Here’s our prompt: “the last photo you took.” Take the last photo you snapped. What’s the first word that comes to mind when you look at it? That word is your prompt. Enjoy!
The last photo I took was…. No wait. What’s the word? It’s a toss up between, Fairy, and What, as in What is the title of this piece of art that I’ve been working on for the past year and a half?
It all started when David was making a cabinet to store more canned goods at the start of COVID. He brought home the door of the cabinet, and I said, “Wait a minute! Look at those angel wings!”
Here’s one section
Unfortunately, it’s a bit heavy, but I couldn’t let it just be a cabinet door. Here are some enhancements below inspired by the wood grain. I was looking at caladiums a lot. Then the owl just showed up.
This was maybe a year ago.
Well, it’s closer to being finished. It might even be finished. I don’t know. And I don’t know what to call it. Tree fairies and friends? Caladium Angels, Fairies and Friends? Any ideas? Here’s where it is now:
What’s the first word that comes to your mind?
I didn’t plan the painting much. Some things just emerged, like my Golden Boy, Jesse who’s in heaven. Maybe he’s hanging out with fairies and owls.
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For more streams of consciousness and rules, visit our host, Linda Hill at:
Here’s today’s interesting stream of consciousness prompt: “least-favorite word.” Use your least-favorite word in your post. If you can’t decide on one, use a word that just really bugs you. Enjoy!
Just one word?
There are plenty of words I don’t like. Maybe I’ll figure out my least favorite if I start rambling them off.
“Unbelievable!” is one my ex boyfriend used a lot. It got on my nerves, because I could believe things that were really cool. Unbelievable would be something like the pigs flying when they are not in heaven, because pigs go to heaven just like dogs. So if you see a pig flying, I mean really flying, you might be in heaven.
Impossible. No surprises there since my blog title is “Anything is possible.” My dad told me “Nothing is impossible,” when I was 12 and it stuck.
Tirelessly. I might have written about this before. Back when I worked in a stressful job with way too much paperwork, the boss gave a big speech at a banquet and talked about how we staff had been working “tirelessly.” But I was damn tired. If someone works tirelessly, they either haven’t worked very long, or they are on too much caffeine and will eventually burn out. Or at least need a rest. We’re human. We get tired. There’s a backlash going around about glamorizing overwork. Maybe I can find the meme. Be right back….
On the other hand, there’s this thing lately about having trouble finding people to work. We saw that on a sign the other night when we went out to a restaurant and someone didn’t show up for work. The sign said,
Be nice to our servers, we are short staffed. People don’t want to work.
There must be some kind of balance. A need to treat people with respect. Expect responsibility and work, but not 50 hours a week with no overtime.
I guess I got off on a tangent.
There’s still no male component for the word, “bitch,” is there? I mean, it’s a female dog, and that’s okay, but, well you know the issue with a male who exhibits the same behavior being praised, except not by me.
I knew I was forgetting something, so went to ask David what word I don’t like. He thought for a minute, then said, “always.” Yes. How could I forget about “always,” and “never,” and “everybody.” They are rarely true. Can you think of an example where always, never, or everybody is true?
Okay, If you’re telling someone to always look both ways before crossing the street, that’s good. But saying, politicians always lie – there’s no proof of that. I mean, surely they one might tell the truth, sometimes. There are always possibly exceptions.
They say it never rains in California, but it does, sometimes, and I’m praying it rains more. A steady, but moderate rain to quench the dry earth and put out the fires.
Just for the sake of balance, here are some of my favorite words,
Possibilities
Rainbow
Bliss
Peace
Hope
Maybe
May it be……
Today’s SoCS prompt is brought to us by our host, Linda Hill. Find out more at:
Today’s SoCS prompt is: “contains ‘igh.’” Find a word that contains the letters “igh” in that order and use it in your post. Enjoy!
The first thing that came to mind was, sigh. It’s a word that sometimes had a negative connotation, as in an expression of sadness, but it can be much more… healing even, as in a sigh of relief.
There was a sigh of relief when the house was quiet after my beloved grandchild was taken home by her parents. We had loads of fun going to the beach and the aquarium, watching the movie, Bumblebee, who is a VW Beatle who transforms into and autobot with a heart. Still, I am thankful that women have been designed, evolved, or whatever to not be able to have babies after a certain age. I can do a lot in bursts of energy, but my stamina is nothing like it used to be.
What else gives us a sigh of relief? I was writing in the family history about my dad retiring from 20 years in the corps. I bet there was a big sigh with that. And my own retirement after 30 years in the addiction/mental health field. How do I spell relief? RETIREMENT.
I will be relieved when the fire works are over. But how can you really be sure? Fireworks can be beautiful, and I love sparklers, but I worry about all the dogs who shiver in the corner or “escape” in terror and become lost. Then there are the veterans and others with PTSD. I’m sure some of them don’t mind fireworks, but I wonder how many? And people with autism being overstimulated. There is such a thing as silent/quiet fireworks. They’ve been used in other countries. If you an put a man on the moon, you can make quiet fireworks.
In yoga, we are sometimes encouraged to sigh with vocals, to take a deep breath and say, Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh on the exhale. The body hears that release and the relief is enhanced. That’s the theory anyway. I’m trying it now. Seems nice.
Sometimes a sigh is just a sigh, like a kiss is just a kiss. The fundamental things apply as time goes by.
But sometimes, a sigh is a good thing. I sigh when I get a massage. It helps me be mindful and really enjoy the release instead of thinking about my grocery list or some irrelevant imagining.
In most cases, a sigh is better than a scream. What might be even better is starting with a sigh and letting it turn into a laugh, then back into a sigh. Try it!
What brings you a sigh of relief?
There are all kinds of YouTube videos about yoga and sighing. Here’s a really short one by Laura Gentry who has a whole bunch of short videos on laughter yoga for commuters. They’re kinda silly and weird, but they’d keep me from falling asleep for sure. (Sigh.)
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For more streams of consciousness,
plus the ups, downs, ins, and outs of the SoCS rules, please visit out host, Linda Hill at:
“hat/het/hit/hot/hut.” Choose one, choose ’em all, put ’em in your post. Enjoy!
What? I don’t know. Hut is interesting from a Gilligan’s Island frame of mind. They had a good thing on that island. There’s a song in my head that goes, “Gilligan, take my advice. Don’t try so hard to escape paradise.” Maybe I’ll look for it later. Maybe not. In reality, I don’t know that I’d really want to live in a hut. Maybe if there was a nice bed with a good mattress, and a toilet, and toilet paper, and plenty of mosquito netting. A luxury hut. That might work.
I had to look up “het.” Come to find out, it is short for heterosexual. That’s me. I’m a het. I guess. Still, there’s a lot of what they used to call, “tomboy,” in me. When I was looking for a soulmate, while trying to not look and trying to be cynical, I figured that if I found someone who was compatible, someone who brought me comfort and joy and met my criteria, like loving dogs, being respectful, etc., it would not matter if the person was male or female. Logically, I still think that way. But I always imagined myself with a male partner, and that’s what I got. Imagination is powerful.
During the lonely years. I used to watch a lot of NCIS and found Gibbs to be more attractive over time. My husband does look a little like Gibbs, but taller. I’m grateful. So grateful. Step 5 in my short short book, From Loneliness to Love is, “Imagine the Best.” That doesn’t mean perfect, but perfect for what we need to grow and be happy. Reasonably happy.
Reasonably happy. Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The Pursuit of Happyness is a great movie for Father’s Day. It’s based on a true story of a homeless father, played by Will Smith, who with heartbreaking perseverance, eventually gets a job on wall street.
On June 19th, 1865, years after the Emancipation Proclamation, African Americans in Texas were finally informed they were free. They had the opportunity, knowing they had the right, to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Now, June 19th is a Federal holiday in the US. That’s good news for Good News Tuesday!
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Thank you to Linda Hill for our prompt and for hosting, SoCS! For more streams and rules, visit Linda’s blog:
When David and I dated in the 70s, our friend Caroline took us to the drive in movies so we could be “alone” in the back seat. We weren’t really alone, because Caroline was in the front seat, but she watched the movie, and we might have watched a little of the movie. Neither one of us drove yet. David was 15, and I was 16 and hadn’t gotten the confidence to get my license yet.
At the Drive In, (why do I capitalize that?) you pulled up to a pole with the metal speaker attached, then you put the speaker in the window and rolled the window up (with a handle) to hold the speaker in place. I saw a lot of movies at the Drive In. It was cheaper than going to the regular indoor movie. Maybe it was hot and buggy in the summer, but I don’t remember that. Sometimes we’d sit on the hood of the car, and sometimes we play on the playground in front of the big screen after the little kids went to bed in their parents’ cars. But it seems like there weren’t a lot family movies at the Drive In by the time I was a teenager. Things could get pretty wild at the Drive In once I was in my twenties. There was a lot of running back and forth between cars.
By the time I was in my late teens, I worked for a movie theatre chain so got in free. By that time David had moved back to Connecticut. Things were very different, less innocent. Not going to go into detail about that. Where’s that thing I saw on FB….
… and those over 60 might just forget.
It would probably be best to stop there as far as my personal adventures at the Drive In Movies. Oooh, but once they had an all night marathon of all the old Planet of the Apes movies. That was cool. it was probably one of the last times I went to the Drive In. I’ve heard they have been revived during the pandemic. It’s a good idea to have options and be able to take kids who could play and fall asleep in the back seat and maybe mom and dad would make out in the front seat. I wonder if my parents did that. Probably not so much since I was a night owl.
I remember going to see The Bird Man of Alcatraz at a Drive In as a kid with my parents in the front seat. It was a memorable movie. That must’ve been at a drive in on a military base in the 60s. Come to think of it, my older sister met her husband at a drive in. He was in the Marine Corps and worked at night as a projectionist at the base drive in movies. But that’s another story.
The Bird Man of Alcatraz was based on the true story of Robert Stroud (played by Burt Lancaster), a prisoner who befriended and studied birds to the point that he became and expert. I hope you can hear all of the video. Some audio has been stopping in the middle.
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Today’s prompt was: “drive.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
For move SoCS posts and rules, visit out wonderful host, Linda Hill at:
Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is:
“…to your left.” When you sit down to write your post, look to your left. What is the thing closest to you? Write about the memories that thing induces. Enjoy!
To my left is my phone, quietly charging, waiting for the next spam call. Or something better. I’ve recently started getting spam texts. Nothing like in the old days, when we only got an unwanted call if we listed our female names in the phone book. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
When I was a teenager in the 70s, we had one phone for the whole family. It hung on the kitchen wall – a yellow phone on a yellow wall. Most of my phone calls with boyfriends, including my first boyfriend who much later became my husband, took place at the kitchen table. It allowed for some privacy if you didn’t talk too loud. I remember my phone number was 347-5359. Before that, when I was a young child, we had a black phone that sat on a table. They all had rotary dials that went, click, click, click. I vaguely remember having a party line which meant sharing a phone line with someone – you had to take turns, not just with your own family members, but with the other party.
“Is this the party to whom I am speaking?”
That’s what Lily Tomlin said as Ernestine on Saturday Night Live, right? Nope. It was Laugh In.
Look what I found when I went looking for Ernestine: It’s so random, just like SoCS.
Some people didn’t even have phones when I was a teenager. But they could use phone booths. In England, don’t they call them call boxes? Has anyone seen a real phone booth lately? Where have all the phone booths gone? They could be dangerous though. Back in the sixties, or fifties, well, in the olden days, there was a thing to see how many people, usually college students, you could squeeze into a phone booth. Then there was The Matrix phone booth scene. Is the Matrix really that old?
In the 70s, we didn’t have an answering machine, voice mail, caller ID, or any of that stuff. We just had to take our chances. If someone was already talking to someone else, we got a busy signal – buzz, buzz, buzz. No personal computers, no remote controls (not in my house anyway) and only three TV channels that went off the air around midnight most nights, at least in the early 70s. But it was better than the two tin cans with a string tied between them. That never worked for me. I found out just now watching this video that it didn’t work because I didn’t have the string tight enough. Finnovation demonstrates what type of “string” works best. Bright kids!
We’re never too old to learn. Just because something doesn’t work the first time, doesn’t mean it won’t work. Sometimes we just have to keep trying different ways.
Oh, and I finally got back in a kayak, making sure not to take my phone just to be safe. The first two photos are my son out on the lake in the mountains. The last one is a photo he took of me in my new kayak which is blue, green, and purple. These days, I take all my photos with my phone. In the 70s I never would’ve imagined taking photos with a phone that you carry in your pocket.
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For more streamy streams of consciousness, and the rules, visit out host, Linda Hill, here:
Our Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “day/week/month/year.” Linda also invites us to write about the past year of pandemic, “how we have coped or not, to share our common experiences as a way to connect, to feel a little less alone.”
As a citizen of the United States, these past 12 months have been heavy, not just due to the pandemic, but also with the political divide and the racial injustice of the murders of George Floyd, Breaonna Taylor and others. It has been strange and confusing to have stay at home orders, masks and social distancing recommendations along with protests and demonstrations.
My hope is that with the pandemic calming down and someone less inflammatory at the helm, we can move into healing. It’s going to take a lot of work. A lot of compassion, listening, compromise, and seeking common ground… or higher ground.
I find myself feeling tired as I write this. There are bursts of energy when things get done, but maybe it’s a tired that comes with age. Still, my personal life has not been bad. I’m the oldest one in my family – my parents and siblings are deceased. Even Aunt Ruth in Wisconsin crossed over last year after a full life into her 90s. I am thankful not to have to worry about my parents anymore and feel for those who do. I am thankful to have the luxury of time and the freedom to study my father’s letters from Vietnam, and to write and paint.
Staying at home doesn’t bother me, except that I have not seen my granddaughter, son and daughter in law since October. I miss the mountains. It was in October that I last visited the mountains and first brought mama cat home from the church. She has kept me company when David is at his woodshop, and she has become much less feral.
Mama Cat has a plate of food. She wants attention while I’m trying to write.
Having a cat has been a big change after being a dog person for so long. The pandemic and people not being at church much was one of two factors that led me to bringing her home. The other factor was the abduction of her daughter, Gray, in June. I still go to the church once per week to see if Gray has shone up, but I don’t think this is likely. I talk to Saint Francis and pray my hopes and thanksgivings.
St. Francis with last year’s hydrangeas
Not going to church and choir practice is probably the biggest change in my personal life. We do zoom church and I’ve sung and played a little guitar for that, because music is my favorite part of church. My voice is way out of shape when it comes to singing anything challenging. My friend Anne, who is in her 80s and teaches singing, is helping me with that. I’m thankful to have had both vaccines, in spite of the side effects, I’m glad to have a little more confidence if I do want to go out. I’ll still wear a mask and avoid crowds.
Hopefully we won’t have as much to protest or demonstrate for or against for a while. Maybe things will calm down and justice will grow. Maybe we humans will wake up, bridge the divides, and focus on healing Mother Earth as we celebrate diversity in all it’s beauty and strength.
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Thank you to our host, Linda Hill for the consistency of SoCS through the year.
Today’s Stream of Consciousness prompt is “butter.”
We are not going to write about, wait, who’s we? Me and the cat? She’s not interested in writing. She just wants to cuddle since she hid most of the day yesterday in the bedroom where maybe she was trapped. I don’t know. But I don’t want to write about the first thing that popped into my head, the butter in the refrigerator and object of my cheating in my endeavors to be vegan for lent. I’d rather write about the second thing that popped into my head:
Buttercup!
Photo of buttercups my daughter, Ayla, took in the mountains
Then, I thought of Princess Buttercup in The Princess Bride and found this commentary about how she is not just a typical, helpless, fairy tale princess. She is not in love with the prince. She loves to ride her horse. It made me like her more. I didn’t realize until recently that the same woman who played Princess Buttercup, played Jenny in Forest Gump. Back to the commentary.
Horses and freedom. My horse phase was more than a phase. I actually had my own horse in my twenties. I miss horses. And the beach. But there’s no reason I know of that we can’t go back to the things we love in some way or other – if it’s meant to be, we will find a way. Trust the Timing.
Spring is coming. With buttercups!
That was way more fun that writing about my awful side effects from Moderna 1 and 2. But that is over and done with, and I’m very glad. I survived, and I’m thankful for my strong immune reaction.
Buttercups! Daisies! Roses! Orchids!
Check out the orchids and other flowers blooming in time lapse from Nat Geo! They even have fairy tale like music to go with the images of Princess Bride riding her horse. That’s my stream of consciousness for this Saturday.
But wait!
I forgot all about sharing that commercial where they sing the buttercup song. Can I have three videos in one post? Let’s see! I’m not promoting the product. I just love TV commercials that use old songs like this. I’d totally be singing with her if I was in the store. It doesn’t matter that the lyrics are sorta sad. It’s got a good beat and it’s easy to sing to.
For more on Stream of Consciousness Saturday, like rules and stuff, visit our host, Linda Hill at the link below!
Today’s SoCS prompt is to use a word ending in sty. First I thought of the word, fantasy, but that doesn’t work. I had to look up words that end in sty. The first one I liked was, “misty.” That lead me to the Misty Mountains and this story….
What have I gotten myself into? Elya wondered if she should just go back the way she came. But she couldn’t take another day, another night, at the Prancing Pony. She was too old to be working in a pub. If only her husband Dane were still alive, she would never have had to take that job. Her horse seemed to keep plodding along as if knowing something better lay ahead.
Elya had heard stories about a beautiful place called Rivendell. It was east of Bree, somewhere near the misty mountains. It sounded magical, a place with elves. She knew she never really belonged in Bree. If they really knew her mind, they would think her a witch. But she was just different. Swallowing with nothing to swallow, she let her horse lead the way. She had come to trust her beast and companion over the years. Would there be monsters along the road? Would they be there by nightfall? She nudged her friend further.
As darkness fell, she fought back the panic and found a place off the main road, almost a hideaway, under a willow tree for them to stop for the night. She ate the last of her bread and found cool water from a stream, then hummed quietly to herself needing to sleep, but too afraid. Somehow she drifted off.
The sunlight woke her and she gave thanks that she had not perished at some strange sword. She had kept the knife close and was glad she didn’t need it. Onward they went, eastward until they found a path off the road late in the afternoon. She didn’t know why she took it, something told her it was the way. After a time, a view opened up. The misty mountains were to her right. The air smelled different. The path had seemed to disappear, but there was something, a beam of light, directing her left. Just north of the mountains, the path became more twisty with rises and falls. She could barely see a path.
Elya dismounted and walked leading her horse. The sun was behind her now. She stumbled, then stood and took a breath. Light shown through the trees ahead. A few more steps, then she saw it, bathed in golden light. Rivendell! It had to be! Below her was a stream, and across the stream, paths that led up the hills to the beautiful castle doorways set among the waterfalls.
Would they accept her? Would they understand how much she longed to belong in a place of beauty and peace? She patted her horse and headed down to cross the stream.
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You’ve probably heard “Misty Mountains Cold” droned by the dwarves in The Hobbit. Here’s an instrumental version on an ocarina:
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For more info on Stream of Consciousness Saturday, visit our host, Linda Hill at:
The prompt: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “nerve.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
The first thing that popped into my head was the expression, “You’re about to get on my last nerve.” It isn’t exactly logical, but it’s fun to say. One thing that gets on my nerves, is when someone posts something that suggests a correlation is a cause, like the meme I just saw that had a photo of gas prices in November and gas prices in January with the heading/comment: “Biden’s America.”
To my credit, I did not try to engage in debate, but neither did I pass it by and ignore it, which is sometimes the best thing to do. Here’s my comment:
“In statistics class, we learned that correlation does not necessarily mean cause. There are likely other variables/factors to be considered.”
I do not need to engage in any further discussion that would irritate my nerves. This is why I try not to scroll on FB. I actually want to reduce my time on FB, but every now and then, these things come up. Then I was happy to be able to like and love some photos of her grand daughter.
I’m in training. Besides having a personal (exercise) trainer, I am in training to “practice peace that overpowers darkness.” I know that sounds somewhat presumptuous, but it is practice. I don’t always get it right, especially when things get on my nerves. This idea for peace training comes from the February 11 reading from the daily meditation book, Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. I certainly can’t do this practice on my own. But if I connect with the guidance and strength of Jesus and my Creator, I can do my part.
“Nerve” can be used in so many ways: nervous energy, nerves of steel, a bundle of nerves, “You’ve got a lot of nerve!” Then there’s the nerve cells I learned about in college with axons, dendrites, synapses, and all that fading knowledge that I don’t use much, though it could be helpful in cellular imagery for the purpose of meditative healings…..
Where was I going with this? There was something I didn’t want to forget. Oh, in college – The Psychology of Consciousness, all those years ago, was my favorite class. I do recall the dominant theory of dreams being that our sleeping dreams are created by random nerve cells firing while we sleep. But what part of us assigns meaning? And what meanings that mean something important? Though maybe sometimes, they are just random, like the stream of consciousness. But is it really random? There is also a not so dominant theory that when we have a deja vu, we are experiencing something we dreamed since we dream so much that we don’t remember. I mentioned this in my college class. The professor was not impressed. But hey, anything is possible.
The “cowardly lion” in the Wizard of Oz, didn’t believe he had much nerve. But he really did. Or at least he found it.
And Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man that he didn’t already have.
