And the Nicholas Brothers 🕺🏾🕺🏾💕
3TC +
Why so myopic? You can clearly see with those big blue fish eyes that I think of you with bliss. Now pucker up those beautiful maven lips and give me a kiss! Why cavil at my request? Is it such a task to ask for a little smooch?
***
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2022/02/06/rdp-sunday-myopic/#like-12549
http://cyranny.com/2022/02/06/task-word-of-the-day-challenge/
The Sunday Whirl
Vibrating shots cut through the rain with no hesitation, nailing the body to the shed doorway. “No miss here, Joe“ as they shoved aside the dog from his place of guard. Smells pungent as they entered the cabin and brushed aside the curtain covering the back room door. The facts of this meth lab became clear as they smelled before seeing, a leak from a container of ammonia.
***
“Sweet Child O Mine”
Axl Rose born on February 6, 1962, sings Guns N’ Roses”Sweet Child o’ Mine” – a song by American rock band Guns N’ Roses. It appeared on their debut album Appetite for Destruction. The song was released in June 1988 as the album’s third single, and topped the Billboard Hot 100 chart, becoming the band’s only number 1 US single.
MLMM Saturday Mix
He wanted more
So joined the corps
Just an ordinary Joe
Wanted to fight the foe
Bravery felt but in mind was faux
Battlefields shook him to his core.
Joe fought the fight, did his best
Survived with medals on his chest.
***
Sammiscribbles Weekend Writing Prompt
I didn’t mean to use
Words that might confuse
Actually I refuse
To bow down to your level.
I’ll try to keep it simple
Hide my flummoxed dimple
Wouldn’t want your brain to crumple
With facts you choose to bevel.
Get vaccinated!
***
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2022/02/05/weekend-writing-prompt-247-flummox/
“All of Me”
All of Me – Louis Armstrong
Yes, all of me, why not take all of me baby
Yes, can’t you see? I’m no good without you
Take my arms, I’ll never use them
Take my lips, I want to lose them
Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry
How can I go on dear without you?
You took the part that once was my heart
Why not take all of me
All of me, now please take all of me
Can’t you see, I’m no good without you
Take my lips, I’d rather lose them
Take these arms, I’ll never never never ever use them
Your goodbye, left me with eyes that cry
How can I, go on dear without you
You took that part, what once was my heart
So why not take all of me
Baby please take all of me
The Cremation of Sam McGee
Commenting on a post by G R at http://trefology.com/2022/02/04/revolutions/, I was reminded of this old poem. My dad could recite it and we kids loved it.
***
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ’round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursèd cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ’tain’t being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”; … then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
***
Army Life
The sergeant looked around, surveying his troops, obviously disappointed. “Come on you bunch of poltroon pismires! Stop cuddling your bivy and start running! Move it, move it, move it!”
***
SoCS – Page
I guess we are not turning the page in this pandemic, we’re stuck in this chapter for a while longer. I remember my oldest granddaughter who is starting her residency this spring told me in the beginning of 2020 that the doctors thought eventually everyone will end up getting Covid. I think they were right. Despite all of the advice people still are thinking in the dark ages. We don’t seem to learn from our mistakes.
https://lindaghill.com/2022/02/04/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-5-2022/
The Bag Lady 
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