Archive | August 2017

Swapped Squash Sleuthing

I was given a squash plant at a plant swap, purportedly a butternut, but as its fruit began to form, it clearly was not a butternut.  It somewhat resembled a watermelon.  I hope it is not a gourd.  Some people do grow gourds but I would rather have something edible.  Ah!  Perplexity.  What is it?  […]

Lions and Pigeons

Does anyone need an opening phrase for a never-ending saga ?

“She noticed it was dirty.”

How could a simple idea like “clean that Vélux” turn into such an undertaking!  I considered writing heavy undertaking or enormous undertaking or even just big, but decided to do limited exaggeration.  Does that exist or is it an oxymoron?  In any case I warned myself that the next passing pigeon would bring the window out of its semi-pristine state, semi-, because who can claim to make an over 30 years old skylight like new?  Upstairs, downstairs, rub, rub, rub, scrape, rub some more…

I think my shoulder gave up a half-life to the cause.  Or did I do something yesterday?  Oh, yes, I was waving a hedge cutter above my head in a vain attempt to dompter shrubbery originally intended to just go natural and act as a windbreak, but now risks blocking the sun from the persimmon tree we planted later.  Dompter is what lion tamers do.  Back, back, eleagnus and photinia.  May the sun shine on the persimmon tree and into our bedroom.

 

The unfinished trimming—maybe with a lopper?

 

I felt rewarded when I went to the store and discovered my latest vice was back in stock after several months of absence.

There’ll be some crunching in the old house tonight.

La, la, la…..

Painting and more

Yesterday I went to a contest called Plumes et Pinceaux.  In addition to several art categories, there was one for writing.  This hollyhock inspired me.

 

La Rose Trémière

En passant la riche couleur

          de tes fleurs

          attire mon regard

Rouge soutenue, presque noir

Au bord du trottoir.

Je plonge, je rêve,

          le désire d’avoir

          m’effleure l’esprit.

Peu importe ta branche cassée,

          jaunie,

Tu ne demande pas beaucoup de place

          ni terre fertile,

Tu resplendis tout simplement

          Pour la joie du passant.

 

It was risky for me to write in French unarmed so to speak, no computer, no dictionary, but when I typed it up last night WORD only found two errors. That does not mean there aren’t more.

 

And my painting:

#placetopaint