New paintings and regular art updates.
Just when you think
The day couldn’t get more cat
Another view arrives
Like a third bus,
At the same time ,
With the same number,
On the same route.
Squashed on the lid
My well balanced cat
Canterlevered out
Over space,
Your spine curves and stretches
Round like a bridge
Supported at both ends
Strong.
Your head was tucked down
All snuggled till you saw me.
Levitation is your trick today.
I’ve seen squirrels up there, but never a cat on our neighbours chimney. In fact thinking about it I’m surprised I haven’t seen one before. The back of the building is where an old shed and outhouse used to be. In the way of these things someone had converted the back into a bathroom but had pretty much left the roof and chimney in situ. The only change being that they have capped the chimney with a large slab of concrete. I guess this is a pretty good vantage point for cats. There is increased activity from the birds so they are prowling around looking to chase things.
This is not one of my cats which both live entirely indoors. But our garden does attract a lot of the neighbours cats Luckily there is no sign of feathers to indicate birds have been taken, but it is a worry. I also saw another cat high up in our privet hedge this morning. It was very wobbly. Any bird would have flown before it could be attacked. 
This, believe it or not is a blue tit in the garden. It was too far away to get much detail. It’s waiting to fly to one of our numerous bird feeders.
Image copyright Sue Vincent. From Sue’s #writephoto photo prompt.
This is my first ever ping back so I hope it works……
The stone gateway was imposing, the heavy gates looked too big to push open easily. The first time I walked through the gates I was 10 years old and very nervous. My grandma lived in the big house, but as we had only just moved back after several years abroad I had never met her. Seeing the gates and the stone gateposts made me think that someone very important lived there.
I remembered the long tree lined drive. The dappled sunlight warming the golden gravel. I wanted to know how far it was to the front door so I started counting steps, but lost track around 300. As I turned a bend in the path I saw short, grey haired lady in horn rimmed glasses, she didn’t look as scary as I imagined her. She was waiting at the top of three steps made of grey stone. I wanted to run up to her, but mom had told me to be polite. So I walked up slowly and quietly said hello.
That had been 40 years ago. My gran must have been about 50 but I had thought she was very old. I remembered her putting a record on for me, a Beatles song. ” Help ” I think it was? From then on she would always play music when I arrived, some pop music, other times classical music like Stravinsky or Rachmaninov. Sometimes we danced together and laughed at each other.
Today was a sad day. The last time I would walk through those gates. I remembered all the happy times I had spent there. Afternoons after school always seemed sunny. Gran would give me a snack and Mom would pick me up when she finished work.
Now both of them were gone. Today I had to lock up grans house and hand over the keys to the estate agent. The funeral had been a week ago. I had her favourite music played at the ceremony.
As I left I shut the gates gently, knowing I would never walk there again…..
He woke up in darkness, the window he has climbed through last night was now boarded up. He was alone in the barn, but his hands were tied behind his back. He heard a quiet rustling in the straw. A squeak and he realised there were either rats or mice sharing the space with him…..
Everything had been quiet when he had crept into the barn about 8 o’clock the previous evening. He’d been setting up the camera when something or someone had hit him on the head.
What the hell do I do now? he thought. I’m stuck.
He glanced about and he saw something black in the corner, an old scythe? Yes stck under some sacking. It was so easy in mystery stories. Just rub against the blade and escape…. Two hours later he’d got through one strand of rope, his wrists were bruised and cut and he was sweating with the exertion of trying to escape. If he ever got out of here he would have words with his mates…
This was not how a stag party was meant to go!
Tomorrow is March
Month of winds
Whirling round
Sharp and clean..
March comes in
Like a lion
Fights with the world
Shreds trees.
Like a dragon
Breathing cold fire
Bringing rain
And late snow ….
Or
March comes in like a lamb
First day of meteorological spring…
Gentle breezes
Kiss the blossom
Arriving early
In warm breath.
Then the old saying goes
In like a lion, out like a lamb
Or
In like a lamb out like a lion…
Whatever way..
March Roars !
What does the word green mean to you? A mixture of two primary colours, blue and yellow? The green of photosynthesis, plants growing and spreading across the earth. Or green (ecological) politics, trying to get us humans to realise we need to take more care of the world?
If its the latter what small things can we do to help?
You could try growing some of your food from seed. Maybe some tomatoes or a pepper plant. Even if you don’t have a garden you can try growing things on a bright window ledge.
A bit more space and you could grow a tree. You can buy miniature fruit trees which grow masses of fruit on a small plant. This is done by a process of grafting where the fruit you want to grow is grafted onto a rootstock which tends to be more vigorous than the top of the tree. You can buy ones which bear two or three different types of fruit on one trunk. Or grow some potato’s or other vegetables. Maybe get an allotment?
More green ideas include recycling. The planets oceans are becoming clogged with plastic. That useful but ubiquitous molecule that seems to have over taken modern living. We don’t choose to let turtles choke on plastic bags, but they are doing, mistaking them for jellyfish which they naturally predate.
Green also means letting animals alone. Letting dwindling populations of Lions, Tigers, Elephants, Rhino, Zebra, Polar Bears, and others survive. Not hunting them to extinction. I dread getting images on my Facebook page showing hunters glorying over the death of a giraffe or lion they have just shot.
Why do we do it? There are scarce resources on this planet but we seem bent on destroying or feasting on everything we see.
Where are the inventors who will improve technology and cut our massive use of fossil fuels? When are we going to realise that global warming is real, whether it is created by man or other means. It doesn’t matter what you blame we still need to try and do something about it. We should share clean technologies with less advanced countries so we all gain an advantage.
About a week ago I saw a news item. Children around the country taking a day off school to march and protest against global warming and point out that they are the ones who will inherit our mess and mistakes.
Green must be on all our minds, green should be the first colour we think about. I hope green is the future..
I feel like I’m sinking down into a hole. So tired and aching. Viruses are horrible – how can something so small, barely alive, cause pain and misery? I am fed up of having this sore throat My voice is gruff and hoarse.
I have food in the fridge that needs cooking but I don’t feel like doing anything, but I can’t leave it for another day.
Still I guess it’s not as bad as some illnesses. I will get over it eventually. I guess I’m basically feeling sorry for myself.
These plants are growing outside in a box and my husband bought them in to show me as my cold is no better and I haven’t been outside because I feel too poorly.
What are they? They look like bluebells but they are not curved over like British ones. They might be Spanish bluebells which grow upright, with thicker stems. But bluebells don’t normally flower till April or May? Also the flowers are sticking out sideways. I guess they are actually a form of hyacinth? They don’t have many bells on them but they do smell like hyacinths. On the other hand they are not like the ones we had on the windowsill and are nothing like grape hyacinths that we sometimes grow in the spring.
So my question is to any gardeners out there…. What are they?
The cat lay on the mat,
paws curved under his chin.
Soft black and white fur.
Ready to purr ….
His eyes are sharp
His claws are sharper
A miaow of satisfaction
comes from his mouth
Asleep, but ready for action.
Old Belladonna Green watched as the moon rose. It was full and glowing tonight. Just the right time to be abroad for some witchery…..
She stood on top of the hill looking down at the old town. What enchantments could she weave to change people’s lives tonight?
She was a solo witch. A bit like solitary bees. Not part of a coven, but quietly making a difference where she could. The world was too modern for her really. No apprentice had been to see her for twenty years and her stock of charms had worn out long ago. Yes she could go to the local magic shop, but the stuff in there was mainly tat. Who wanted to buy a whoopee cushion to help indigestion?
And the Internet? It spread such falsehoods that no one knew what to believe anymore. When texting arrived she almost gave up. As it was she had to be very circumspect about what she did. All those satellites and droney things. She was good at weaving invisibility which she needed to keep out of sight of CCTV! More than once she had been forced to take the form of a black cat to avoid detection.
She looked over at Larch Street. A small row of terraces which were humble but cozy.
Oh yes. Mr Hughes, he needed some help, he was losing his hair rapidly…. She climbed up the drainpipe. She was still quite nifty at climbing even though she was 74… As she had thought, the bedroom window was open to let the cool moorland air in. She pushed the sash window open and deftly stepped through. Her soft shoes made no sound… She had a pouch of green herbs on her belt and she moved over to where Mr Hughes was sleeping. Gentle fingers massaged the green goo onto his head, he snored and turned in the bed, putting an arm round his wife. Belladonna stood back, approving her own work, then swiftly left the way she had come.
As the alarm clock went off the following morning Mr Hughes went into the bathroom. He was rather shocked to see in the his face in the mirror… A full head of hair…. But why was it blonde?
Mallaband-Brown