Papyrophobia

Many sticker stamps seem to have papyrophobia.....like this one that arrived in the mail today...

Lick 'n' stick stamps seem to be superior in their adhering capabilities.

SUPER HERO BANANAS

So let me get this straight.......tasting the banana empowers me to do good?

Labels Are For Reading, RIGHT?

So...it's FUEL......and a you're saying it MAY catch fire? 

Make a Wish!

A wishbone, or as some call it in the British Isles, "a merrythought" is a bone overlying the breastbone of fowl, typically the chicken and the turkey.  In some places it is customary to remove this bone intact when carving the bird.  It is then well-dried until it is brittle.

The wishbone is then given to two people, oftentimes children, who face each other while each pulling one end until it breaks, each one making a wish while doing so. The person who  ends up with the longest piece of the wishbone will supposedly have their wish come true. If the wishbone breaks evenly, it is said that the wishes of both contestants will come true.

How To Care For Your Azalea

This one left me scratching my head........

The First Aid Kit: When Instructions Matter

So.....I'm to do what??

This Makes My Brain Cells Ache

 Can someone please explain this 'logic' to me??

City Sightings

Have you ever seen a stranger and wondered what their story is?   THIS was one such moment for me.....

The t-shirt reads:
Queer
Jewish
Hippie
Shrink

But then I wondered....is he conducting a social experiment?

Have Bike, Will Transport

Today I saw this, and thought....way to go, man!

Firstly, he saved that pumpkin from going to waste.  Secondly, he's using what he's got to transport the pumpkin in a rather unique way.   The old, but faithful, adage holds true.... where there's a will, there's a way!


Good on ya, pumpkin salvage man!  I hope you're enjoying some right tasty pie or soul-warming soup right about now!

Counterfeit Love

Don't give me no counterfeit love for it's not love at all,
it boosts you up and whirls you about, just to let you fall.

It's limited, conditional, always putting itself first,
it's empty, it's dry, never satisfying the thirst.

It looks good, but doesn't feel right as it has no depth.
It poses well, but when tried on, is just a once-used shell.

It yells, it screams, drawing all attention to itself.
It draws out desires and feelings of another just to dump them on a forgotten shelf.

Unstable like Jenga, shifting with the wind,
It points fingers, avoiding blame, leaves you sitting in a puddle of shame.

A Plug for Tropicana Part 2

It's not JUST a bird feeder.......................

How Do I Know My Brother Loves Me?

How do I know my brother loves me?

He intentionally sowed seeds to grow this:

SO??


He doesn't grow stuff he can't eat.

A Plug for Tropicana

One winter's day, a special little 5 year old wanted to make something, so his aunt suggested a bird feeder.  Auntie gave him a juice carton and assisted with scissor use and the application of hot glue.



Auntie cut the opening and gave 5 year old full rein on the design and this was the result:

Once hung outside, the craft was observed intently for visitors.  A couple of squirrels attempted to gain access  to no avail.  No feathered friends were seen venturing near.

Auntie didn't have the heart to remove the  bird trap feeder from the bush that it was hung in without giving it a VERY DECENT chance to attract some winged consumers.

And then, one Summer's day......

THE END

A Dead Mouse is a Cute Mouse

I am not a fan of mice.

You do not have to ask me twice.

I do not like them in a cage, 
I do not like them on a page.

They are too quick, crawling in tight spaces,

leaving a trail of chewed up laces.

I do not like them in my house,

I do not like even just one mouse.

I do not like them on the wall,

I do not like them in the shower stall.

They eat my food and leave their droppings,

asking for a trap full of whoppings.

Isn't it cute??

The Storm of Night

A creak, a sound,

     coughing ripples through the crack.

A sight, a mound,

     dust quietly collects, it has a knack.

Stark-faced, lines of anguish and regret run parallel in the looking glass,

     discounted day pleasures have left their mark on this resolute lass.

At the foot of the bed lie the war-torn clothes,

       the nightmare blasts, my heart implodes.

Spattered with grief, sulfuric scent,

     the life of the rags have well been spent.

Throbbing, the heart-rate climbs.

Riddled with holes, the effort to stand dies.

The will calls out, the plague in the shadows waiting to chastise.

Damp threads, beads of heat and terror adorn my neck,

     the nightmare's jewels displayed, leaving but a wreck.

Moonlit pearls, silken sheet like a sand storm swirls,

     muscles tighten, short strand on the temple curls.

Bedside table loaded, dreams come in droves,

     rushing out of lonesome coves.

Active, exhilarating, gasping in relief,

     reality flies in on a wind-blown leaf.

Another season come and gone

Where has the great Light shone?

The Fitted Sheet

The fitted sheet is a handy thing if your mattress has just the right dimensions and is not stiff and heavy.  The problem with fitted sheets is that they are much like the first automobile.....a great prototype.   I'm sure glad the inventing and developing of cars didn't stop with the Model T Ford!

What puzzles me is, why wasn't the fitted sheet further developed?  Do people enjoy wrestling their mattresses into a fitted sheet?  And how many people actually know how to fold a fitted sheet?

LOVE IS

"Love is the active concern for the life and the growth of that which we love..."  - Erich Fromm


 This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.  1 John 4:10

"Love is grace standing on justice." -  B.J.E. May

My most favourite description of love to date is this:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.  - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8    THAT, my friends, is LOVE in its TRUEST, PUREST form.

A couple of articles about love in case you're interested:

Nature of Love

Blocks to Love

My Wife Is Not The Same Woman That I Married

If Only

Reliving words, moments, images,

my heart quick-stepping through emotional scrimmages.

Reflection.

Efforts to keep it real are sabotaged as romance-birthed clouds of amnesia

hide the jagged edge of reality.

Comfortably locked in warm embrace,

scowling at the abysmal chasm with great distaste.

Battling to keep the mnemonic slides in focus,

wishing for Love to be the locus

Lingering scent, feelings dared, if only you could really have cared.

The heat of truth melts the iceberg of circumstance.

A dark ocean remains.

Vast, deep, cold.

Knocked down by the tidal wave of truth, thrown against the wall of fact, pieces of h O p E scatter wide, will it ever again be intact?

Excitement dwindles, text briefly rekindles.

Heavy blanket of disappointment unfolds,

my once happy heart a mite of courage upholds.

Refusing to cry, letting out only a sigh, who but on Him can I rely?

  

Here I Am

 Here I am, it's all I've got,

     empty hands, a forlorn thought.

Sheets laid out, I play my part, 

although the melody does taste tart,

      harmonic echoes stir the heart.

Just a frame with damaged canvas,

     emotion smears over holes of dampness.

Blank, rough, eraser-torn surface

     etching measures of words and purpose.

 New terms and concepts scribed by sages,

     are chased right back onto their pages.

The memory runs, wanting not to be caught,

     it adamantly refuses to be taught.

Dull, the lead of the once sharp pencil,

     my mind traces life's varied stencil.

The concepts escape my wandering mind

     leaving the text so far behind.

Trembling hands, outstretched to use,

     the rope's been cut, and left a bruise.