Don’t Put Anything Near The 2 Windows re-blogged from “Zombies Ate My Brains”

Here’s a great blog that just came to my attention…different and delightful!    The photos are remarkable.   Thanks for the implied permission to Re-Blog, Maggie Wilson…

 

The Zombies Ate My Brains

When we were at Florence’s last week, I didn’t take pictures of the interior. Another time, perhaps.

However, I did see some rustic outbuildings that caught my eye. She gave me a very short tour of the grounds. Unfortunately the black flies descended and drove her indoors.

Now that means I not only would like permission to document the original dining and living rooms, I need to get the answer to this note that I found on the barn door:

Don’t Put Anything Near the 2 Windows… Like That Dresser

Here’s what else I found that fills the bill for Norm’s Thursday Doors.

Also, a couple of drive sheds and an ore house.

Finally, I couldn’t resist a non-door shot. Florence was telling us how she helped apply the preservative to the wooden shakes that cover her house.

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Thursday Doors is a weekly photo…

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The Great Debate, a re-blog

Yes, folks, the Cavs did come in second last night—they can’t win them all, right?   We here in Cleveland tend to be dogged fans of our sports teams…which is to our credit. It is rare that I even read sports columns…let alone read them twice and then repost them on my own blog. But here goes. Thanks for the re-blog MacWilsonOne!

Media and Consulting Solutions

With the Golden State Warriors on the brink of winning the 2017 NBA Finals, there is one question I keep hearing. Is it fair to have so much fire-power on one team? Let’s not deal with the “what-ifs” and stick to the facts. The facts are Kevin Durant, Steph Curry, Klay Thompson, and Draymond Green are on the same team. They are up 3-0 on a Cleveland Cavaliers team with arguably the best player in the world playing for them, who is complimented quite nicely by Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love. The Golden State Warriors won 73 games last season, surpassing my Chicago Bulls for the best record in NBA history, and didn’t win the championship. The Cleveland Cavaliers did, mounting a historic comeback in the process. With all the facts in place, I FULLY understand that people will still ONLY understand from their level of perception.

So understand this…

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There’s nothing as grand as a royal wedding (a bit of British history)

http://healthskillet.com/stunning-photos-from-pippa-middletons-wedding/37/

 

One of my favorite bourgeoise extravaganzas has always been a Royal Wedding.      So when I followed the trail to a set of photos described as “photos you weren’t supposed to see.”     I usually do not like following the pointing arrows from photo to photo in this feature, but in spite of myself sometimes, they are hard to resist.

The Wedding of Pippa Middleton, who (for anyone stranded on the moon for the past few years)  is the sister of Princess Kate, wife of Prince William….who, in the scheme of things here is the son of the late Princess Diana and Prince Charles, grandson of the reigning Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip.    Prince Charles is the heir-apparent to the British throne.

True, Pippa Middleton is not really a “royal,” nor is her new husband.    She might be called a “royal-in-law” possibly?     But for purposes of this post and on general principles, Pippa is close enough to qualify.

These photos are very enjoyable to look at…beautiful bride, cute and “real” children, and fabulous hats worn by all the women.

These photos are not the usual stiff and perfect photos with everyone in the wedding party,  including the children,  lined up like little soldiers…under orders not to move, cry, make faces, or get dirty.      Obviously just having royal blood in the veins doesn’t make serving as bridesmaids/flowers girls, or page boys, any less trying.   So these candid photos of the wedding party, the children under the herding of Princess Kate for the afternoon.    Riding herd on six little children is not an easy thing to do.

My favorite British Royal of all time was back in the 1930s and 40s when the King of England was George VI, and the young Elizabeth (now the Queen) was a young girl….and her sister Margaret were the princesses.    Princess Margaret was my favorite…she was about six years old (like me at the time) and she was always doing cool stuff like dancing on tables and what not, under the beaming eye of her doting father King George.   Whereas Elizabeth was already being prepared for succession to the throne, Margaret was not under the same rules and expectations of propriety and decorum.

…end of history lesson.

 

(RE-BLOGGED) President Lies About The Real Reasons For Loss Of US Manufacturing Jobs, Part I

Thanks for posting this, Gronda….I always appreciate your thorough research and commentary on the news. Thanks for allowing the REBLOG!

Gronda Morin

Image result for photos of german auto manufacturing plants in the USATo hear the way the Republican President Donald Trump tells it, the USA is losing manufacturing jobs because company executives have been moving jobs out of the country while omitting the fact that most manufacturing jobs are being replaced because of advances in technology like automated and robotic systems.

The president is looking to the past, when he promises coal miners that he is bringing back coal mining jobs when the energy companies have moved on by preferring to utilize renewable sources of energy.

When the president plays tough cop on immigration to where farmers can’t hire enough migrants to pick the crops, the farmer who cannot find US workers is being forced to resort to automated systems as well.

The president’s complaint about the US having a trade deficit with Germany doesn’t take into account the number of German autos which are being manufactured in US southern states and…

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Alone…by poet Samartha Ingle, re-blogged from her site

Today’s re-blog is this charming and meaningful work by poet Samartha Ingle. Thanks, Samartha.

Samartha Ingle

In love, at peace. 
Is it wrong to want alone. 
To not miss and not be missed. 
To want nothing and no one more.

Liar people say, liar maybe.

Refusing to acknowledge
this internal commotion
leads to dry eyes,
as dry as the ocean.

Liar you say, liar maybe.

At times it gets lonely,
at times of peace.
My heart for this,
my soul for this.

Liar they say, liar maybe.

Childhood heart didn’t
crave it as much.
Pushed in it still, 
circumstances and such.

Liar again ? liar maybe.

In love with the word,
at peace with the world.
Alone, though never lonely.

Liar ! liar indeed.

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childhood memories of war, re-posted from September 2016

This post originally was published here on SOMETIMES in September of 2016. I will re-post it today in keeping with a post by fellow blogger Ginsberg420, also re-blogged today.

SOMETIMES

Perhaps the most vivid memories of nursery tales were not of bunnies or bantering fairies…but of War and its aftermath.     We here in the United States did not suffer the horrors that children in other countries did, the bombings and air raids and worse.   But such accounts were very much vicariously present.    And directly following the Hot War followed the Cold War, with its insidious psychological terror.

I was eleven when World War II ended in 1945.    What I write here are my impressions as a child.

Here in the Cleveland, Ohio area we had three major daily newspapers in Cleveland,
in the 1940s-1950s.    Subtlety was not a virtue to our dueling newspapers, bent on gathering new and worse  predictions and statistics to entertain and scare the heck out of the readership.     Everyone read the papers…there was no television in the vast majority  of our homes, and except for newsreel productions in the movie…

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The tyranny of fear, reblogged from “420 ways to reach the sun.”

(Here is a new-to-me site I found yesterday. I really like the site, theme and layout, and especially the content. This article on the inconsistencies and idiocracies of politics and the “will of people.”   I really relate to what the author says., and the way in which she writes. I have written elsewhere about my personal experience with fear and sanitation of war back in the 1940s when young children knew all about the chances of surviving a nuclear blast and could discuss it sensibly. ( I will re-post my Me and the War next.)  Thank you, ginsberg420!   🙂

420 ways to reach the sun

The face of fear has no expression.

Heaving dreams are hard to realize in a world where being a pacifist is akin to being a “radical idealist”. I remember when my father called me that. In this entire political rhetoric of normalization of war, it’s the opposition that is demonized. It’s a tragedy to be 20 and deprived of the privilege of being naïve. Never mind the fact that he owns more than the rest of the country put together. Never mind his disregard for the value of human life. Never mind the heaving dreams he stepped on with a smirk in his head. Never mind his rage, his tyranny, his plutocracy, his fast flying drones. Never mind.

Growing up to the politics of war hasn’t been easy, but watching a hateful, angry plutocrat get elected as one of the most influential men in the world has shaken me. Not…

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A Parallax of Thoughts, re-blogged from poet Amit Rahman.

Amit Rahman has published this thoughtful and pensive poem. His excellent blog has a new header picture…and interesting theme.  I like it a lot. Thanks for the re-blog, Amit!

Poems

O Butterfly, flap not your wings in Africa!
Each time you do a violent storm rips me apart,
though my love is not like the madness of oil’s price,
moved up and down by the pride of Caligula
and nor am I the Emperor, O silent Sky!
    

I was not born a thousand years ago, neither
would I live to see a thousand Springs come and go.
I wonder, had Nero known he would soon be dead,
would he still be playing on! Perhaps now we shall know
from the man with a caterpillar on his head!
   

But the Sky remains mostly as silent as God
and everywhere the mob drowns all innocence.
Despite the loud thunders, raindrops fall on the sea.
I smell the desert wind then a storm rips through me!

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Magic of WordPress support

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/25/reblogging/

 

I love the way WordPress support people just hang on my every word and serendipitously post the perfect article pertaining to questions on which I am obsessing at any given time.

OK, logic tells me that it isn’t really magic, more like internet triggers that connect information sites with people who want to know.     I admit that I have been searching the support pages for re-blogging information.

The question of re-blogging is one that bothers me a lot.   The rules of correct citation of articles, papers, and texts are not strictly enforced as they are in a language class at a high school or university.     No one whips out a theoretical red pencil and “corrects” what we write, and plagiarism is rampant…although it is mostly not intentional.

Sure, it could be argued that commenters in an online chat room don’t know and don’t care if facts are really true or if they are “fake facts.”

So what do we expect from blogs?    At times all I expect is a nice poem, or a page of pretty flowers, an outrageous point-of-view or page of insults.     Jokes, comics.    How to raise children; How to raise chickens; How to bake an apple pie…all interesting.     But I also turn to certain bloggers that are knowledgeable and educated to some degree on topics of world upheaval or historical background on new or on-going crisis spots across the globe.     No one can know everything about everything.

This is where the subject of re-blogging comes in.   I often re-blog posts from other bloggers.     Criteria for a reblog is that my readers know exactly where the piece comes from: who wrote it, the reason for re-blogging it, and where to find it.      Sometimes it is difficult to trace back to an original source…then decide if it should be para-phrased or quoted directly.

The new re-blogging system of WordPress is good, it takes care of notifications to the original blogger…although there should always be that information in the very top of an article.   Admittedly I’m lax about this, and although try to specify the original source in the headline of the post, and include an introduction as to the author.    A link is easily copied from the address bar.

The thing that worries me is that someone will think that a post is mine, where in fact it is written by someone else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Why Nuts?] A look into the unique creative art of blogger I-Shan Lin…

Here is a delightful and different blog by I-Shan LIn. Her drawings and writing are fresh and creative. Thanks for the permission to re-blog.

“I’ve got all I need. Me, a paper boat and lots of nuts. So there’s nothing to be afraid of.” 

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pack a lunch and let’s go!

http://www.foxnews.com/travel/2017/04/14/world-s-most-dangerous-path-is-reopening-to-hikers.html

NO Folks…..I did not get this from watching FOXNEWS!!!!   Yahoo.   Anyway….it is a real mind-boggler, especially for someone like me who freaks out at an atrium in a Mall.   I just don’t do heights…even a ladder will weaken the knees.

The Google-Street-Map is spectacular, 3-D view of the gorge and the walkway.       I see there’s a Restaurant-Bar located along the trail.

Oh, and helmets are required of all participants because of the 300-foot drop.

Anybody want to go?

Death is late…Re-blogged from writer George Agak’s site, Sliver of Darkness.

I am very touched by this excellent poem by George Agak.      His work is very graphic, and grabs ahold of the reader and doesn’t let go.       It is an accomplishment to achieve such a deeply emotional work of writing, and as you folks know, I am not subject to being moved by hyperbole….so I appreciate what I may call beauty-in-horror.      It is a sad fact that this kind of terrible scenario exists in our modern world.       Thanks for letting me re-blog, George!

 

Sliver of Darkness

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I will write a letter and toss it in the wind
Or strip your hammock and toss in the river
I might be dead when they reach you
Nothing has changed
Yet nothing has remained the same
The gods have been vexed
All this time they’ve held rain

Grass still grows
Watered by endless flow of blood
The valley has changed its appeal
The shades we once rested under
Now home rotting humans
And vultures feast
The freedom fighters have fought the system
Then rebelled against their prior motives
They kill anything in human gait

But still….
The government lives
Not counting the ones lost
They fly outside to drink and dine
Because this nation is rotten
Their appetite might wane

When they took you, bro,
I couldn’t fight them
That’s cowardice I know
But death isn’t for the brave either

Bro, this nation is rich
You could have seen…

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among other things: a new blog

among other things

No I really don’t need another blog.   I am happy with SOMETIMES, which is a conglomerate of  photos, poems, eclectic ramblings…and contributions from other bloggers who have consented to allow their posts to be re-blogged here.

I admit that the temptation to tinker with WordPress blogs is almost over-whelming, always searching for the perfect blog.   I invest each year in a Premium site, which means choosing great colors and various innovations that make a blog…well, unique…in the intended use of the word to mean “one-of-a-kind”—not “unusual,” or (god-forbid) “amazing!.”    Sorry, I am not trying to be the grammar/vocabulary/Nazi….it’s just that I hate the misuse of perfectly good, precise words.

This new blog, which I am naming “AMONG OTHER THINGS,” is not a Premium blog, although if I find myself using it frequently I will upgrade.   Just choosing the colors alone is worth the cost.

Also just last week bought…

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Who Knows Cats?

I am compelled to re-post this photo of MAWKIN and a cat poem from last year. In this shot he was observing our efforts to clean the garage.

SOMETIMES

DSC03167

 Kitty…
Where do you go
When you vanish like that?
How do you reappear so soon?
Why are you napping now?
What is your game?
Who knows?

© Sometimes, 2016

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