And Snow

Paltry by Canadian standards but enough to call off school. The mountain roads the school busses travel are too dangerous when icy to risk.

My call/email today is about the lack of support for Ukraine.

 

Wild Times at the Palma Ceia

                                                                         

The Palma Ceia Theater in South Tampa led something of a double life. Showing artsy and foreign films on weeknights, on Saturday mornings she let her hair down and catered to the youth of the neighborhood.

 Preteens swarmed the venue, arriving on bicycles or decanted from station wagons by parents happy for a peaceful weekend morning. A seething, noisy line formed down the side of the theater as we waited for the doors to open. A relatively shy child myself, at first, I avoided being a part of this, but by the time I was in sixth or seventh grade, it was obvious that, without the Palma Ceia, my Saturday mornings would be lonely indeed.

So, I accompanied my friends, paid down my dime, bought my popcorn, candy, and soft drink, and picked my way over the sticky floors to a seat (first checking to make sure there was no bubble gum adhering.)

It was a time of revelry for the young audience--two, maybe three cartoons, followed by an installment of a serial (Flash Gordon was my favorite, with the evil Emperor Ming, the feisty Dale Arden, and the spaceships that traveled through the depths of the galaxy, emitting sparks that fell downwards.) The main feature was usually a Western or maybe something with pirates.

Popcorn flew through the air and happy shouts often drowned out the soundtrack.  By the time the feature was over, an intrepid usher might have expelled the worst of the disruptive element. 

The rest of us emerged slowly, sated with popcorn and candy and blinking in the light of a Saturday afternoon, full of further possibilities.

                                                                

Keeping On

                                                                                                                                                        

Write those emails; make those calls.

There are so very many things to be addressed but I try to limit myself. A friend told me she had trouble with calling as she got so angry she sputtered and fell over her words. So would I if I didn't have a prepared script to follow (it works for emails too.)

This was yesterday's: 

I am concerned as to why DOGE is acquiring sensitive personal information from the IRS. I am concerned that Trump/Musk's wrecking ball approach to cutting costs is doing immeasurable harm, at home and abroad. I am concerned that your party seems to be turning governing over to a gang of irresponsible actors, while conciliating Putin and offending our longtime allies. And I'd like to know if you have received financial support from Musk.

I am touched by those of you who said you read my blog daily. I shall endeavor to persevere.

As I am with the watercolors. The above is painted from a photo I took some years ago at a threshing--an event carried on as a tradition by a local family. Keeping on.

                                               

                                                                        

Strange Day

                                                                                

 First my Facebook account was suspended. The reason given had to do with an Instagram account--that I don't believe is mine. I signed up for IG years ago but haven't used it since.

I'm suspecting a hack and will stay off FB till things become clearer. While I'll miss being in touch with friends, I think it will be a good thing to break the tie, at least for a while. 

Then our power went off for hours. No biggie--I sketched and listened to Stephen Fry reading P.G. Wodehouse. It was a pleasant way to spend a cold, drizzly day.

I haven't yet decided if I'll continue this blog on a daily basis. It began as a way to reach readers and has become, really, a sort of online journal. Most of the engagement has come from FB with a handful of folks who read the blog online rather than FB.

 We'll see

Meta at Work

 My Facebook account has been suspended for unknown reasons. I will continue to post on this blog. 

What a world!

1975

                                                                        

Our late neighbor Clifford Freeman, Ethan and his cousin Andrew, all on the good mule Nell.

Josie Update

There was a Valentine's Day dance at school just for kindergarten, first, and second grades. It was awesome! I wore my new dress and danced with my friends. (We did NO schoolwork all day!)

 

Meema picked me up and we went and got ice cream again because Cynthia at the ice cream place wanted to see my dress. I had told her about it when we got ice cream on Monday and she Really wanted to see it. 

Then when we got home, there was a Valentine card with a dragon on it for me and a bag of hearts made our of different colored stones--like a dragon's hoard. My favorite is the blue one that might be lapis lazuli. I made all sorts of shapes with them.

                                          

 These are pictures I painted on Monday. I remembered to leave a little bit of white on the apple like Meema told me a long time ago. Then I decided to paint a picture of one of the orchids on the table.                                                         

First I did the little brown pot, then the leaves and flowers, and then the table and the window and the outside. Meema said she was really proud of me because drawing what you see is harder than drawing an idea. I like my picture. You can see the yellow bush that is outside and a tree. 

                                            

                                                          

                                                   

Happy Valentine's Day!

                                                                       

And I'm Back

                                                                            

A new charging cord and my laptop is back in business! Boy, what an improvement to use a full size keyboard Would that everything else I'm worried about could be so easily and quickly remedied!

I'm concerned that the GOP is facilitating a white supremacy movement by allowing the F(elon)OTUS to allow Musk to do pretty much whatever he wants--snap up lucrative government contracts, bring his kid to work in the Oval Office, enable importing other white supremacist South Africans, and generally run amok in the name of government efficiency.

                                     

Who's in charge here?

And my congress critters are probably in Musk's pocket. Making those calls is still important, but I have to say that reading the weasel-worded replies is nauseating.

But I endeavor to persevere.

This Is Just to Say

 I'm having computer problems and using my phone to post. Which is a drag.   If you don't hear from me for a few days, that's what's up.

Where Are We Going?

     on

Our country is heading into the unknown as a mad president raves about sporks and plastic straws while choosing the worst and wackiest for his government.

  Meanwhile the richest man on earth has free rein in that government, molding it to his advantage, getting rid of programs that hinder any of his multipleI interprises.

And the GOP aids and abets.

 

 

Orchids in the Sun

 

Bricolage (See also Gallimaufry)

                                                                          

BRICOLAGE

1. (In art or literature) Construction or creation from a diverse range of available things.

2. Something constructed or created from a diverse range of available things.

This word popped up on Word Daily and I realized it was the perfect description of this blog.

Flowers, sunrises, food, dogs and cats and sometimes snakes, politics, watercolors, books . . .

                                                                                    

Of course, Josie. And whatever else my magpie mind seizes on.

Meanwhile on Word a Day, this word could describe same of my posts:

archaeolatry

PRONUNCIATION:

(ar-kee-AH-luh-tree) 

MEANING:

noun: Excessive reverence for the past: an earlier time, old customs, antiquity, etc.

                                                             

ETYM