I am making cranberry orange muffins and banana bread today. I plan on getting up early and since it’s already almost three am that may take some doing….but I am determined! I have dried cranberries which I love and am trying the recipe without milk which I never have.
Maybe I should just get up now….nah, too easy. Have a great day, y’all. ; )
What are parents teaching their children? These are kids, doing great things. We should all be proud. I wonder who is responsible for publicly causing all this hate mongering…..any ideas?
Legends of spring speak of greenery and ferns
A forest awakened by cool morning dew
Warmed by the brighter sun without dark clouds
The soft rain has taken a break
It’s time for the blooms of new flowers
Nests of baby birds hatching
Worms burrowing under damp soil
Bees feasting on the new centers of petals
Elves, fairies, and sprites, all peeking
Out from their winter shelters
It’s time to be busy again
Spring is here.
Scottish_legend@hotmail.com
I had to do it, after seeing his attempt at moving out of bed. Being bedridden with ME/CFS since January 2015, this young man at https://jamisonwrites.com needs our support. So, the prestigious😳but entirely sincere badge is given to Jamison for his perseverance, determination, mental strength and courage. Congrats, J!
https://rugby843.blog/proud-of-myself-badge/
School dance, just the first
Of many they hope
The thrill of dressing
Wanting to please that special someone.
He wore thicker heels to appear taller
While she shed hers to appear smaller.
Funny how this age causes so much
Discrepancy in gender height.
The cookies and punch await
Thirsty, sweaty dancers
After trying their best
At the latest rock and roll.
Time for another presentation of the “Proud of Myself” badge. Today’s recipient is Jennifer at https://twoboobsonefight.wordpress.com/. She has battled cancer and won. She writes very honestly and I’m proud of her for her endurance, strength, perseverance, and bravery. So here you go, J! Wear it with pride!
https://rugby843.blog/proud-of- myself-badge/
Most of us have good days and bad days. That’s an ordinary way to describe it, isn’t it? Having your car break down on a busy highway when you just invested $500 in it the week before, that seems to qualify. Having lost a bet on your favorite sports team, getting bruised while playing softball, having the wind destroy your just raked leaves on the lawn, wifi out for an hour, all these might seem like you are having a bad day.
I would call these unfortunate nuisances. A really bad day for someone who has depression, serious, mind blowing depression, doesn’t even compare to a bad day. Sometimes it is something that you cannot conquer. Especially by yourself. A friend describes it in horrifying pictures and extremely sad words. All the while I have to realize there is nothing I can do to help.
A very good day would be when researchers “conquer” with a cure for this disease.
“Put your arm around me, you twit! This is supposed to be a romantic scene, and you’re just standing there like your last knave just died! I said, put your arm around me, at least try to appear interested!”
Faking attempt at affection, the actor half heartedly drooped his arm over her shoulder. She was such a bitch and he only had two more nights of this hell with her. Then he could pursue his dream, playing Hamlet off Broadway. The only reason he had that opportunity was putting up with this role for a few weeks. “When I act as Hamlet, people will see me for my true acting ability.” He nudged the actress, almost pushing her into the rail.
“Watch it, you oaf, two more nights and I’ll be done with you, if you live that long.” She had put up with his overacting, forgetting lines and general awkwardness for six weeks, only two days to go. Surely her experience and reputation could last a while longer. She purposely stepped on his foot, hard. He uttered a protest.
Projecting her voice to the audience, she smiled and spoke with her best English accent, “My lord, surely you jest?”
https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/03/19/sunday-photo-fiction-march-19th-2017/
After luck, I almost feel goaded
With such a prompt that’s so loaded.
Controversy? In the US today?
Do I really need to say?
That’s all there is day and night
With our new leader’s sight
Tweeting such disgusting remarks
You’d think it’s his idea of a lark!
But beware, he speaks HIS truth
Which betrays him as aloof
As to matters of the common man
Whose troubles he will expand
If he truly has his way….
Oh yes, it’s definitely controversy.
I didn’t want this day to begin. -All Russians Love Birch Trees by Olga Grjasnowa
Ugh, what time IS it? Yes, too early, pulling the pillow over his head. I must have left the bar, but don’t remember. I didn’t even get her phone number. Maybe it was all a dream? Tightening the edges of the pillow to shut out the morning light, his mind went over last evening’s events.
The Blooming Rose, it was named, the bar he’d heard about from water cooler talk at the office. The guys mentioned how you could find a lot of interesting people there. Jack’s curiosity was piqued. How could this place be any different than hundreds of other bars in the city? Of course he had to check it out. Being single, under thirty, and anxious to see anything new and exciting, he had nothing to lose.
After telling his secretary he’d be in late the next day, he took a cab to the Blooming Rose. When he arrived, it was a lot different than he imagined. The outside was in need of paint and repair, and the surrounding businesses were similar. He hesitated and turned to find the cab had already left, so decided to enter the establishment.
Once through the door, he was surprised to see a lively crowd, subdued lighting, and an inviting atmosphere. He felt instantly comfortable and sat himself down at the bar. Jack had about three drinks, he couldn’t remember exactly, when he was approached by a raven haired woman. Her presence seemed to mesmerize Jack, although it could also have been the affect of alcohol on an empty stomach. He really didn’t care, this woman was beautiful and seemed interested. Women were hard to please he’d found. Open the door for them and they seemed insulted, offer to pay for dinner and they think you expect more than a kiss goodnight. Listening to them speak on end about their experiences and they think you’re a dolt. Never has it been so difficult to just have a drink and some fun.
The woman was dressed all in red. A not too low cut dress that fit her shapely figure well. Red heels and red lipstick perfectly applied, completed the look. And what a look. Jack felt like he was dreaming. She introduced herself and they had a few more drinks together.
By this time Jack was in no shape to hope anything would happen, or be clear enough in his intentions to ask to see her again. He called for the cab to pick him up. That’s the last thing he remembered. The rest of the night was a blur. She must have come and stayed a while. The only evidence was the lipstick on his sheets. So she must have been here. Why didn’t I get her number? I don’t even know her last name! Looking at the clock again he decided to get his head under a cool shower.
The Bag Lady 
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