saw this Monarch butterfly at the garden in Green Hills, I took these photos, for the way the Sixth Great Extinction is progressing, there may be no monarchs next year. I have seen only three this year, whereas ten years ago as I drove over the causeway from the mainland to St. George Island ,Florida, I saw thousands drifting out over the bridge and the sea.











Saturday, October 25, 2014

"My Old Dexterities in Witchery Gone-"

"And nothing left for Love to look upon".

So wrote Thomas Hardy in his poem "She, To Him" Part 111.

Time has robbed the woman speaking in this poem. She has grown old and lost her claim to the attentions of men. The "witchery" that charmed is gone. Hers is the fate of women whose currency, whose capital, is their face and figure.

This, and several other poems came to mind when I saw the stories and photos of the actress Renee Zellweiger, who had such radical plastic surgery that she now looks like someone headed into Witness Protection. Trying to stay youthful  to stay employable, she has now achieved neither. Had she accepted the inevitable, she might have become a character actress. Instead she can join the dozens of actresses of indeterminate age who compete to play district attorneys and coroners on TV crime shows.

Growing old is a pain to any woman. Here is the poet Louise Bogan. The poem is "The Crows"., and these are the first two stanzas.


"The woman who has grown old

And knows desire must die

Yet turns to love again

Hears the crows' cry.



She is a stem long hardened

A weed that no scythe mows

The heart's laughter will be to her

The crying of the crows,"



Robert Frost is no more cheerful, and in his poem "Provide, Provide", describes the afflictions of aging for both men and women-

"The witch that came(the withered hag)

To wash the steps with pail and rag

Was once the beauty Abishag.



The picture pride of Hollywood.

Too many fall from great and good

For you to doubt the likelihood."


The fall may not be so steep for those of us more ordinary,who have been spared celebrity or flagrant romance in our youth. The best we can say about our looks is they never counted for much, yet we got by without them.

At 64, I care little for how my face and neck look or that I am a size 14 aiming for a 16. I am happy that I can still walk and see and work.

Youth was a mask, and I am glad to have it off.

Now if I could just get rid of the pain in my hip that comes when I sit down to write.
But having no illusions, I will just have to endure it, and count my blessings-












Thursday, October 16, 2014

The Night Blooming Cereus

Though the cereus is sometimes ever blooming, mine blooms in autumn. The blossoms, that mimic the lotus, last only 12 hours over night, and I was lucky to get these photos.

When frost comes, it comes inside to sulk until spring. I bought mine from Logee's Greenhouses.

It is a big plant, and can throw out 6 foot canes, though it can be tamed with shears. I have seen pictures of it used in bedding schemes, but of course that was in the tropics.

It is very fragrant!