Beyond the cold hard ground, far beyond the trees, the sun sets brilliantly into the west.
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Morning mediation…
Sitting
Legs crossed
Mindful
Present
Winter sun floods the room
It warms me
Evening illumination…
The sun drops out of the sky
Colors morph
Pink, purple, red,
Fireball yellow
Then gone
Just til tomorrow
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The family that shades together, stays together.
(Ugh! Sorry. I couldn’t resist.)
Reflection. Keeping it light.
And yes, I am not happy to be having my picture taken.
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I’m not one to be doing a daily post – daily – but this one’s different. I’ve been wanting to write to Stan Wischnowski, the Executive Editor of the Philadelphia Inquirer, but who am I and would he even listen? So… to get it off my chest, I dedicate this post to Mr. Wischnowski.
Dear Sir,
I am a huge fan of Lisa Scottoline, published author and Philadelphia Inquirer Sunday columnist. But here’s my gripe. I don’t know what Ms. Scottoline is getting for her column, Chick Wit, which is sometimes funny, sometimes hysterical, and sometimes, well, ok, but I think I could do this. I think I could write the same material for half the price and twice a week at that! I mean, I have pets I could write volumes about, and a 90 year old mom that would keep readers in stitches for days on end. Not to rival Ms. Scottoline, but I’ve also got the two ex-husband senario going for me, and a list of ex-boyfriends whose stories I could weave into gut-busters. So what’s the deal? Does a person have to be famous to, ah, get famous? Does a person have to have “experience” in order to get experience? Kind of a catch 22 if you ask me.
Not to be redundant, but I love Lisa Scottoline. Her novel, Look Again, kept me on the edge of my seat and begging for more. I even went to one of her book signings at Barnes and Noble in Cherry Hill, NJ and waited in line to get a picture of myself, with, yes, a famous author. I have no shame when it comes to well-knowns, probably because I AM NOT ONE! The line was ridiculous, but I got a book, a signature, and a photo of my husband, Lisa, myself, and Lisa’s now slightly famous daughter, Francesca, who sometimes writes the Inquirer column for her mom. I guess celebrities get too busy sometimes. I would never be too busy! I promise!
In closing I’d like to say, I have nothing against Ms. Scottoline or her beautiful and talented daughter. I continue to read the column. Her books are still on my shelf, and I will never stop doing The Inquirer’s Sudoku daily while nibbling on my toast. But, if Lisa ever gets busy to the point of “I can’t do this anymore”, give me a holler. My dog, my mom, my exes, and my sense of humor are waiting. Just sayin’.
Respectfully – to one and all mentioned in this communication,
Gemma
Here I am, a day away from a new Word Press Challenge and I still haven’t posted last week’s entry. Well, I’m nothing if I’m not a procrastinator, but I can’t chalk it up to that this time. This one had me stumped. I don’t know if it was worth the wait, but I’ll be darned if I’m going to let a week go by and not at least attempt to put picture to word.
This is a – ah – lamp at the new Revel Hotel and Casino in Atlantic City where my husband is currently working. (Credit goes to him for the funky photo. I just do the posting.)
I know those places have money to burn, but this thing struck me as a rather unusual bit of illumination. Here I am, struggling to pay the electric bill and well…Must be nice… Cha-ching $$$
CONTRAST…I can’t believe it’s March already. But there it was. The first week of the month and the daffodils were already showing their sunny faces. The days have been warm and cold and warm and cold and, well, need I go on. CA-RAY-ZEE!! But I’ll take it. It’s been the strangest winter I’ve seen in a long time. Things are changing, weather-wise, no? But there’s nothing that perks the spirit, at least for me, like the first signs of spring. The second I spotted these beauties, I had to grab my camera. Just in case we have a snow storm in the next few days. The ground, still hard and holding that look of winter, seemed in stark contrast to the bright green of the leaves and the brilliant yellow of the flowers. Let it snow! I have seen the first signs of spring and that will hold me over, just in case…
DISTORTED?
DiStOrTeD? Contorted? You decide. All I know is that this just can’t be comfortable.
She can sleep in a car
Or swinging from a star.
She can sleep in a bed
Or standing on her head,
In the woods, or a park
In the light, or the dark
She can sleep in a chair
She can sleep anywhere!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DR. SEUSS
🙂
INDULGE
I’ll have to admit I was a little stumped with this week’s challenge. Indulge. What does that mean to me? Is it chocolate cream pie and cafe mocha, 4 slices of pizza and a root beer float, mint chocolate chip ice cream and then more mint chocolate chip ice cream? No that’s not indulgence. That’s a normal day. So I did what I tell my first grader’s to do. I looked it up in the dictionary. Here’s the definition I’m going with: verb: to yield to a wish or desire: allow oneself to follow one’s will.
Man, Oh Man, OH MAN! Thank you, Word Press!
This girl went out and got herself a camera! Talk about indulging! Not having two nickels to rub together, with bills haunting me from all angles, staring down two mortgages, and retirement ( and fixed income) just around the corner, my husband and I walked into a camera shop and said, “We’ll take that one.” Like it was a puppy at the pound.
I’ve been wanting a real honest-to-goodness camera for 35 years! Now, I went and did it. I’ve been clicking on blog posts left and right and each one is better than the last. Writing, photography, jewelry. You name it. I see people following their dreams and doing things I only talk about doing, and now it’s time for me to indulge.
Thanks to all that have inspired me. I’m off to point and shoot!
Word Press is handing down the challenge. They will suggest a topic once a week. The challenge is to post a blog and a picture with an interpretation of that topic. This week’s topic is DOWN. The key word, as I’m understanding it is ‘interpretation’ so here it goes…
If you’re from Jersey, specifically, outside of Newark where I was born, the word DOWN meant one thing: Down the shore. When I was a kid growing up, getting to the shore was tantamount to getting to the moon. Fuhgetaboutit!
That was 50 years ago.
I’m making up for it now. I went and got me a place down the shore. I’m livin’ in the space age, baby and shooting for the moon. Now I’m down the shore every chance I get and lovin’ it.
Live the dream.