Twirl and Whirl Thursday

Cottage Life

I subscribe to Mike Dooleys "Notes from the Universe" and this is what I found in my email. It made me smile.

How about, rhondi, next time you go to work, the mall, or a labyrinth, you glide, slide, and twirl a bit? Wink, smile, and wave? Dip, bend, and high-five? Strut, saunter, and beam?

Just a bit?

Teeny, tiny?
The Universe

Now I don't propose to master the fancy footwork of Mr. Bojangles, but I can certainly saunter a little.

 

Before and After

I took this dahlia picture in the rain a couple days ago. I like the raindrops on the petals. I wanted to see how far I could Artsy it up.

Before

After

Next I'll add a little canvas ... I've just posted a little piece of the picture so that you can see the texture that shows up when printed at a larger size. I'm having way too much fun. :-)

Healthy Choices

True confession time. I worked with son Karl today who just happened to mention that his sister had reported on facebook that she had made a marion berry pie and was enjoying a piece of it for breakfast... Okay. Unfortunately he had just mentioned this as we were pulling up to the "Dutch Brothers" espresso window. Ordinarily I would just say whole milk latte' please. This time I heard my self screetching across the work van "AND A CHOCOLATE MUFFIN TOP!!!!!" So much for gluten free. I'm so ashamed. It came from somewhere deep within. I was a woman possessed. If it's any consolidation, I shared it with karl. Um... actually I only gave him a dinky piece. And to make matters worse it did NOT satisfy the marion berry shaped vacuum in my heart.  Sigh...

Hmmm... Pause for Thought

I love this poem...

Warning - When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple

By Jenny Joseph

 

 

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired

and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick the flowers in other people's gardens

and learn to spit.

 

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

and eat three pounds of sausages at a go

or only bread and pickles for a week

and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

 

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

and pay our rent and not swear in the street

and set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

 

 

Until Next Time...