Weekly Photo Challenge: Resolved

My New Year’s resolution for the last 40 years has been NOT to make resolutions. What I was doing ten years prior to that I have no idea; I had to be in bed by 9 PM. I do however seem to recall a span of about three decades where my resolve was to be drunk at midnight and to kiss every good-looking male within lips reach. Now THAT was a  resolution I could keep! It’s also probably the reason for my chronic mononucleosis.

I was looking back through some old photographs and you know what? Not all of the men were that good-looking. Those were probably the safe ones. It is a scientifically proven fact that handsome men carry diseases and ugly men make good husbands. Okay maybe it’s not scientifically proven but don’t burst my bubble. To have caught mono from an ugly dude might be more than my fragile psyche can stand.

On a more serious note I suppose I did make a resolution in 2012 when I decided to become an independent author. I just didn’t think of it in terms as a ‘resolution’ at the time. I opened an official website, started blogging, face booking and tweeting. Not really into the tweeting but by golly I have a twitter account.

I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to make a 2013 resolution in regards to photography. I would like to become more adept at taking decent great pictures but I’m not sure how it is going to work out. Would you believe this morning I caught my Nikon snapping at the keyboard and strangling the mouse? Yeah, that that sounds crazy but it really happened! I think my resolution will be to make them best friends.

Things fight when you're not looking.

Things fight when you’re not looking. I resolve to make them allies.

Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 In Pictures

Here is the official submission for last week’s challenge: My 2012 In Pictures. Hey, I made an effort AND I had a note! If you hurried to get your shots in on time you will be pissed happy to know this: Sara extended the challenge. 😀

Weekly Photo Challenge: Surprise

Surprise surprise surprise! The infamous words of Gomer Pyle  echo in my memory but to my own surprise they don’t annoy me like they did some forty years ago.  That is probably because I have matured just a little. I am no longer burdened with the need to be cool and now find myself longing for a simpler time, an era where trust and naivety could walk freely among crowds, if there ever was such a time. Maybe there was and it rests on a reel of black and white film stored somewhere in sunny California?

Or in a box of old photographs in Texas…

Or under a live oak tree with a tire swing…

Or maybe, just maybe in a little dog’s dreams of Christmas.

I wouldn’t be surprised if all of the above are true.

This weeks photo challenge is (you guessed it) SURPRISE.

Crazy Conversations (Enumerating Kin)

Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.
 
Enumerating Kin

Cousin Bill: We need to get together more. Somebody ought to plan a family reunion before all of us are gone.

Sue: Yes, someone should take charge and do that, not that you would go – you haven’t gone to any of the other ones.

Cousin Bill: I didn’t know there were any other ones.Front Porch & Family Photos

Sue: You say the same thing every time.

Betty: Don’t get on his ass. You ain’t been to many of `em yourself missy!

Sue: I wasn’t getting on his ass. If I was getting on his ass he would know it, trust me.

Cousin Bill: It kinda felt like you were gettin’ on my ass. Matter of fact I think you left a mark.

Sue: Poor baby, you want Betty to kiss it and make it all better.

Betty: I’m not kissin’ his hairy old butt.

Cousin Bill: It ain’t hairy. It’s smooth as a baby’s bottom. You wanna see?

Betty: No thank you.

Sue: I do.

Betty: You’re sick in the head girl if you want to look at his rear-end.

Sue: You looked at it so I guess you’re sick in the head too.

Betty: My lookin’ was an accident. I turned my head as soon as I could but I gotta tell you I still have nightmares about it.

Cousin Bill: Would somebody just plan the damn reunion already!

Sue: Betty you’re the oldest why don’t you start a list of paternal relatives and we’ll go from there.

Betty: What is paternal?

Sue: From the father’s side.

Betty: Oh that’s easy. Let’s see… there is Aunt Lou and Uncle Delbert-

Sue: They are from mother’s side of the family and they passed away twelve years ago.

Betty: So you want just the live ones?

Sue: I think the dead ones might have a problem making it to a family reunion.

Cousin Bill: I imagine they’re having their own reunion in heaven. God rest their souls. Sue would you get me another beer?

Betty: I’ve seen dead people at reunions.

Sue: Just make the list Betty we don’t have time for your ghost stories.

Cousin Bill: Lord knows her stories do go on. We’ll all be at that heavenly reunion by the time she finishes.

Betty: Why does it have to be just Daddy’s side? That’s plum rude.

Sue: Let’s work on one thing at a time. We can make a maternal list later.

Betty: What’s maternal? Never mind, I know the answer.

Sue: Good.

Betty: But I don’t think there will be many people show up at a reunion for pregnant women.

Sue: Dadgum you’re sharp as a tack. So how many have you got on the list so far?

Betty: Ummm. What ever happened to Jim and all of those girls? And Jerry and his wife – none of them had any boys did they?

Cousin Bill: Nope. No males to carry on the family name. I reckon we’ll disappear from the annals of history.

Betty: Annals. Is that the same as anus?

Sue: That’s right Betty, it is. That is called a synonym. Don’t worry Bill I’m sure the county has an accurate record of you.

Betty: Well that makes sense now. Curtis is a history butt and he is always talking about annals.

Sue: So you’ve got Jim and Jerry’s clans. Who else?

Betty: You know they had three sisters and a couple of brothers that was stout enough to produce some male offspring. They each had at least five kids and most of `em was boys.

Cousin Bill: What does stout have to do with it?

Betty: A man’s seed has got to be strong to make a boy. Can’t have no little pecker either. Boy seeds are puny little swimmers; they have to be planted deep. Yep, you gotta park `em right on top of the ovary or they’ll never make it.

Cousin Bill: I think I’ll go get me a beer.

Betty: Did you know there are millions and millions of sperm released every time a man relieves his self.

Sue: When he urinates?

Betty: No dummy. Piss don’t have sperm in it. When he umm… you know… has an orgasm.

Sue: Why are you whispering? Orgasm is not a dirty word.

Betty: Well it sounds vulgar to me. It sounds like oral – makes me think of oral… you know. Come to think of it, that might be the reason Jerry and his wife never had any boys. And Jim too. Girl they was puttin’ it in the wrong hole!

Sue: Oh dear lord baby Jesus. You don’t really believe that do you?

Betty: Do you have a better theory?

Sue: No. No Betty I don’t. Let’s forget about the millions and millions of misplaced scrawny sperm for now. How many do you have on the list?

Betty: Two.

It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)

I wish I hadn’t drank all of those margaritas on the beach the night before….  I wish I hadn’t downed so many Dos Equis on the bus ride but OMG it took like ninety hours to get there and a margarita hangover leaves a person very thirsty.

December 21st of 2012. I don’t recall that date being mentioned in 1995 when we toured the ancient grounds of Chichen Itza. I suppose it was irrelevant with Y2K looming in the not so distant future. Maybe the guide did make mention and I missed it because I was passed out resting half way up the pyramid. That of course would not have happened if he’d sent the Sherpa I requested.

I don’t think the tour guide liked me despite my best efforts to build a rapport.

“Parlez-vous français?” I had asked. “Oui- petit.” He responded. That exhausted my french so I gave him a slap on the back and said, “Well jolly good for you old chap.” He snarled and started his rehearsed dialogue for the small crowd.

Everyone listened in awe as he pointed at the cracked engravings and bits of broken symbols, skirting over the fissures and holes filled with smooth stones. I am not a hieroglyphics expert but I could see large gaps of information were missing from the story. Laying my linguistic talents aside and in my most authentic voice I gently interrupted, “Sir? Pardon me? With so much of the picture missing how can you be sure of that interpretation?” but like a well-trained telemarketer he pressed forward with the history lesson he’d been taught.

“Escuzzie  moi señor? Ooday ooyay hablas ingles?” I asked. Initially he ignored me but after repeating the inquiry eight times I got his undivided attention and readied my next question as he turned to face me. “Are there any little Mayan peoples left? Perhaps you have an oral history -”

“NO!” he snapped before slowly raising the corner of his mouth to reveal sharp decaying teeth. I have to admit it was a bit creepy staring down the rusty tines of this human tiller so I spat, “Fine! I’ll just look at the rocks and make up my own story.”

After silent hours of wandering aimlessly research (silent unless you count the noise of the Quetzal) the only conclusion I came away with was this: We are not an advanced generation; not in 1995 and not now. We assume way too much and despite all of our technical gadgets, we are idiots.

So December 21st is only days away and I sit staring at 17 year old photographs wondering, Where is my fanny pack and that intelligent archeological tourist hat that hubby was wearing? Where on earth did I get those outrageous shorts and what will I get the children for Christmas? All the while one line from a song I can’t remember loops in my frontal lobe. ‘It’s the end of the world as we know & it and I feel fine.’ I think that’s REM. They may have been ahead of their time and we may be out of it. Any naysayers, doomsdayer’s or opinions on the subject? Personally – if I can pinch my own flesh I’m not falling for it.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Changing Seasons

Weekly Photo Challenge: Changing Seasons

The winter solstice is due to hit Texas on December 21st and the last of the golden Hickory leafs are falling. Another season will soon have passed leaving only the evergreens to stand watch while nature sleeps.

As the days are shortened it seems patience is lengthened (if only for a short time) and hearts give way to kinder notions. Colorful festivities dot the dulling landscape and religious traditions are celebrated all over the world. What a sight that must be to behold from the heavens.

The garden tools are stored away and replaced with the red, gold and greens of Christmas. These things [along with a good bonfire] make the change much more bearable.

Waiting

I honestly didn’t know who this man was (I’m sheltered like that) until Sara’s post exposed him here on WordPress. No, I do not live in a cave though I have often wished I did.

The thing that moved me other than his world renown photography is that Steve McCurry’s Simple Act of Waiting  told in pictures is [chillingly] what I imagined when I wrote Waiting. I seriously got goosebumps.

If you’re like me (sheltered and horrible with names) or you are lucky enough to live in a cave, that doesn’t matter – I know you will recognize his photos when you see them. Who could forget the eyes of the Afghan girl starring out from the cover of National Geographic? Who would want to?

Waiting

For hopes that hung on a chicken bones
For hearts that lived in chains
For pods of green that died unknown
While waiting for the rain

For dreams left bare on empty prayer
For souls that wished in vain
For tears unshared in mute despair
While waiting for a change

For you and I and all mankind
For worlds where peace was slain
For faith and mind no man can bind
We wait and wait again

Poem first published in Interior Verse © 2012. Republished 2018 in Getting Me Back

Weekly Photo Challenge: Reflections

Reflections. One could go in so many (deeper) directions with this week’s photo challenge. I chose a few simple mirrored images.
You know I have become somewhat of a procrastinator and [once again] goofed off all weekend. So now it is Monday and everyone has gone back to their weekly grind leaving me without a proven assistant, someone to inspire me and offer suggestions. Oh sure I have plenty of insects and dying foliage but they don’t seem to speak to me at the moment. Was it something I said? I don’t know. Nevertheless I found a new assistant. He is young and inexperienced, a bit awkward and doesn’t take directions well but he works really cheap. I mean really, really cheap. After a few belly rubs and a dog biscuit I had him eating out of my hand, literally. And now without further ado I present to you the reflections of Mr. Clyde Kadiddlehopper.

"Calm down Clyde or you'll break the mirror."

“Calm down Clyde or you’ll break the mirror.”

"Now you both have a biscuit. Good boy."

“Now you both have a biscuit. Good boy.”

"I know you're a little apprehensive but..."

“I know you’re a little apprehensive but…”

"Ponder Clyde...  what does 'reflection' mean to you?"

“Ponder Clyde… what does ‘reflection’ mean to you?”

"It's okay you cracked the mirror. Cheer up -dogs aren't supposed to be superstitious."

“It’s okay you cracked the mirror. Cheer up -dogs aren’t supposed to be superstitious.”

Weekly Photo Challenge: Thankful

I’m a little late in getting this post out but still I am pleased to be able to participate in this week’s photo challenge Thankful.

There are so many things I have to be thankful for… to be grateful for. So many family members, friends and fans – you know who you are and I love you. I am thankful for you!

The photographs I chose have less to do with the colorful umbrella and more to do with the conversations held beneath it…

Nothing to do with the roof but the souls that have been sheltered under it…

And the door, well it’s just the gateway to another world. So many comings and goings and so many to be thankful for.

How Autumn Came To Be & Where Baby Scarecrows Come From