late bloomers star for Autumn

DSC00212.JPG CLOSE PINK PETUNIA
pretty pink petunia
DSC00211.JPG CLOSE WHITE PETUNIA
humble petunias shine
DSC00208.JPG YELLOW GOOD MILL BELL (1)
a single Million Bell
DSC00200.JPG ROSE OF SHARON BY GARAGE
volunteer Rose of Sharon
DSC00177.JPG PEPPY UP CLOSE (1)
Mr. Pepper
DSC00173.JPG HOSTA 2
prolific Hosta blooms
DSC00170.JPG ROSE OF SHARON CLOSE GOOD
Rose of Sharon

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DSC00163.JPG CLOUD CROC
Wild Goose Cloud OR Alligator Jaws?
DSC00159.JPG CLOUDS
reaching for the clouds
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UFO in the clouds

Mad Woman Searching for Lost Things

First published here in February 2015.    I do find this whole situation to be pertinent though…even now in May 2017….I guess I never learn!

I already looked there, Sister.

When I lose something…or more accurately have misplaced it…there is no rest for me or anyone near me, until the missing item has reappeared.  I do believe in the old prayer to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things, or is he the saint of the people who have LOST something?

Either way, I am not ashamed to say that the quickest way to recovery is to recite some version of the verse:   This one was told to me by a stranger at the flea market when I was out there selling books:

Tony, Tony, Tony…Something’s lost and can’t be found,

Please help me find it when I turn around.

Many things have been recovered soon after pleading with St. Anthony for help.  Finding lost keys are a specialty of the Saint’s, and various and sundry other missing things have been recovered….not only by me, but by various other believers.

Once I even found a silver bracelet that I had lost in the garage.  I had been sorting books and must have caught the edge of the cuff bracelet, causing it to slip off of my wrist.  That was a mad search, which included a grocery store, pharmacy, restaurant, and several other places.  My evil twin even suggested the possibility that some unscrupulous clerk had pocketed my bracelet.  (I didn’t really believe that myself, as I have a basic belief in the goodness of people.)  The bracelet turned up after several calls to St. Anthony…and an email friend who is a Tarot card reader of some note, and also has a reputation for finding lost things.

Hmm… maybe that’s why it took the Tony, Tony, Tony thing so long.   I found the bracelet under a chair, behind a stack of picture frames, under a few boxes of flea market stuff…and a plastic red tablecloth, which may or may not have been key.  Just sayin’….

THE CURRENT EMERGENCY SEARCH was one that I have entirely too often.  I mentioned in an earlier post,  about how I handle my book inventory.  Although I was bragging about how well my alphabetical inventory system works, I did include a caveat that IF a given book was not where it was supposed to be… in this case #1746–which should have been between 1745 and 1747, but was not.

No, Baby, it's not outside.

Now, this has to be a case of Murphy’s Law of Inventories, because this was the exact book that a customer ordered.  It was a book about making Art items from Buttons (the kind on shirts,) and I distinctly remembered  being in the book room holding the book and thinking “how mundane.”  Yes, that’s what I forget for being judgemental.   I also recall my son coming in with his current emergency, pinning his church “Usher” badge to his shirt, and I  had to leave the room–with the book in hand–and debating where to shelve it temporarily.

As luck would have it, the very next order that came in was for THAT VERY BOOK.  Thus the mad search was on.  I have books all over the house, some already inventoried, most not.  To cut to the chase, I found the Button book within two feet of my left arm, on a shelf where I keep books that for one reason or another are in a “waiting” status.

I had looked in the very spot several times.  It was much smaller than I had remembered it, and had slipped partially behind two neighboring books: one on Tai Chi, and one on Ribbon crafts.  The inventory numbers matched several books in the immediate space.

This whole situation where a given book is not readily located happens too often to be coincidental.  There are nearly three thousands books in my inventory, on shelves, in order.     WHY is the one on order frequently misplaced?

I guess I’ll have to ask St. Anthony that question.

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

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 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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Thinking about Gerunds

Sitting on the swing, and swinging, with Peggy
half asleep and full of bliss
and thinking about something I may have never
thought about before —except maybe in English class
back in the distant days of schooling.

In a daydreaming state, defying description,
except for some beautiful words:
lingering
meandering
singing
dreaming
swinging
remembering
enjoying
words with lovely meanings of warmth and comfort
and a glorious state of well-being.

Getting to an upright position, from such a lap of luxury,
after napping on a swing on the last day of Summer
is a fete of accomplishment in itself!
aching
smarting
limbs sleeping and creaking
glad to be alive!

©Sometimes, 2016

(Here’s a Wikipedia post that is a must for people who like Gerunds and the like.)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerund

AMAZING ODD-BALLS

MOBY

A Maine-Coon.   He is huge but his Vet says he is “not obese.”    She predicted his size when she first met him when he was a scrawny little thing I rescued from the barn.  Referring to my other cats, the Vet said “they might want to be nice to him, because he’s going to be a big boy!”     He is now in his fifteenth year.

UPDATED POST: who doubts that cats are smarter than a lot of politicians?

Physics

test suggests cats understand gravity, Japanese researchers say

“Our study is the first demonstration that cats seem to grasp the laws of physics,” said Kyoto University’s Saho Takagi. But an expert on domestic pets and author of a book about cats called the study “seriously flawed.”

[…for the rest of this article, please follow the direct link…]  washingtonpost.com/…/physics-test-suggests-cafe-cats-understand-gravity-japanese-researchers-say

[[Please Note, regular Sometimes readers— I have eliminated the original link to the entire Morning Mix column because I want to link ONLY this one article about the test about Cats.      Although other items in the column are interesting and noteworthy, some of the material is not compatible with my general view of world carryings-on….namely politics.    I do like cats, however, and believe that they should be given more cognizance, as they are clearly much further advanced that many of the rest of us. ]]

Now friends—This Washington Post article by Ben Guarino, in the paper’s Morning Mix column is fascinating.    Not that it will really surprise anyone who knows at least one cat personally, but it is some great Gee-Whiz-Science.      I wonder if it applies to ALL cats, or if it is a skill found primarily in Japanese cats.

It reminds me of Schròedingers Cat, except that his conjecture depended more on other scientists’ gullibility, and less on the Cat (if there even was one.)   Or perhaps more akin to Dr. Pavlov’s dog, who famously recognized the rattle of his food dish even when it wasn’t dinner time.

Has anyone heard whether or not Donald Trump has a cat?   Would the cat be more attractive as a candidate to run the U.S.?     Hmmm… a lot of voters have cats, that’s a given.  Remember Socks?  George W Bush’s cat?    Was it not Margaret Thatcher who had special dog-walkers on her official staff?   Did they really have little pockets of doggy treats inside their gun holsters?

 

 

 

 

More photos… once and again

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Tree skeleton…I can’t bear to cut it down. 
violets
violets
rock
rock
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Reminds me of the old North Wind of the old, old maps.

 

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Dinner time.
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Just lean right up there against the cupboards, Hyacinth, so you don’t tip over.
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Tonatiuh  says Hi.
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Baby stretching her legs. 
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Hello?  Anyone out there?

 

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Hiding out in the Oregano
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Poppy 
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What say you?
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Spiky “do.” 
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My sisters.
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Maybe Sister, Mawkin, and Bro.

grande olde dame

tinky very good
Tinkerbell

 

We have a cat named Tinkerbell
a short-haired butter-scotch yellow
never interested in fellows.

She has lived to a ripe old age
now in her eighteenth year
she is a bit thin in figure.

We have nicknamed her Missus Tinky
her real name just doesn’t fit her
she’s always been pick of the litter.

Missus Tinky dislikes kittens
she finds them very annoying
and likes them best when they’re going.

She tolerates her house mate cats
but argues and gets into  spats…
prefers the company of dogs.

© Sometimes, 2016