Indulgence for Sunday Scribblings

Sunday Scribblings offers the prompt, indulgence.

Indulgence.

How long does it take a cat to die?

Today a stranger's cat awaited its end on my patio concrete which the sun was heating to a sizzle. He was unable to move more than an inch at a time on a day with a forecast temp of 90. I was torn between wanting to snuff him and to save him.

Where did he come from? Indulgent owners?

Those indulgent do-gooders who profess to love cats by decorating their city houses and neighboring yards with them? Those town dwellers who profess a love for cats but decline to care for them? Those indulgent apartment people who acquire a kitten for a few minutes of silly pleasure before they turn it loose to fend for itself?

Free-range cats work on farms where rodents and mice roam but to have a free-range cat in town smacks of the worst kind of irresponsible indulgence.

This might be the first of my seven-hundred posts which will be image naked for obvious reasons. Tomorrow, images will resume.

~~~♠~~~♠~~~

Qualitative Experiment

Sunday Scribblings #101 -
The prompt this week is: "The Experiment" or "Experimental."

My response:




analysis
begins
calculated
data gathered
excel'd
footnotes listed
guidelines
hidden
input varietal
jiggered
kneaded
logic lost
missing cells
numbers chewed
opinion spat
political smiles
qualitative
reports
spun in a false web
truth choked
unstated
views exposed
weird wins
x-ray's down
yawns abound
zipped files deleted

poetry watercolor

I Can't Not Rant

It's a time of learning.

The smaller-government folks are making laws against civilians and ramping up protection for theirs and their ilk while sowing dragons' teeth and studying athletes' steroidal addiction.

Our state, alone, has the dubious honor of an airport staller (his tapping was heard round the world), a man (who has been likened to a fern) of dubious comport whose computer dials random phones at dusk, one who yearns to make it illegal to coerce a woman into having an abortion, and another electee who'd like to see milk named our state drink. Still another advocates a yellow sticker on auto license plates of those who DUI'd. Not the leading sinners, of course, but the regular drunks. There are those who've decided to fill in part of the small lake in order to make a scenic road wider and speed-friendly.

Government is like crabgrass pushing its way through any tiny crack. Taxes grow, expenses are out the door, the deficit is out of sight and the only smaller things I see are my social security check, dividends and freedom.

I heard the leader of this particular brand announce, in his inimitable fashion, that we should be wary of letting 'the others' gain the White House because THEY would threaten our peace and prosperity. I had massive wtf eye jerk there.

It's a time of learning, all right, but those in power must be using brain stiffeners.

Writing at Sunday Scribblings

Reading, writing, listening and art are so closely related it's hard for me to delineate where one starts and another leaves off. Oftentimes, I stop one process to begin another.

It surprises me to write something and, before the day is out, find that whatever 'original' thought or word I wrote turns up in a similar context by another writer. Or colors I choose for fractals or watercolors are those I see during the day.

Today, by accident and good fortune, I discovered the writings of Wendy Videlock. After reading as much of her internet poetry as I could find, I listened to several podcasts which included her work. In fact, I listened to one particular poem non-stop for an hour. Her style is different than any I've heard recently.

By then, my mind was reeling and the need to write overwhelmed me but nothing I wrote is earthshaking or even mediocre. But I haven't given up. I'll read, listen, write and paint/design again. Each action is inseparable as well as a learning process.

Thank you for sharing the Sunday Scribblings!

Transition

Summer's last gasp, although there'll be whimpers for another few weeks, was filled with fun and followed by exhaustion.

Monday, the four-year-old exhibited his first bend-over, fall-in dive from the top step of the pool into the depths.

He gathered fallen pears with the first blush of pink for slicing. We invented unusual s'mores - a slim slice of pear atop an Anna's Thin ginger cookie.

Our first paper airplane sailed onto the house roof. He suggested waiting for the breeze to blow it down but I tugged the ladder from the garage and achieved a wide-eyed rescue.

Tuesday, I noticed new leg bruises from ladder rungs and realized the paper airplane wasn't folded correctly. Hadn't I learned anything in school?

Wednesday, I admitted it's time to let go of my favorite season and to get on with autumn's chores. Let's see now, where did I put the comforters and socks?

Fractal created in Fractal Explorer, modified in IrfanView.

Abstract2 is published in the current edition of Blood Lotus. Three digital photos carry Editor's Pick brands on Better Photo.

Coeur d'Alene Loses Service

Coeur d'Alene faced another loss this month. Its only full-service gas station closed.

Many people with a wide assortment of impairments cannot perform those seemingly simple duties offered by a full-service gas station attendant.

Each withdrawal of such a service takes a new toll on people who are already challenged by daily living.

I wonder if there is a gas station in town that could offer full service on one day (or more) each week by hiring an intern or a church teen. Or maybe a car wash that could offer a full-service gas pump.

Strangely, a driver can remain in his car to gather dry cleaning, truck through a car wash, pick up bread and a cup of soup, bank, pick up prescriptions and attend church sermons, but must get out of his car to perform basic car requirements. Strange indeed!

If you've not yet walked in these shoes, congratulations! When it happens to you, may there be more options than there are now.

Rainbows and Reunions

Many of my high school/college classmates meet for an informal monthly potluck lunch. Yesterday was the May day meet and several showed up for the first time.

The obvious advantage of growing up in a once-small town is that you often hear, for the first time, stories of your family being told by others. Some of our group have passed on but shared memories create laughter and camaraderie among those who might not have been close in earlier years. We fret about those who face health concerns and rejoice that our group is still countable in double digits.

Last night I met online with a resurrected poetry workshop that fell through the cracks several years ago and was pleased to be re-grouped!

E-mail brought messages from distant friends and a trip to the hardware store brought me face-to-face with a person I'd not seen in years.

May, also a-bloom with family birthdays, has been a month of reunions for which I am grateful!

Digital Photo by Sue, framed in Digital Image Suite.

Near Year of Tumblewords Blog and North of Summer, Poetry are available at Lulu Publishing.