somepinkflowers

i don't get it

My friend P. called me early Saturday morning.

"I'm bored!" she explained. "I don't have anything to do..."

"What?" I asked incredulously for I have truly never been bored a day in my life.

"What?" I asked again.
Clearly I had misunderstood her. "What?"

I don't mean to get all braggity~brag~brag or anything but there is so much to do around here I never have enough time to do 1/5 of what I want to do.

How could a person run out of things to do?
We live 10 minutes from the beach, 45 minutes from the river, 1 hour from Daytona.

We live in ST. AUGUSTINE, Florida, people!
Folks come from all around the world to do things HERE.

I don't get it.

"Have you been to The Tractor Supply to try on the new cowgirl boots?" I ask, trying to be helpful.

I do this myself several times a year and find it quite soothing. Plus, a girl can never have too many pairs of cowgirl boots.

"What?" P. asked.
Clearly she thinks she has misunderstood me. "What?"

"Ok," I said. "Get your camera ready and I will pick you up."

"Where are we going?" P. asked excitedly. You would have thought I had told her to pack her passport.

"What should I wear? Will we be gone all day?"

"Naw! " I explained. "We are driving over to the Farmer's Market to photograph the fruit."

"I could do it all day long. You'll love it! Wait and see!"

 

thanksgiving on pine street

haiku my heart and spadoman is home!

welcome, spadoman!
warm Round Circle of healing,
prayers flutter on in...

~~~for more haiku my heart--
and today honors one of our own--
please do pop in here~~~

tourist tuesday and a stroll in essaouira, morocco

You know I would take you everywhere I go if only I could.

Especially I would take you to the seaside towns.

Sights are strange yet oddly reminiscent
as there are universal truths found in every seaside town I have ever visited.

Bikes gently resting against a tree or wall...

A gallery that lures you in to shop...

A lush and secret garden...

A sign impossible to read...

A sign that look rather familiar...

Every where people are selling fabric and spices as the ocean is the Commerce Highway International.

Lovely things desired.

The ubiqitous bike posed at the ready;
the ever-present kitten longing to pounce.

Colors that smooth & sooth the heart.

I travel to remind myself I am only one small being in the big wide world.

I travel to learn appreciation of differences.

I try to remember to look up.

Palm trees vary only slightly around the world.
They all speak the same language of tropical swaying.
Each dreams of a moonlit night.

People at work are the same.
Getting things done whilst I meander about taking their photo.

I wonder what they think when they see me?

""Here comes another crazy American girl who is snap~happy with her camera.""

In almost every seaside town I find a bar that plays his music.

In Venice, Barcelona, Miami there he is...

A certain rhythmic beat rides the ocean waves to shore and will not be stopped.

Pacific, Atlantic, Mediterranean, Adriatic.
Not one sea seems to wear Marley*immunity.

Maybe the music floats in on seaweed.
I have no idea.

Sights are strange yet oddly reminiscent
as there are universal truths found in every seaside town I have ever visited.

Lazy bikes leaning, a reggae beat waffling up and out of side alley and always, always a gull standing guard nearby.

While most travel stirs me up, a seaside towns whispers home.

haiku my heart on 11/11/11

full*moon tides pull strong,
magic in matching numbers.
{{ shelter your wishes }}

 

~~~for more haiku my heart
please do pop in here~~~

i will grab the little blue bucket...

Quick, quick! Go grab your yellow hoodie!
We are off to the beach...

I have promised an angel wing to this one so do come with me to look.

I will grab the little blue bucket just in case our luck holds true.

Do be careful where you walk.
You best look down Now
to see the closest thing I will see to snow this year.

Sugary beach sand which, when dry, goes crunch crunch under our feet...

Yes.
Do be careful where you walk.
Ghost crabs help keep the beach neat~o and tidy from organic debris of the dead animal kind.

Ghost crabs and my sea gull friends help keep our beach in order.

Can you see the Proud Ladies sitting on the dune?
Some have been holding court right there for my entire life.

Thank goodness!

Even though I do hold some influence with the sea
today there are no angel wings.

Aren't we glad there is always Another Day.

Today we will take home some lovely beach sand
~~a wee bit~~
for One of My Little Art Projects.

Breath deep the salty air!
Let the salty air flow gently but with purpose into your nose
to keep your head clear & your body healthy.
Let the salty air flow smoothly into your heart
so you will come back here
with me.

Now give a wave to the sea. Go ahead. Wave.

Always, always give a wave to the sea
as she will always, always give a wave back to you.

 

dia de los muertos, dia de bloglandia

Today on Dia de los Muertos I honor my father
who taught me many things.

How to make a fort of newly raked leaves & then jump in it.
How to ride a red two~wheeler on the hill of our driveway without falling.
How to catch a softball in a well~worn leather glove.
How to root for the Home Team and eat popcorn at the same time..

How to make a kite from an old newspaper with rags for a tail.
How to beware of over~head wires.
How to have patience when the wind would not come.
How to take turns with my sweet sister.

How to catch a blue~gill bream, to clean it
and to fry it up in a pan.

{{"Get it off, daddy!" my mother said I shouted
and then she wrote this
on the back of the documenting b&w photo
of My First Fish Caught Ever in the History of the World.}}

My daddy taught me how to rise early in the day--
whilst others were still sleeping--
to pick up the best shells along the beach,
a skill I find useful to this very day.

My daddy taught me how to stand outside under the trees--
on a little stool because I was so young--
to open oysters at a ricketty wooden table.
How to slide the salty blobs onto a saltine cracker
and eat them
on
down
even when my mom & sister would not.

How to spend vacations with family
even thought they might live 4 states away
and we would have to Make Time to travel there  to visit.

How to visit old people in the hospital
when I really only wanted to play outside in the Florida sun.

{{ At the time I had no idea he was training me
to care for him many years later, to care for my dear mom now.}}

Today on Dia de los Muertos I honor my father
who ate my first hard biscuits made from scratch
over and over again until I finally got it right
and he never once complained.

Then he turned around and did the same
with my powdery brownies too dry to swallow.

The scrambled eggs were yet another story...

Today on Dia de los Muertos I honor my father, Max,
with love and memories both overflowing.

I try to remember everything about my dad
but really it takes no effort at all.
None. What so ever.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{{ This posting is part of the Dia de Los Muertos celebration organized by rebecca at recuerda mi corazon and Stephanie at Mango Studio for Dia de Bloglandia. Follow the links for more of the Art of Remembering where we honor those we love who are no longer here. Hey, daddy! }}