August Already?

The last year was long and, sometimes, brutal. Thank goodness there was some fun and happiness mixed in with the tough stuff. Trying to start writing again but it's like push-starting a car up a cliff. 

My mother will be 90 next month, shown here with her posse.

I spend time with royalty.

He took after his grandma and is a very cool guy.

But he dressed up for the wedding and made a new friend. 

Ring-a-Ding Ding. It's Spring!

Frank Sinatra's album: Ring-a-Ding Ding shouldn't be confused with the song: My Ding-a-LIng by Chuck Berry. Neither should spring be confused with some sort of a pastoral version of the season.

There are lots of flowers and green grass, eggs hatching in nests, and tiny little calves adorning the fields around Longmont. There was also flooding, hail, freezing temperatures, heavy snow, pouring rain, and tornados...all on Saturday.

This is a wet rabbit having a snack in some landscaping.

I just tried to take an online class about writing poetry. The title of this blog is an example of my new prowess as a poet. I found it to be utterly impossible to read about poetry, much less try to compose a poem, while watching my adorable grandchildren. I try to find inspiration in nature but the rabbit in the photo just made me kind of hungry for something with a nice mustard sauce and some fava beans.

Ring-a-Ding Ding it's spring.

My Little Pony: Better Than Frozen

We are in the middle of a My Little Pony craze in my world. Ponies, accessories, puzzles, books, and lots of information about ponies and their society. Obvious to anyone who knows me, I prefer ponies to princesses although, paradoxically, many ponies are royalty.

We went to visit a friend in Boulder yesterday and ran into a store to buy her some easy meals for after her surgery. As my granddaughter and I drove into the parking lot, she was telling me how she was going to paint her (future) car because she can paint her own car any way she'd like, when we saw a special car.

If you can't see all the details, the car is decorated with mostly ponies, but Skeletor is there, Hello Kitty, monsters, and more. There is a green pony glued to the gas cap door and it goes on.  I'm glad that Frozen is not in the spotlight any longer. At least until the next movie comes out.

Philip K. Dick

Philip K. Dick, most often known for his book Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, once said, "Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away."

I saw my neighbor, who was walking home from the coffee shop, with Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? in his hand.  He told me that Philip K. Dick is buried in Ft. Morgan, CO next to Dick's twin sister, Jane, who died when 6 weeks old. The phantom twin is a recurring motif in some of his books.

This is some kind of contraption I found along a riverbank near Ft. Morgan.

The Last Days of Winter

We are cruising through the last days of winter. It gives me a wonderful boost to know that the ice and snow are almost behind us. Not that spring snowstorms are any pleasure, except to look at. Still, flowers are blooming already (too early!) and the horse is shedding his old coat, fields are greening up with sweet, new grass.

Such long time since I've written any fiction. Nothing to do with the picture, except I like this blue hen. I think she has such a hopeful expression. I thought of a new scene for the book I haven't worked on since last fall, but thinking about it isn't going to count.

I try to transition into winter as gracefully as my old bones will allow, but winter is when most bad things happen- at least in my family. Oh, I have all the rational excuses about my burgeoning superstition. I hate to waste summer days on doctor visits so I cram all the torture into the winter months, thus more serious diagnoses in the winter. Et cetera and so it goes.

This Friday is when the spring equinox occurs. 4:45 PM. The sun will be shining on the celestial equator, traveling from south to north. Another winter passes into the records book.

Bukowski Quote

"Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must live."

Charles Bukowski

Parenthood

Elizabeth Lesser writes:

"Parenthood is a never-ending journey down a wide river of worry and love. You get in that boat with your kids and you never get out. They get out- they build their own boats and row into their own destinies-but you stay in the original boat, always their parent, forever caring and forever kevelling (a useful Yiddish word that describes how parents express pride in their children)......If your spiritual goal is to embrace life, moment by moment, in both its rapture and its pain, then parenting offers you that opportunity every day."

Parenthood is both an art as well as a craft.