New paintings and regular art updates.
My first ever digital drawing using a mouse. I did it in 1999. I actually got it in my local open art exhibition. I guess it was unusual at the time although it is rather rough and ready. I found it on my Facebook memories. It isn’t as bright as the original. I’m not sure what happened to it.
I do love how my hanging baskets grow. They build up and then splurge like a firework exploding in slow motion. Petunias (Surfinias) and Begonias are the main flowers, then small flowers and trailing small leaves. There are also fushias in some of the other baskets.
I rely on the small nursery where we buy them to create a wonderful summer spectacle. They never fail to give me joy over the summer. I usually plant up other flowers to fill in the gaps around the yard, although my touch has been lacking with everything that happened over the last several months. My hubby has added some extra plants, sunflowers, clematis, montbretia, a few osteospermums. Missing are pelagoniums, I think they were bought before I even thought of getting some. Still it’s been a good display. I will try and get some closeups if I can safely get out of the back door.
Have you ever podded or shelled peas?
When I was little we used to sit in the back yard and shell the peas dad had grown.
The garden was on the other side of a path that ran behind the houses. The yards were covered in slate blue coloured bricks. I would sit with my mom and siblings, she would hand out peas in the pod. I remember you pressed along one side of the peapod, the seam of it split and a row of beautiful peas sat along the other edge, then you hooked them out with your thumb. Sweet green peas falling into the bowl. Many peas didn’t go into the bowl, but into my mouth instead. It was a pleasure to eat them. They never tasted sweeter and fresher.
Other things that went on in the yard? I remember it snowing in February. Mom collected fresh snow off the yard wall. She used the water to make her pancake mix for Shrove Tuesday. I think she thought they tasted better than using “corporation pop” ( tap water). Probably because of chorine in the tap water?
Memories, they spring to mind without volition.
She left us almost a year ago
Gone somewhere else, I don’t know.
A face I’ll never see again
Unless on a screen that isn’t used
And only occasionally appears
As a memory of a reflected moment…..
She thought that?
She agreed with that?
A smile twitches my lips
She agreed with me?
Then the memory fades
The face crumples
I cry again.
Wandering backwards and forwards on crutches to the bathroom and my armchair. I can’t help remembering when I was younger. We would set out on a cycle ride or a walk. We used to visit the North of Manchester, around the pennines. Into Wales and see spectacular mountains. Up to Yorkshire and around Ingleborough. Up steep slopes on our bikes then down one long winding valley that took us seven miles back down to our campsite (I was pleased with my map reading that day).
Being ill or injured is difficult. I can’t ignore it, but I guess I have to be a patient patient! But I want to do simple things like washing up. When I can support my weight I will, then cook, the eventually I will have to tidy up, hubby is trying, but he doesn’t quite get organisational ideas. Like putting shopping in the fridge safely! Or how to cook chicken when you have never done it in your life! Time heals I guess.
I wish I was out and about, that I could just stand at the sink and do the washing up. But I guess it’s less than five days since I pulled a ligament in my foot and about eight since the car door slammed into my other leg and cut a hole in it.
What are you curious about?
How does the person setting a prompt come up with a question. And more interesting than that, how do you ask it politely.
The questions set are open to interpretation. Are you honest, but giving away your data to someone who shouldn’t be allowed the information as they might steal it? Or are you insincere and keep all those bits of information to yourself.
The questions have to be generic, I guess. Able to be answered quickly and simply, or answered in a more complex way. When we answer, is the information going to be misused? Or will it just sit here in the blogasphere, ignored, waiting to be discovered. Maybe that’s why we answer these questions. To leave our mark on the world. Or leave a seperate question instead.
Write about a random act of kindness you’ve done for someone.
I try and help most people. I will not go into details, but in my previous job I used to try and help the people I was employed to look after. If they were not being helped by other staff I used to get involved and see what I could do.
I guess I’ve given someone an umbrella when she had nothing to help keep her dry. I’ve driven hitch hikers up to places I wasn’t even going to. Last week someone stopped us as we got in the car. He was a stranger but had a big bag of shopping and asked for a lift up our hill. We took him to his door..
I do things without considering how it will affect me. I think helping people is important. If you can help you should.
Lavender, lovely flower, place for bees to sip and feed. Likes hot and dry conditions. The aromatic oils create a delightful scent. Growing in fields of purple and green. Row upon row of beautiful flowers. People still make little bags of lavender flowers to sit under their pillows and help with sleep.
I have tried to grow it but it’s too damp and shady in our garden. I might grow a small plant, but it never flourishes like these plants in the photo.
I remember having a rockery at my childhood home. I think we had lavender growing in pockets of soil in it. It thrived in hot summers when the sun was baking hot.
For the first time on my blog I had someone leave a rude comment on one of my posts today! They actually told me to ‘f’ off. First I was astonished that I had offended someone so much that they felt this way. Then I wondered how an innocuous and supportive post could elicit that reaction? Is it because I’m a woman and I’m daring to express an opinion? But the person referred to me as male. And as I just use my surname why would they know my gender?
Eventually I logged it as Spam and didn’t actually report the blogger. I just wanted the comment gone. Perhaps I should have done. If I’m being trolled how many others are being too? I will see if it happens again. I spent years moderating websites so it didn’t upset me. It’s just childish. And unusual for Jetpack /WordPress. X
My teachers nails as she dragged them down the blackboard always got our attention!
Screech…
Scratch…
Searing the air
To my ears!
Watch out
Teachers about!
Find your place
In your book
Get your work done?
Or detention!
100 lines
“I will listen to teacher”
Or screeeee ch!
Mallaband-Brown