It was 'neighbourhood exchange' weekend over the long holiday weekend. An opportunity to put out to the curb things you no longer want or need (along with a 'free' sign of course) and an opportunity for your fellow citizens to cruise the city looking for treasure in your trash.
We had a few things to put out. Nothing too exciting. A few old resin lawn chairs that had seen better days but were still sturdy, a matching table, a set of Mopar glasses, cushions for the chairs, kids toys and a magnifying lamp were the stars of the collection which should give you an idea of how humble our offerings were.
Everything went out by 5pm Friday night with the plan to throw out whatever was left over on Saturday night. Around 8pm a van/suv type vehicle pulled up out front. A young man (college age I would think) bounced out and came galloping up the driveway waving his hands over his head at us as we sat watching from the living room window. The door bell rang and I answered. Could we have the chairs he wanted to know...were they really to be taken. I assured him he could have the chairs and anything else he wanted. He galloped madly back down the drive still waving his arms over his head. Three more enthusiastic young me exited the car. We watched as they bounced around our trash heap like excited bunnies in a carrot patch, laughing and exchanging high fives with each other. The trash pile went steadily down. One last look and one last wave at us and they bounced back into their vehicle and took off. "What Larks, Pip" "What Larks"
Tuesday, 23 May 2017
Monday, 22 May 2017
Poetry Monday is brought to us by Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border. (you can find her in my sidebar) Why not join in...write, read, critique, share your ideas and opinions. Always room for one more. It's free, it's fun....what could be better?
Here we go:
Here we go:
No Fool's Gold
The dandelion is a pest,
putting gardeners to the test.
All summer long there is no rest,
as we strive to evict our uninvited guest.
Yet, there is one who thinks it’s best
when grandchildren, at her behest,
bring handfuls of the cheerful gold
and in her hands lay them to rest.
Then Midas, with all his gold,
a sultan with his jewels old,
are not so rich as she.
See...what did I tell you? Fun! It doesn't even have to rhyme or keep rhythm .... just express yourself.
Thursday, 18 May 2017
We hare having some decent weather here in Southwestern Ontario Canada. It's about bloody time. Because it is lovely and I wish to spend as much time as possible outside in it even if I do sneeze myself right off my feet....because it is a long weekend coming up....because the kidlets will be coming and I have preparations to make....I will be AWOL once again until Monday and Poetry Monday. Have a fantabulous long weekend if you celebrate such in your area of the world...enjoy the weather if you are having good weather.....relax......have fun.
Tuesday, 16 May 2017
Words for Wednesday is a writing prompt designed to get us all creating. This week the words can be found at Elephants Child (you can find her in my sidebar) and are as follows:
Agile, blast, cacophony, desire, eager, flirt
Ground, hidden, injury, jealous, kindness and lament
A cacophony of cheering and shouting rose from the crowd as, with a blast of the whistle and an agile swing up the steps, the engineer took his place at the controls, eager to flirt with the brute strength of the giant engine and with a desire to keep on schedule regardless of obstacles in his path.
The engine, a coal car and water tank, five passenger cars, a diner and a caboose made up the length of the behemoth standing, poised for action at the station. Not a soul in the watching crowd but felt a twinge of jealousy of those fortunates already seated in the luxurious cars.
Miles down the track, a fox, injured and gone to ground lay hidden in the gorse by the tracks. As the train rounded the first curve it stepped haltingly onto the tracks and turned terrified eyes toward the giant metal beast bearing down on it. The engineer slammed on his brakes. The cars jackknifed and swerved off the tracks. There were no survivors that day. In the jumble of steaming metal and broken bodies there was no mercy, no kindness. In years to come the event would be recalled in song, The Lament Of Old 59. No one remembered the fox.
Why not join in and have some fun. Use the words any way you like or just use them for inspiration. It's fun, it's free.....what could go wrong?
Monday, 15 May 2017
Poetry Monday was started by Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border. (you can find her in my sidebar). There are no rules to Poetry Monday except for posting your work on Monday (what else?). Why not join in? Your poem can be in any form and does not have to rhyme...just be an expression of your thoughts. Simple right? Write, read, critique, share your thoughts. It's fun, it's free....what could go wrong?
the words drip
like rain on ice
the calcified surface
of the brain
in shallow soil
sending up new shoots
until the pen
clenched in stiffening fingers
can’t keep up
to the flow
backside glued to chair
I am reborn
by the power
power of words
Sunday, 14 May 2017
The weather outside is not frightful, in fact, it's quite delightful...but...for a few weeks in spring I am wretched as I deal with running, itchy, burning eyes, an itchy palate, a dripping nose, plugged sinuses and sneeze attacks. It's only for two or three weeks...I am grateful it's not for the whole summer. As soon as the tree pollen dies down I'll be just fine. In the mean time, I'll get the ducts cleaned, get a new allergy filter installed in the furnace and keep the windows closed. Aerius anyone? Aaaachoooooo