It’s Thursday again, and time for sharing our doors. Dan Antion of No Facilities is our host and if you follow the link you’ll enjoy his historical doors and meet other terrific bloggers and maybe visit their sites too!
Doors can be art, they can be portals to fun and imagination, even adventure. Then there can be necessary doors disguised as whimsical entertainments of the past. Such is the case with our little Playhouse Laundry here. I don’t know how exactly, but it feels less like work going to do my laundry these days. As soon as I see the pink paint and step inside I am transported back to a time when playing house was a delight.
Oh, I still enjoy laundry and love caring for my home. I actually prefer when I am able to hang the laundry out to dry. I wish I had a clothesline here but sadly I don’t. Still, I never dry most of my clothes in a machine other than towels and such. On laundry days it is quite the sight in our little home. But the damp clothes under the ceiling fan feels like air conditioning. 😉
See the basket? This proves I actually do the laundry myself!
I love the little lace edging on the shelves (that no one uses)
The view from inside ain’t too shabby either! 😉
How about this view though?
Each sunset is just a little bit different from the last one.
Next week I plan to take you on our most recent mini adventure. I’m sure there were doors, or portals.. definitely windows!
Okay, music is my life and this post brought to mind a very old country tune.
Well, Linda Hill has this year’s #JusJoJan monthly prompt going out with a bang. I’m so glad I had more time to join in the fun and this is another of my favorite words.
Being raised by a father whose sarcasm and quick wit was a daily occurrence has been the saving grace for my naturally sensitive Cancer nature. For him nothing was off limits for a tease, teaching us to laugh at ourselves before anyone else did.
If I twisted my ankle or jammed my pinky (as I so often did) while playing basketball, he would knit his brows in serious concern, bend it gently and say, “Yep, I think we’re gonna’ have to amputate.” As an injured kid I got frustrated by his seeming lack of concern, but I appreciate the fact that I can tolerate one heck of a lot of pain before I get crazy.
In our house we heard a lot of superstitions from my father because his mother was very metaphysically connected. My Daddy often saw deceased members of the family in a dream the very night they passed, although he tried to be pragmatic about it to us. So we grew up with a lot of old superstitions like:
If you already have bread on your plate and ask for another slice it means unexpected company is coming.
Always sweep out the back door so you don’t sweep your good luck away.
If your nose itches, someone wants to kiss you.
You should only cut your hair on a full moon so it will grow quick and healthy.
If your hand itches, money is coming. (Can I tell you how many times that one has disappointed me over the years?)
If your ears burn someone is talking about you. (I hated that one and wish it were the only time it was true.🤦♀️)
So, it stands to reason that when my foot or other body part would itch, I ran to him all excited and asked what it meant.
He would look at me solemnly and say, “You say your foot itches? Well, you know what that means?”
I looked at him expectantly, my young heart waiting for some profound prophetic revelation and he replied,
“If your foot itches it means.. you need to scratch it.”
And now you know why facetious is one of my favorite words. Of course it leads to a lot of explaining when you deal with others who don’t have an understanding of twisted harmless humor. 😉
My kids know it well.
Thanks again Linda! And Susan for this, our last prompt of January. And a big thank you to my friend Dan over at No Facilities. Not only is he a great boss and customer at the bar but I get all the prompts from his wonderful blog because it is the first one I read every day. Check all these talented writers out and visit some of the links in Linda’s comments.
You know there has to be a photo and some music. 😉 have a great week everyone!
Doesn’t he look just full of mischief?
And one of his favorite songs that just screams,
“Facetious!”
We always listened for it to be played on our local kids’ show, Buckskin Bill.
Why the cliche’ title? Because now I am finally old enough to feel this way. I have always cherished memories, but sweet and bittersweet; but the train has finally pulled into the station marked ‘Memory Lane’ for me. So many places, so many friends, so much sweetness. I don’t think of the sorrows for they obstruct my view of the present. As the train rolls down the tracks, these moments slip past the windows in a blur. I long to revisit them but know memories are sweetest when viewed in the rearview mirror of time. I am thankful I’m a ‘photo hoarder’ as I have been called. And I think a few others are as well. They can curse me when I’m gone.. and weep. 📸🎥📼💻
And as much as my mother and sister didn’t like this song, it is the one playing non stop in my head right now.
Walking my Daddy through eye surgery
My favorite dog.. ever. Cheyenne
This gang. Can you spot my favorite guy here?
What happens in Costa Rica should stay in Costa Rica!
We met more wild than mild..
Family..
And friends from everywhere we lived..
Foster families from school days
Those shades, bro..
There were warm oatmeal cookies in that bag I have death grip on. I thought they were all mine. Boy, was I mistaken..
Monkey love..
Stepping out of my comfort zone to do a poetry slam
My sis!
These guys… trying get the attention of the gulls…🤦♀️
It’s such a beautiful life…
The Barba Roja gang!
The moon turns red..
Our buddy Mike, the main reason we chose Costa Rica back then
And this guy. Miss you, Daddy ❤️
Sam..
I am in love with camping and rivers and.. oh yeah, my kids.
And butterflies!
That time we got tattooed together. You guys da best!
My butterfly soul screaming to emerge.. at least on Halloween
So many Mardi Gras days..
Wait! Wait.. I only have one banana!
Birthday buddy for life!
Dudes, you make me smile.
Never too old to make new friends
The only wedding dress I ever wore. Didn’t like it. It pricked my skin.
The hair, oh Lord, the hair!
Snack love..
The minuscule magnificence..
Friends who held me up
And shared treasured moments with me
New beginnings are the sweetest..
❤️❤️❤️
A mission trip
Best friends forever
I’m Cheryl. Fly me…🤦♀️
Being grandparents
Family gatherings in the time of Covid
All the little bunnies..
Professional friends that support you
Was I ever really six?? That cake was tinted mint green.
Where would we be without them? Our breath, the very essence of life, is shared with us by our friends, the trees.
Imagine when the world was new
so fresh, still wet
with glistening dew
Pristine!
~a golden moment in the thought of Creation
These gentle giants, Earth’s sentries
ever watchful and enduring
have seen everything,
given humankind
their best..
And yet..
Do we take the time to watch them sway
or touch their skin while in their shadows play?
With the sun’s kiss they grow,
their arms outstretched to
feel its glow
Look closely so that you might see
they struggle just the same as we
against the suffocating tangle
of predators that strangle.
Still they rise,
their arms to the skies-
lifting us up to share the view,
ignoring the wounds we inflict as they do!
Cooling shade for family fun
Silent witness to life undone
Nature’s drama in constant motion..
while some prefer less motion-
the notion that time moves
quickly is a lie.
It is we that let the moments slip by…
until we rest beneath their heavy arms
finally comforted by the shade
and laid to climb no more
They are broken by the wind,
yet stand
Like friendship untouched by the shifting sand
of time
When suppressed they simply find another way
of growing, showing
us the way
to survive
and thrive,
by digging our fingers into the earth
A quiet place of contemplation
Springing colors that bring elation
Falling into step with dying
crimson red, their blood is shed, but
no crying!
For they are mighty, enduring, fearless!
Every bird in every tree is counting on their shelter.
Can we walk lightly on their beds,
avoiding helter skelter,
to see the love they express?
Can we feel the soft caress,
hear the gentle whisper
and see the smile of Mother Nature?
Have our hearts grown so cold
we cannot feel the pain of Earth’s great loss?
If so, then what remains?
All life shall be lost without breath, without light, without love.
Teach your children well….
This post was brought to you by Linda Hill’s #SoCS prompt. I hope you’ll take a moment to visit her site and meet other great bloggers.
These photos are for my good friend Dan Antion of No Facilities I was late to the #ThursdayDoors prompt this week, but his post made me dig out these photos of New Year’s Eve shenanigans with our boys. I mean, what better way to dispose of the dried out gingerbread house project than blowing it up with firecrackers? Yep, the critters ate well that night. 😜🤭
