Once again, for Veterans Day I wish there weren't any

I'm sick of the lie of war. The reason is always the same. The result is always the same. For all our sakes, but especially for theirs, I wish there were no war veterans.

Don't forget to misbehave!

Our Nicki is 17! Happy Birthday!

Have a great day, John!

It's time!

Where I'm From

This exercise was a lot more fun than I thought it would be. As predicted by previous authors, it left me feeling like I could easily write several more. I hope you'll all eventually participate and share.
Here's the template and its history.

Where I’m From


I am from oranges, from Kool-Aid pops and abalone shells.

I am from whirling sprinklers, fireworks at 9, hot Santa Ana winds, and bare feet on parquet floors.

I am from seed-spitting flowers that bloom at dusk, the full moon, and the dangers of goathead stickers.

I am from silver-dollar pancakes after church and freckled faces, from Ragnvald and Haldis, Juanita and Norman, from the sons of Rasmus and les Desclaux-Mesplès d’Aquitaine.

I am from silence and the glance with sharp edges.

From selfishness, pigeon toes, good grades, and then grace.

I am from the Presbyterians and Lutherans and religions that fail in the end.

I'm from wet Pacific sand and Disneyland. From Swedish meatballs, grilled hot dogs, popcorn, and boysenberries.

From hidden Alaskan ancestors and an Ellis Island journey, From midwest miners, far-north lumberjacks, and a soldier of the Confederacy.

I am from stolen childhood treasures and memories in ashes. From mementos generously shared or secretly salvaged, and a cedar-scented cache left behind.

Happy Birthday, Sean!!

Saying it again!

Time for a bit of weird

I'm that mom...

...who began this lovesome cascade of family!

Thanks Ronnie and Flo for the fun idea!

Feline meets fawn

The fawns started coming around a couple of weeks ago and Bijou has been consumed with curiousity as only a cat can be. This little guy held his ground while Bij got as close as she could.

The new mom thought they were a bit too close together, so Bijou was forced to retreat into the brick pile.

There was some communication concerning the strange scent of the not-a-deer.

The fawn borrowed some courage from the nearness of mom and stamped its hoof several times, but Bijou stayed where she was.

In the end, it was just too much for one afternoon!

I grew up with Disney...

and loved it, but this was happening in the world beyond Fantasyland..

This sexist crap wasn't exclusive to Disney, but it's really disgusting to see it so clearly spelled out!

Have a great day, little sister!

i love xkcd, too

I Love xkcd from NoamR on Vimeo.

J is for...

June. It's the last day of the month and I haven't posted a thing, so in honor of a glorious summer month, I give you...

Ferdinand Joseph La Menthe "Jelly Roll" Morton.

Jupiter. Courtesy of Hubble.

Jewels!

Jaguar in the jungle.

June hurricane and tropical storm tracks, 1851 to 2006

Junk. My fave ship style.

Jumping!

June Lockhart with Lassie. I watched every Saturday morning for years.

Jello. Pretty, but gross.

June bug. Not my favorite. They're clingy and sorta creepy!

Jayne and Vera. (In case you're not a fan, Vera's the ugly one.)

Okay now..everybody sing along!

Our Hunter is 10!

It's Stacey's birthday

Dear Buddha, please bring me a pony and a plastic rocket and...

This 1948 Buick Streamliner!

I'm not sure I like this new design

Wordless Wednesday

Child Development

As sure as prehistoric fish grew legs
and sauntered off the beaches into forests
working up some irregular verbs for their
first conversation, so three-year-old children
enter the phase of name-calling.

Every day a new one arrives and is added
to the repertoire. You Dumb Goopyhead,
You Big Sewerface, You Poop-on-the-Floor
(a kind of Navaho ring to that one)
they yell from knee level, their little mugs
flushed with challenge.
Nothing Samuel Johnson would bother tossing out
in a pub, but then the toddlers are not trying
to devastate some fatuous Enlightenment hack.

They are just tormenting their fellow squirts
or going after the attention of the giants
way up there with their cocktails and bad breath
talking baritone nonsense to other giants,
waiting to call them names after thanking
them for the lovely party and hearing the door close.

The mature save their hothead invective
for things: an errant hammer, tire chains,
or receding trains missed by seconds,
though they know in their adult hearts,
even as they threaten to banish Timmy to bed
for his appalling behavior,
that their bosses are Big Fatty Stupids,
their wives are Dopey Dopeheads
and that they themselves are Mr. Sillypants.

Billy Collins

Writing's on the wall

Have a great day!

Frank's birthday. Again!?

art: tim o'brien

An apology

" 'Ideally, what should be said to every child, repeatedly, throughout his or her school life is something like this: 'You are in the process of being indoctrinated. We have not yet evolved a system of education that is not a system of indoctrination. We are sorry, but it is the best we can do. What you are being taught here is an amalgam of current prejudice and the choices of this particular culture. The slightest look at history will show how impermanent these must be. You are being taught by people who have been able to accommodate themselves to a regime of thought laid down by their predecessors. It is a self-perpetuating system. Those of you who are more robust and individual than others will be encouraged to leave and find ways of educating yourself — educating your own judgements. Those that stay must remember, always, and all the time, that they are being moulded and patterned to fit into the narrow and particular needs of this particular society.' "
— Doris Lessing (The Golden Notebook)

A picture is worth 1000 words. Or maybe 204 words. Maybe 6.

Many of my friends don't send their kids to school. I like that, so I collect items to illustrate the point. (Okay, okay, I do it for everything I like!)
Arranging (or not) pictures and decorating them with words (or not) entertains me, which is the main reason I have a blog to begin with.