DFW Poem 202506 Like

 Here's my 202506 entry in the Deadlines for Writers Poetry Group using the prompt "like." It's a simple 4X4 rhyming ditty.

Behind every “like” on your media page

Is a purpose, apparent or not.

Is the like for the content of the message you shared

Or simply a way to say you’ve been got?

 

Did he like the picture, the message, the theme?

Did she like what the commenters said?

I like you, I hear you, I support you, my friend.

Let’s raise our shared past from the dead?

 

I agree with your political point, my friend.

My like might sway some to our point of view.

My “like” is a bullet I can fire at will

In the culture wars we’ve been conscripted into. 

 

A like is not simply a like these days

It can be many things in addition.

Enjoy the likes you get on your post,

And consider the liker’s intention. 

The Cowboy's Cowboy

 In 2014, my granddaughter, Natalie, had an assignment to write a poem related to "the Wild West" since her class was planning a field trip to Booth Western Art Museum in Cartersville, GA. Teachers from around the region would choose a few of the best poems from their students to enter in a contest. The winners from each school would read their poems at the museum on the day of the proposed field trip. 

Natalie had not previously written poetry and mentioned her anxiety over the assignment to me. When my grandchildren were in public school, I had made it a habit to read whatever literature they were assigned to read and keep up with their school progress in other ways, so one day I sat down to think about what could be written related to "the Wild West." I had in mind sending her a few ideas to help her get started.

I wrote a very rough first-draft light-verse poem about "'ol Hank." A couple of days before Natalie's poem was due, she told me she had not come up with anything, so I sent her that rough draft as a starting point to help her get started writing. That was probably not as good an idea as it sounded to us at the time. Instead of igniting a new idea in her, it seemed to confine her to just adapting the poem I had started. Deadline came too quickly, and she just turned in the poem that we had more-or-less cowritten. Of course, it won!

She was now locked into reading it aloud at the district Western Art assembly. It has bothered both of us ever since. She felt like she had cheated by turning in a poem she saw as mostly mine. I felt guilty because she felt like I helped her cheat and because she didn't see the final poem as truly hers. I also felt bad that I had apparently caused her to doubt her own ability and integrity. This incident became an embarrassment to both of us over the years, and the poem was mostly forgotten/unmentioned/hidden. 

I recently found an old copy. At this point neither of us is sure how much either of us had to do with this version or even it this is the final copy that was entered in the contest. Neither of us has felt comfortable claiming authorship. But I think it's a cute poem, so here is the, I guess, cowritten poem about 'ol Hank. 

Ol’ Hank was a cowboy’s cowboy –

That feller knew how to live.

Any case that came along,

Hank had advice to give.

 

Now, he warn’t no shoddy blowhard;

He didn’t talk no bosh.

But when he’d meet a greenhorn,

He’d fill their ears, by gosh!

 

“Hey, Dude!  Hey, City Slicker,”

Ol’ Hank was known to shout.

“You’re all hat and no cattle -

That’s not what cowboyin’s all about!

 

Now, being a real true cowboy

Takes a bigger man than you.

If you don’t wanna get your plow cleaned,

Here’s what you gotta do.

 

Don’t never squat with your spurs on.

Don’t drive black cattle when it’s dark outside.

Don’t dig for water near the outhouse;

Don’t get in the saddle ‘less you’re ready to ride.”

2014 by Natalie Davis (Akins) (with Joan Turrentine)

Who?

I submitted this very incomplete poem to the Deadlines for Writers site this morning. The assignment was right in the middle of my wheelhouse and should have been a piece of cake for me - using rhyme, alliteration, and/or assonance; I just didn't work at it until the last minute. 

Which me am I today? I ask.

I really need to know.

If I’m the me that hates to cook,

How will dinner go?

 

If I’m the me who always does

More than I have to do,

We’ll feast on caviar and prawns

Like kings, and counts, and dukes.

 

The me who likes the finer things

Will wear an evening gown.

The me who lives for comfort will

Slouch unkempt into town.

Fancy Writes a Poem

 Deadline morning found me still totally blank on the prompt "underneath." I wrote and submitted this short nonsense rhyme this morning. 

Deadline day was here,

And words were still unbendable.

The month had been quite drear

And wifi  undependable;

 

Thus Fancy sent the mind away

“Let me do it; hit the road.”

So Thinking took a short vacay,

And Fancy bore May’s load.

 

She quickly dove under the bed

Wrote this poem no-one expected

As I read, I shook my head.

Hope Mia won’t reject it.

Three Limericks "The End"

 The first poem of 2024 was due today. I had written three limericks on the prompt "the end." I had a hard time deciding which to submit. I finally submitted the first two below.  

BIRTH OF A SHORT STORY

A lonely young writer from Creekbend

Wrote himself up a best friend.

Oh the fun that they had

‘Til one day he got mad

Killed his pal with a scribbled “The End.”

 

A lonely young novelist from Creekbend

Wrote himself up a best friend.

But when the writer felt scorned,

A short story was born

As he angrily scribbled “The End.”

 

A lonely young novelist from Creekbend

Wrote himself up a best friend.

But on the tenth page

He exploded in rage,

Killed his pal with a violent “The End.”

Remembered Thrills - A Poem

Today is the deadline for the last poem of 2023 in Deadlines for Writers. The prompt is "Thrill."  I found this a hard topic and ended up writing my poem late yesterday, determined to just have an entry, however lame, to submit. In late life, few people are still the thrill-seekers they might have been in their younger days. 

Remembered Thrills

It comes to me sometimes in my dreams -

Memory of carefree youth.

When life was all challenge and thrill and risk,

And death was intangible truth.

 

No dare was too great for omnipotent me -

No mountain too tall to climb;

No ocean or cavern too deep to explore

And be home before dinnertime.

 

“Fear? What’s fear? You’re kidding me, right?

It’s not too dark out there!”

I always believed if it came to that,

I could easily outrun a bear!

 

I no longer need a thrill a day.

I’m happy to dream thrills instead,

I don’t have to prove I’m alive anymore.

I take all my risks here in bed.

Shopping 2023

Today is deadline day in the Short Story group of Deadlines for Writers. The prompt was "thin" and the story was to be exactly 1200 words. Here's the story I submitted. 

Shopping 2023

“So, Madam, did you decide on the black leather or the red suede?” I had just discovered the cutest little shop on a back street near my office and had found two purses that I really liked.

I swung the black bag onto my shoulder and examined my reflection in the mirror. Turning quickly, I looked at the other side where the red suede purse hung.

“I’ll take them both, thanks…..Jacinda,” I said squinting to read her name tag.

“Very good, Ma’am. We can offer you a 5% discount on the matching wallets. We have the bi-fold and the tri-fold available for the suede bag, but just the zippered one to match the leather.”

“I don’t think so. Just the purses please.”

“Many people who bought these purses also bought the double-helix keyrings made especially to coordinate with these bags,” said Jacinda, “but the matching Kleenex holders are no longer available.”

I glanced at the salesgirl in puzzlement. “Oh,” was all I could manage.

“Well,” I finally continued, “I’ll just take the two purses.”

“Customers who bought suede items also bought our ForeverYoung suede care kit. That comes with a lifetime guarantee and a free SuaDeCare brush for maintaining the new appearance of your beautiful purse. With this purchase, you can also get 10% off anti-stain seat covers for your car. The complete set is only $150.”

“Just the purses,” I repeated, smiling determinedly.

“Would you like more information about red suede products? That shade can be hard to find, and I can put you on the list if you like, Ma’am. First name? Surname?”

“I don’t think so, Jacinda. Just the purses, please.”

“Certainly, Ma’am.’ Jacinda took my card and discreetly looked the other way while I input my PIN.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” she said, handing me the receipt. “You may also be interested in these other black leather items,” she added, showing me a range of shoulder bags nearly identical to the one I’d just bought but at slightly lower prices.

“Hey, wait a minute!” I said, “Can I exchange the black purse for one of these cheaper ones that look just like it?”

“Of course, Ma’am, you are free to make an exchange within 7 days of purchase. Purchases will be refunded in full by mail within 30 days, subject to terms and conditions and must be accompanied with a valid receipt. Of course, all refunds are at the sole discretion of the store manager.”

“Never mind,” I sighed.

***

I had stopped at a traffic light on the way home when suddenly the passenger door opened, and Jacinda calmly got in and seated herself in the passenger seat of my car.

“Thank you for choosing The Bag Lady for your purchase today,” she said. “Would you care to rate your shopping experience? On a scale of one to five, how happy were you with the service you received today? One is not at all happy, and five is very happy.”

I stared in disbelief. The light changed, so I accelerated. “I’m sorry, Jacinda, but really…“

Unfazed, she continued, “How would you rate the value of the items you purchased today on a scale of one to five, where one is very poor value and five is very good value?”

Talking a long, slow breath, I exhaled and spoke calmly, “Look, I don’t…“

“How would you rate the layout of our store, on a scale of…“

As I stopped at the next light, I reached across the car, opened the passenger door, and glared at the persistent salesperson until she stepped from my car in a huff and slammed the door behind her. I quickly locked it.

Relieved, I continued driving home.

***

The following morning, I was showered, dressed, and just finishing breakfast when the doorbell rang. Who in the world would be at my door this early in the morning? I didn’t have time for this! I couldn’t afford to be late to work! 

“Riiiiiing!” Sighing, I walked into the foyer and opened the door. A tall, thin man stood there - trailed by a large rolling suitcase.

“Good Morning, Ms Firstname Surname! As someone who’s interested in red suede products, you’ll be delighted to know that you’re eligible for an exclusive 15% discount on our extensive range of toilet bags, wallets, TV remote control holders and sundry goods, all crafted from AlmostReal Suedina….”

I stepped back. “I’m not interested. How did you get my name and address anyway?”

“Our company is a ‘selected sales partner’ of The Bag Lady, their affiliates and subsidiaries. As such, we from time to time….”

“Just because I bought two purses from that store, you…”

“Well, Ms Surname, you explicitly expressed an interest in receiving information about suede and suede-related items at the time of your purchase from our associate store. This purchase entitles you to receive special promotions and…“

I slammed the door. I didn’t remember agreeing to be put on any list. I’d stop by The Bag Lady on the way home from work today and put a stop to this madness.

***

As I parked in the lot behind The Bag Lady and stepped out of my car, I was tapped on the shoulder by a wiry little man wearing a turban and speaking with a middle Eastern accent.

“Excuse me, Madam,” he said, “I wonder if you would be so kind as to help me with a small problem."

I began fumbling with my purse to see if I had some change.

“It is my uncle,” the man explained. “He is the former exchange minister of my country, and he has been forced to flee his home leaving all his wealth behind. It amounts to some 300 million dollars. I am prepared to offer you, Ms Firstname Surname, ten percent of that sum in exchange for your assistance in getting the funds out of the country.”

I sputtered in disbelief and quickly stepped away and toward the entrance to the store.

Just then, on my other side, a big bruiser of a man wearing a cowboy hat punched my arm.

“Hey, Doll! I got a deal for ya.” He began pulling me toward the alley. “I just got a great supply of those little blue pills real cheap. Believe me, these’ll do more for the old man’s libido than your sexy red suede purse will. I can let you have ten of these babies for..”

I ran.

Slipping breathlessly into The Bag Lady, I looked around for Jacinda.

“Excuse me,” I said to the nearest associate. “I’d like to talk to Jacinda.”

“I’m Jacinda, Ma’am,” she said. “How can I help you?”

“No, I talked to another clerk yesterday. Her name was Jacinda.”

“We’re all Jacinda,” she said with a bored shrug. “How can I help you?”

“Well, okay.” I said. “I bought a couple of purses here yesterday, and I seem to have got on some sort of list. I want to be taken off that list.”

“Of course, Madam,’ replied THIS Jacinda. “I’ll take care of that right away. Now, since you’ve expressed an interest in lists, I’d like to show you our extensive range of list-related products? We have a special offer…”

My Cluttered Mind

 It's poetry deadline day in the Deadlines for Writers group. Prompt is "secret." Here's my entry (still in need of polishing.)

My Cluttered Mind

I have a little secret in the corner of my mind.

It’s back behind the poem I memorized when I was nine.

That memory beside it of cooking with my granny

Even has the smell of snickerdoodles. That’s uncanny!

 

And there I’m in the bathroom – just watching grandpa shavin’

Fresh out of the corner where I’d stood for misbehavin’

But my mind’s not filled with just dreams from long ago.

Part is for reminders to keep me going with the flow.

 

That box behind the memory rack is filled with future dates.

I gotta buy retirement gifts for two long-time workmates.

Doctor trips and grocery lists and lots of bills to pay

Fill the space behind the sign "To Do without Delay.”

 

The shelves for basic knowledge are piled up to the ceiling.

Policies, procedures, Bible verses, ways of dealing,

Relationships, vocab and facts, how-tos for this and that.

Mother Goose, Doctor Suess, Ferdinand and Cat in the Hat.

 

My mind is filled with so much multi-categoried junk

It’s surprising that I found a little spot in which to tuck

My confidential secret - my own private bagatelle.

I think I’m going to leave it hid. Nope, I’ll never tell.

?Que has dicho? - A 500-word short story

 The fourth short story of 2023 in my Deadlines for Writers group has to be 500 words using the prompt "teach." Here's my submission. 

?Que Has Dicho?

“Miguel, Miguel!’

I was painting the trim on my garage and looked up to see my neighbor motioning emphatically to the Hispanic man planting the new shrubs around his house. The worker looked up at George questioningly. I saw that it was Miguel, the husband of my teaching partner, Rosita.

“Aqui” said George, much too loud and pointing importantly a few inches to the left of where the gardener was working. “The. azalea. goes. here.” George continued slowly, enunciating carefully, and gesturing widely. “No aqui,” he continued then pointed emphatically, “Aqui!”

I knew Miguel well. His wife and I taught together at the local junior high school and teamed up to plan the fall festival each year.  Rosita and Miquel’s sons played soccer with my sons in the community league; in fact, Miguel had privately and generously stepped in last month and paid the participation fees for the Parker boys, whose father had left the family last year. Their mother was diligently working two jobs to try to make up for the loss of her husband’s salary, but she was having a hard time coming up with the money she needed for her children’s activities and equipment.

Miquel was a devoted father and conscientious citizen as well as the owner of a successful landscaping business that employed more than 20 workers. The Hernadez Nursery was the best place in town to find knowledgeable help with plants and to get dependable landscapers.

I watched in dismay as George continued to proudly pepper his and Miguel’s conversational exchanges with elementary Spanish words that any remedial third grader could comfortably use. I wondered how I could intervene to tell George that Miquel’s English was far superior to George’s Spanish.

As I continued painting around the windows on my garage, I caught George’s voice occasionally. “Bueno. Muy bien.” “Si, Amigo!”  “Aqui.” And even once the expansive and multisyllabic “bueno trabajo!” I glanced over at him when I heard that and found him looking at me to see if I’d noticed his Spanish vocabulary.

By the time that Miguel was nearly finished with the job --under George’s constant scrutiny, I had become absolutely fascinated with what was going on next door and was feeling a little insulted on Miguel’s behalf at George’s condescending manner. But no opportunity had come up for me to speak with George privately.  “I’d pay good pesos,” I thought, to hear Miguel just stand up and tell George to dial down the condescension.

As I began to put away my paint and brushes, I caught movement next door. Miguel was standing and extending his hand to George. I heard his dignified voice say in slightly accented English, “Thank you, Mr. Wilson, for your business. Hernandez Nursery stands behind our work, and we are always available to you for any ongoing landscaping needs. Please call if we can be of further service in the future. The office will put your invoice in the mail tomorrow.”

“Si!” I silently fisted the air.  

From Rome to Nome

The assignment for the 10th poem of 2022 was to write a haiku or a limerick. I came up with an idea I liked for a limerick, but I couldn't decide on a final version to use. So here are three versions of From Rome to Nome

A very fine lady from Rome,

Got lost one day on her way home. 

When she hit Alaska

A local there asked her

Why don’t you just move here to Nome! 

OR

A ditzy young lady from Rome

Got lost again going home.

Up North she gave in,

Swapped her R for an N;

Now she’s settled and happy in Nome

OR

A very fine lady from Rome,

Got lost one day on her way home. 

She got so far off track

There was no going back,

And now she’s a lady from Nome. 

Funny, Food-related Family Kid Stories

In going through papers at my Mother's house recently, I found this collection of kid stories I'd sent to her in an email. It features my grandchildren and Jan's grandchildren who were the age for that kind of cute kid talk at the time. All the other family kids were just as cute and full of such communication, but these few just happened to be the right age to get quoted when this email was sent. 

Brianne (just turned 2) Her parents often turned the TV to a ballgame or cooking show when it was time for B to settle down for bedime (to avoice stimulating her and to calm her down.) 

One night, as they watched "Emeril Live", Lyn said, "Well, Brianne, we need to get you to bed." 

Brianne replied, "But I want to watch the man cook!"

*****

Brianne (age 2 1/2) The family was "driving through" a fast food restaurant when 

Brianne (who was very experienced in the protocol for this activity) politely requested, "Mom, det me a sketti combo." Of course, since no such item was on the menu, she got her "sketti combo) from a can when they got home! 

*****

Brianne (age3) was eating pasta at a restaurant. She commented, "Mom, this is messy.I should have just ordered a milk shake."

*****

Brianne (age 3 1/2) was spending the day with her grandmother. Linda had taken a cake out of the freezer to let it thaw. Brianne wanted a pice, so Linda cut her a mall piece. Later at lunch, Brianne told Linda she only wanted another piece of cake - not the food Linda prepared for her. Linda told her that she had to eat some food that was good for her and couldn't just eat junk.  

Brianne replied, "Nanny, that not junk! That CAKE!"

*****

Brianne (age 3 1/2) found a small packet of cinnamon candies as they were getting ready to go to church. and she wanted to eat some. 

"Mommy," she said,"do you think I will get some candy at church, or should I just go ahead and eat some of these?"

*****

Natalie (age 2) was with the family going out to eat. They had to stop by the back first. 

When her dad rolled the window down at the bank drive through, Natalie leaned forward and called out loudly, "Sausage, Biscuit, and Diet Coke!" then turning to her older sister, she continued, "What you want, BeeAnn (Brianne)?" (BTW, Natalie doesn't drink Diet Coke.)

Natalie (age 2 1/2) was eating eggs, not paying attention, and turned her spoon bowl-side up. 

She looked down and said, "What is this? My spoon is upside backards!"

AnnaGrace (age 2) was talking listening to her Daddy talk on the phone to her Granddaddy and wanted to talk to him. Her GDaddy asked her what he was doing. 

Her response was, "Helping Daddy eat his plate." 

Her dad had come home late from work and was eating the "plate" his wife had saved for him.

AnnaGrace (age 2 1/2) loved cantaloupe and held her plate up to ask for "more Santaclope."

Dow (age 5) was horrified when he heard his aunt and uncle talk about having "pasta" for dinner. 

He asked incredulously, "You eat POSSUM?!"

*****

Gibby (age 2 1/2) was in the grocery story with her mother and two OLDER siblings. As they headed into the meat department, Hannah and Johnnie, her siblings, who were walking, ran toward the lobster tank. Her mother saw the older children heading away and called,"Where to do think you're going?" Gibbie, sitting in the shopping cart, piped up, "I let them go see the crabs!"

*****

Gibbie (age 3 1/2) was in the kitchen and asked for a peanut butter sandwich. Her mother asked her to wait a minute while she finished up another chore.  Apparently mom took too long, so Gibbie took matters into her own hands and got out the peanut butter, bread, and jelly and put them on the counter ready for her mother to come make the sandwich. 

"Gibbie," said her mother, "This is crunchy peanut butter; it has nuts in it.  Put it back and get the other one. You like the creamy peanut butter."  

Gibbie replied, "No, Hannah and Johnnie like creamy. I like this!"

Her mother, Charmaine, said, "No, Daddy is the one who likes nuts in it."

Gibbie said, "Daddy like crunchy AND I like crunchy. Hannah like creamy AND Johnnie likes creamy. Hey. I'm beginning to see a pattern here!"

*****

Gibbie (age 4 1/2) started asking her mother about heaven. She was very concerned about whether or not there'd be candy in heaven. Her mother assured her that there would be plenty of candy in heaven (I does say that in the Bible, doesn't it?) Gibbie wanted to know when she would go to heaven. Her mother told her that she doesn't know but that most people don't go to heaven until they are much older.

Gibbie replied, with a sigh, "Oh, okay. Well, I'm still pretty new!" 

The Job of Cooking #8 - Quote

(Click on the logo above for an explanation of this feature of Daddy's Roses.)

This eighth edition of The Job of Cooking brings you this anonymous comment found in the daily vent of the Atlanta Journal Constitution last week:

"I read recipes the same way I read science fiction. I get to the end and think, "Well, THAT'S not gonna happen!"

I wish I had written that one! Maybe I should claim it.

I Am Mentally Ill

See this calm and relatively-normal-looking (?) image? the appearance of normalcy is misleading. I am mentally ill.

What other explanation can there be? Why else would a retired person wake up at 2:00 AM and be unable to go back to sleep? Was something hurting me? No. Was I worrying about the health of some family member? No. Was I trying to make a difficult decision? No. Was I worrying about the future of our great nation or the outcome of the upcoming presidential election? No. I was not even fixated on the massive amount of housecleaning and organizing that needs doing here in my daily domain.

My mind, that overactive ferret running around and around on its exercise wheel, refused to let me sleep. In spite of all my admonitions and efforts to stop the wheel, it continued rotating. It replayed and analyzed again and again several recent word-formation-related communications and planned a lesson on the value of good Language Arts instruction. I rest my case; I am resigned to the diagnosis - definitely some form of mental illness.

If you, like students sometimes complain, think that there is no practical use for the grammar instruction given in public schools; if you think that it doesn't matter whether you can identify a noun or verb; if you think that studying word stems, prefixes, and suffixes is "busy work", my ferret mind begs to differ with you. Here is one example - the one that looped endlessly through my mind last night.

My mother had her decennial colonoscopy Tuesday. Among the doctor's post-examination comments was this: "She has a very healthy colon with a moderate amount of diverticulosis." I had never studied this medical concept; but I knew what he was talking about because I understand how our language is structured. Here are the language arts skills involved in understanding that communication.

1. Listening. Yes, listening is one of the four "language arts." Good language arts teachers teach all four of the arts - two for dispensing language (writing and speaking) and two for receiving language (reading and listening.) Because of good language arts skills and understandings, I heard the word "diverticulosis." Many people would have heard the more commonly heard word "diverticulitis." There is significant difference.

2. An undertanding of root words and affixes. The words "diverticulum, diverticulosis, and diverticulitis" all start with the word "divert" (to turn away). The word divert is composed of the root word "-vert" which means "turn" and the prefix "di-" meaning "away."

3. An understanding of root words and affixes II. I knew that the word diverticulum comes from the same base as the word divert (to turn away); therefore, in a medical context it must mean a place where contour of a hollow organ is diverted from its usual form.

4. An understanding of root words and affixes III. Because of good understanding of how affixes determine word meaning, I knew that the suffix "-osis" is a medical suffix that indicates the "condition or existence of." So I knew that diverticulosis meant that a diverticulum, or several, exists in her colon. (The suffix "-itis", on the other hand, means "inflamation of." Her diverticula were NOT inflamed.) Total aside: I know how plurals of Latin-based nouns are formed - diverticulum/diverticula.

So I knew, without conscious analysis and without effort, that my mother has some stretched out areas in her colon, but that they are minor and are not inflamed or infected. The value of good language understanding is that this kind of effortless communication (of language received through listening or reading) occurs many times every day and makes like easier.

I am quite aware that this is over-analysis; but it illustrates how gaining a good understanding of language arts, especially when that understanding becomes part of a person early in life, helps one interpret more easily and accurately what he/she hears and reads. My point is that, since language exists for the purpose of communication, one becomes a much better communicator through an understanding of our language structure.

Okay, now that I have that down in writing, perhaps my ferret-brain will let me sleep tonight!

The Year of the Cleavage - Just a Tempest in a C-Cup?

A couple of Aprils ago, my husband flew to Florida to visit his ailing mother. On every leg of his trip there and back, the planes were loaded with high school and college age kids on Spring Break. He commented when he got home, "This must be the year of the belly button. I have seen a lifetime's worth of 'em in the last few days!" Well, that "year" lasted awhile; indeed, vestiges of belly button exhibitionism are still with us.

However for the last year or so, the belly button has diminished in fashion prominence, and we have begun celebrating the Year of the Cleavage! This "year" also promises to last several years: but here in January 2008, it is in full bloom (pardon me! I couldn't resist.) It isn't even Spring, but it IS busting out all over! A walk through the mall has one seeing "golden globes" at every turn, just as the guy in the cellphone commercial sees "bars" everywhere he looks. Fat, thin, old, young, of any ethnicity, women's assets are spilling out of their top garments in bold fashion statements. Some offer only a quiet greeting to those who are closely observing; others are standing right out there and boldly demanding, "Hey, you! Look at me!"

In July 2007 the media was all in a tizzy over cleavage supposedly shown in the senate by the Dem Darling, HC. I don't know about you, but that was DEFINITELY a tempest in a B-Cup! Get over it, news reporters, women have breasts! They can't always be completely covered and hidden away as if they don't exist. If I were she, I'd be more unhappy about the severe facial expression in the photo than the nearly imperceptible hint of bosom that the photo shows!"

In November 2007, the Brits were all agog over cleavage being displayed in their solemn House of Commons. Admittedly, Theresa May, in this photo (left), could have made a more flattering clothes choice on this day. And she, like Ms Clinton, looks not only severe but possibly ill.

During the same period of time, another British Legislative Lady, Jaqui Smith, made the news with her display of cleavage in the House of Commons.

But lest the American Media lead us to believe that the political types have a monopoly on the fashion trend of Cleavage Display, take a look at the photo of Katie Couric that jumped off the cover of the AARP magazine recently! (And this clothing choice was made to be photographed in - unlike the ladies mentioned above who were simply working - doing the jobs they are paid to do.) AND Katie has the shoulder positioned just so -- the better to push the goods to the fore.

Of course Hollyweird types have always celebrated any year that offers opportunities to display any part of their anatomies for the admiration of the Celebritologists who read religiously about them and look for pictures of them. I will paste in one pic of the typical posed shot that people actually pay to view. Here is Scarlett Johansson thrilling her fans with a cleavage shot. By the way, do you see the little skin-colored band under her arm, apparently there to provide some support for the main attraction. What exactly IS that band?

I don't have a point in this little essay; I'm just making an observation. All these thoughts just coalesced in my head this morning when I attempted to wear my new V-necked shirt and realized that I don't own a bra low-cut enough to wear the shirt. I'm just sayin'.......

When I'm Famous

I haven't done one of these "memey-cutsie" thing-a-ma-jigs in a while, but I saw this one and liked it, so here goes. I stole it shamlessly from Melli at Insanity Prevails who shamelessly stole it from Amazing Gracie (who shamelessly stole it from someone else...)

When I'm famous, my name will be......

1. ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car) Gypsy Dakota

2. GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie) Nut Oatmeal

3. “FLY Girl” NAME:(first initial of first name, first three letters of last name) L-Tur

4. DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal) Detective Aqua Giraffe

5. SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born) Joan Porterdale

6. STAR WARS NAME: (first 3 letters of last name, first 2 letters of first) TUR-LY

7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink) The Gold Mimosa

8. NASCAR NAME: (first names of grandfathers) Benjamin Grady

9. STRIPPER NAME: (favorite perfume. favorite candy) Sierra Dove

10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names)Ruth Columbus

11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME:(5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter) Davenport Dalton

12. SPY NAME/BOND GIRL: (favorite season/holiday, flower) Autumn Daisy

13. CARTOON NAME:(favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”)Strawberry Socky

14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree) Bagel Willow

15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”) The Watercolor Thunderstorm Tour

Random Flickr Image 5183

This week's Random Flickr assigned number is 5183. There were 4,164 images posted with this random number. I have chosen 6 to caption.

"Hey, Joe, did you hear the one about the pacifier and the floor in the mall…..?"
IMG_5183.JPG Uploaded on 8 April 2007
By gewoonbobSee profile.

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"Aw man! I just want to pick out my own clothes. You'd cry too if your mom dressed you like this!"
IMG_5183 Uploaded on 8 October 2006
By wisesowerSee profile.
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"I guess he does have eyes like his mommy, Ethel; but his hairline is just like his daddy's,"
IMG_5183 Uploaded on 19 February 2007
By tgp_amandaSee profile.
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"I heard George and Judy........."

IMG_5183 Uploaded on 23 July 2006
By vegsundSee profile.
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Martin is finally ready to patent his new aircycle.

IMG_5183 Uploaded on 19 August 2005
By moto-familySee profile.
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Self-imposed segregation as seen in Middle School Cafeterias

251_5183 Uploaded on 23 March 2007
By ocak26cgSee profile.
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Tom at If I Ran the Zoo originated the idea of Random Flickr blogging.

Here's how it works: Every week, we all start with the same randomly-generated four-digit number (call it ####).Participants go to Flickr and search for "IMG_####". There are anywhere from a few hundred to a couple thousand results. One chooses an image or two from among the results posts it to his/her blog (along with attribution and a link back to the page where the image appears)--The blogger then writes about the image. The writer can make up a story about it, connect it to some issue, or just post it as an image he/she really likes.

Thursday Thirteen - Edition 43 for me

Thirteen Interests that my DH and I do NOT share: 1…. Movies. He loves 'em; I can't seem to stick with one long enough to get involved in it. That is kinda strange since I enjoy reading fiction and can read for hours at a time. I think I just don't like for someone else to determine the setting and interpretation of the story for me. I want to picture it and hear it in my own mind like I do when I read. 2.... Seafood. His favorite; I don't eat it except as I need to for health reasons. Occasionally I find salmon that I can eat without having to choke it down. 3.... Sunday School. I haven't attended Sunday School in years. I enjoy church and independent Bible Study, I just don't like to be a part of a continuing group in a class. I'd like to see Sunday School set up with a catalog from which a person could choose a short-term class to attend and study a particular subject. There would be the potential to choose a new class every couple of months. I'd also like to see more intergenerational mingling in classes. I also do not enjoy gender-separated or even age-separated groups. 4.... Pets. He always had pets growing up and enjoys caring for dogs and/or birds. I'd rather spend time, energy, and money on almost anything else. 5.... Vacation Spots. I enjoy beach vacations; he prefers mountains, swimming pools, and cooler weather. 6.... Temperature. I am the cold-natured one; he sweats if the temp rises above 60! 7.... Time of Day. He's a night owl; I am an early bird. 8.... Food. He really enjoys vegetables, cornbread, and healthy food. I'd eat pizza and tacos all the time if I didn't exercise a little discipline. I enjoy fresh vegetables in the summer time, but I don't enjoy canned or frozen veggies and definitely not dried beans as a regular diet. 9.... Family of Origin. I have six siblings; he was raised as an only child (with an older sister who did not live in the household.) 10.... TV Shows. He enjoys sports shows and movies. I enjoy Dateline, 20/20, America's Most Wanted, 48 Hours Investigates, etc. 11.... Health. I am prone to headaches; he gets colds. 12.... Okay, I'm getting desperate to fill out this list to the prescribed number, so...... Gender. He's male; I'm female! 13.... Blog. I do; he doesn't. Well, there you have it! Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Occupational Aptitude and Don Imus

The Don Imus hullabaloo of a couple of weeks ago is still good for a little entertainment. I found a humorous comment on the topic. Read it here.
Good joke: Don Imus Fallout


Why do we do what we do? I found a joke about our occupational choices here. Maybe you'd like to read it too. Like a good teacher, I am not going to just give you the info ; instead I will tell you where to find it.

Good joke: The Brick Theory of Management

Carnival of Kid Comedy

If you'd like to read some cute kid stories, go to Life in a Shoe - a very good mommy blog, by the way -- she has posted a funny kid's story and asked people to link with their stories. At the end of her story, readers have included links to theirs. Just click on each reader's name to read his/her entry.

Warning: Shameless promotion to follow: Be sure to read Lyn's story about my youngest grandchild. Lyn at Sleepless Juggler posts her son's evaluation of her mommy performance. Click the link above if you don't want to go to Kim's blog and read all the entries.

PETA-philes

Here's my sign.

Make your own KFC sign at KentuckyFriedCruelty.com

I saw this opportunity at Blue Star Chronicles and couldn't resist poking a little fun at folks who see no bigger problems in our society and eating chicken!