Have You Ever Gotten A Song Stuck In Your Head . . . And. It. Just. Won't. Go. Away?

A New Tribute To Old Masters . . .

by

Freddy Fabris

{Source: deMilked dot com}

Kilt Monday!

'Cause let's face it,

Mondays can be so rough, hard, difficult.

I Tried To Take A Yoga Class Once. It Was Exactly Like This.

I Wish I Had Known These Things When I Was Young

Late, Again!

The Peace of Wild Things

 - Wendell Berry

 

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

 

from: Collected Poems 1957-1982. Copyright 1998.

Kilt Monday!

'Cause let's face it,

Mondays can be so rough, hard, difficult.

Cat's Dream

 - Pablo Neruda

How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings-
a series of burnt circles-
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.

from: Extravagaria. Alastair Reid, Translator. Copyright 2001.

Books, Then, Are A Light That Can Dispel the Darkness Of Ignorance

It's A Garden Party - Still Getting Ready For Winter

This feature, originally known as Saturday Farmer's Market, was created by Heather at Capricious Reader, and then hosted by Chris at Stuff as Dreams are Made on.

Gardening is a matter of your enthusiasm holding up

until your back gets used to it.

                                                                                                                    ~ Author Unknown.

This quote is usually the first one that comes to my mind each spring. However, this fall has seen more crises and necessary grunt work than most springs.

This is the awful mess I've made of my front garden. I told you about it last week.

The displaced Lavender plants look gangly and misshapen, the yard, ugly in its weed cloth shroud.

I'm sure my neighbors are beside themselves with joy.

If you can imagine the entire yard between plants covered in pea gravel and the plants lushly filled in and blooming . . .

This pinwheel used to be a beautiful and fruitful Pomegranate tree.

It was the first of our fruit trees to give fruit, and the jam I made from it was incredible.

Shall we have a moment of silence . . .

This is the larger of my two Plum trees. You can't see the damage in this picture, but it is in severe stress.

The neighbor's sprinkler system is still leaking and the soil around my trees pegs my moisture meter.

I informed the neighbors, and they informed their landlord. I informed the folks in charge of water issues and they said that they would take care of it.

It's beginning to look like I might lose all my trees before this is dealt with.


On the bright side, to the left is the Bougainvillea that I was sure hadn't survived the winter frost. It was a brown stick until summer was well under way, but it caught up nicely.

Next to it is a flowering Grass that I planted last spring. It, too, has been growing enthusiastically.

Past the cooler you can see the Banana plants. If we don't have bad frosts, I might have actual bananas.

Here's another view of the Banana plants. If nothing else they are good shade and insulation.

If you look closely you can see our babies behind the gate.

On the right is Petunia, our four year old Boxer. And on the left is the newest member of the family, a rescue from the high kill shelter in our area.

He is a Chocolate Sheprador named Rocket! And the '!' is an important part of his name.





Pieces of the Black Walnut tree that we had to take out about ten years ago have helped to warm and ground the garden. This is a small bench & spot for my tea cup, backed by the Florabundas.

Here are a couple more views of the Roses.

 

This is the bench as seen from the back side.

Floribundas & Grandifloras

Grandifloras & Floribundas

To Autumn
- William Blake

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain’d
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

“The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.

“The spirits of the air live in the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

Actually, Some Folks Use the Banned Books List As a Recommended Reading List

I'll Just Leave This Here.

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