Day 345 – Sugar Beer

The glass is scattered on Harrison Street and I almost passed it by; it is a good thing I look up, down and all around before I move on.

Today’s post brought to you by the folks over at Sugar Beer:

The Lost Drink by Andrew Barton Paterson

I had spent the night in the watch-house —
My head was the size of three —
So I went and asked the chemist
To fix up a drink for me;
And he brewed it from various bottles
With soda and plenty of ice,
With something that smelt like lemon,
And something that seemed like spice.
It fell on my parching palate
Like the dew on a sunbaked plain,
And my system began to flourish
Like the grass in the soft spring rain;
It wandered throughout my being,
Suffusing my soul with rest,
And I felt as I “scoffed” that liquid
That life had a new-found zest.I have been on the razzle-dazzle
Full many a time since then
But I never could get the chemist
To brew me that drink again.
He says he’s forgotten the notion —
‘Twas only by chance it came —
He’s tried me with various liquids
But oh! they are not the same.

We have sought, but we sought it vainly,
That one lost drink divine;
We have sampled his various bottles,
But somehow they don’t combine:
Yet I know when I cross the River
And stand on the Golden Shore
I shall meet with an angel chemist
To brew me that drink once more.

Perfect weather, a nice breeze, an hour or so on my hands in my camera’s favorite little town.  And I was left with 6 photos I really liked and since I am THISCLOSE to being finished with my 365, I decided not to limit myself to one photo choice per day.  Sugar Beer was actually not my favorite, but I liked the idea of giving this post the title Sugar Beer, so there you go.  I think Little Beard is the one I like the best, and oh!  You could smell the fragrance all of the way down the street as it wafted along with the breeze.

At the corner of Morton Street, the scent drifts on the breeze, the colors glow and I am in love.

They will shoot at anything, won’t they?

Closed for a long time, this place is starting to fade.
Allis Chalmers tractor, bright – it caught my eye in an instant as it graced a storefront.

Say Ahhh…

Day 314 – Not Forsaken

Not Forsaken

Day 314

Mark 15:16-47

The soldiers led Jesus away into the palace (that is, the Praetorium) and called together the whole company of soldiers.  They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him.  And they began to call out to him, “Hail, king of the Jews!” Again and again they struck him on the head with a staff and spit on him. Falling on their knees, they paid homage to him. And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him.

A certain man from Cyrene, Simon, the father of Alexander and Rufus, was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross.  They brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means “the place of the skull”).  Then they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it. And they crucified him. Dividing up his clothes, they cast lots to see what each would get.

It was nine in the morning when they crucified him. The written notice of the charge against him read: THE KING OF THE JEWS.

They crucified two rebels with him, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, “So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days,  come down from the cross and save yourself!”  In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself! Let this Messiah, this king of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.” Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.

At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.”

Someone ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,” he said.

With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last.

The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died,he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”

Some women were watching from a distance. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joseph,and Salome. In Galilee these women had followed him and cared for his needs. Many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem were also there.

It was Preparation Day (that is, the day before the Sabbath). So as evening approached,  Joseph of Arimathea, a prominent member of the Council, who was himself waiting for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body.  Pilate was surprised to hear that he was already dead. Summoning the centurion, he asked him if Jesus had already died. When he learned from the centurion that it was so, he gave the body to Joseph.  So Joseph bought some linen cloth, took down the body, wrapped it in the linen, and placed it in a tomb cut out of rock. Then he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb.  Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joseph saw where he was laid.

Day 277 – It Has Curve

It Has Curve

Day 277

Beauty Clear and Fair by John Fletcher

Beauty clear and fair,
Where the air
Rather like a perfume dwells;
Where the violet and the rose
Their blue veins and blush disclose,
And come to honour nothing else:

Where to live near
And planted there
Is to live, and still live new;
Where to gain a favour is
More than light, perpetual bliss–
Make me live by serving you!

Dear, again back recall
To this light,
A stranger to himself and all!
Both the wonder and the story
Shall be yours, and eke the glory;
I am your servant, and your thrall.

This is another piece of my pretty glass.  It beckoned me.  Okay, I was desperate for a subject last night and the glass is a decent standby in my book.
And onward to post number three….

Day 262 – Blue Aqua Azure Cobalt Cerulean

Blue Aqua Azure Cobalt Cerulean

Day 262 –

Fragmentary Blue by Robert Frost

Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)–
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.

I wonder what it is about a certain color that gives us so much pleasure?  Blue is the color that does not give me the blues or the mean reds.  This particular shade of blue makes me very happy indeed.
There really isn’t any color I find repulsive, however there are some I wouldn’t want to have to look at for eternity; ocher and light sea-foam are two of them.  I have found that my taste in color has changed through the years as well.  Red used to be “it” for me.  If it was red, it was perfect.  In fact, when I married, the color choices were red and black – red flowers, red cummerbunds and ties, red lights, red everything except my dress and the bridesmaids.  They were in black because red looked like death on two of them.  I am sure that somewhere in my childhood light red, okay, PINK, was the color of choice but I only remember the bright red being ‘the color.’
Then somewhere along the line, blue crept into the picture.  And not just any blue.  Look closely at the shade of blue above. Please dig into the recesses of your memory and tell me where that color would be most familiar.  Think harder.  Think police car and the lights on top of it.  Oh yeah….  That is my FAVORITE shade of blue.  When I drive by someone who is pulled over, I am not wondering why the sap was stopped by the police.  I am looking at the shiny blue lights on top of the car.  And if it is night-time?  I see it coming and going and my eyes are almost giddy with delight.
What color stops you in your tracks?

Day 253 – Because I Like It.

Because I Like It.

Day 253

by Wendy Rose

The way they do
this old woman
no longer cares
what we think
but spits
her black tobacco
any which way
full length
From her bumpy bed.
Finally up
she sprinkles
ash on the snow,
cold buttes
promise nothing
but the walk
of winter.
Centuries of cedar
have bound her
to earth,
huckleberry ropes
lay prickly
on her neck.
Around her
machinery growls,
snarls and ploughs
great patches of her skin.
She crouches
in the north,
her trembling
the source
of dawn.

Light appears
with the shudder
of her slopes,
the movement
of her arm.
Blackberries unravel,
stones dislodge;
it’s not as if
they were not warned.
She was sleeping
but she heard the boot scrape,
the creaking floor,
felt the pull of the blanket
from her shoulder.
With one hand free
she finds her weapons
and raises them high;
clearing the twigs from her throat
she sings, she sings, shaking the sky
like a blanket about her
Loo-wit sings and sings and sings!

People collect things.  They collect thimbles, spoons, rocks, teacups, sports memorabilia, cameras, baseball cards, Snow Babies, Avon bottles, angels, eggs.  They collect any manner of things.  I knew a woman once who collected her own fingernail clippings.  Eek!  Once upon a time as a high school senior, I made the mistake of telling people I liked bells.  Soon I had a bell collection.  I had crystal bells, silver bells, porcelain bells, glass bells, copper bells and even a cow bell.  Some were pretty, but most had the look of an item that had been picked up for a quarter at a garage sale (and I suspect that is how they were procured) and the collection sat, collected dust and grew into a bit of a monster.  Back then, I was a very nice person and so I kept accepting them and stacking them on shelves and tables all over my bedroom.  Thank God, I went to college and moved in with a friend because it gave me an excuse to unload the bells, every single one of them.

I like Mt. St. Helen’s ash glass.  I can tell everyone this with no fear and no worry about a monster growing.  It can not be found at a garage sale, at the local Salvation Army or Goodwill, and it can’t be found at Walmart.  The smallest piece is costs a bit more than most people want to spend on a small bit of glass.   I get one piece a year from my mother who picks it up at Bronner’s (who have adjusted the price for inflation).  The fact that they are a special gift from my mother to me makes them all the more valuable to me.

(The poem is about Loo-wit, an Indian maiden, who was transformed into Mt. St. Helen)

On a side note – my sister needs to hire a photographer in the Dayton, Ohio area to shoot my niece’s wedding.  It is going to be a small wedding and since it is going to be so small, the photos are the one thing that they want to really stand out.  If any of you is in the Dayton area or knows someone in that area, can you please leave contact info in the comment section?  Thank you!

Day 240 – Outside the Lines

Outside the Lines

Day 240

Lines by Martha Collins

Draw a line. Write a line. There.
Stay in line, hold the line, a glance
between the lines is fine but don’t
turn corners, cross, cut in, go over
or out, between two points of no
return’s a line of flight, between
two points of view’s a line of vision.
But a line of thought is rarely
straight, an open line’s no party
line, however fine your point.
A line of fire communicates, but drop
your weapons and drop your line,
consider the shortest distance from x
to y, let x be me, let y be you.
I don’t always like to color inside of the lines, however most of my time is spent safe within the boundaries, nice and comfy.  I like how it looks inside the lines and I like how it looks outside the lines, but I don’t have to travel outside that often, at least not far.  When I go outside those lines, invariably someone is going to get upset because I am disrupting his or her lines.  I have been coloring outside of my lines quite a lot recently, going against the flow, and the coloring book is looking a little messy, but wow!  The colors are amazing!  It is too bad not everyone understands my art…

Day 235 – Coloring One Dream at a Time

Coloring One Dream at a Time

Day 235

To Dream in Color by Richard McLin

 Do you dream in color? Does the pain and sorrow of your day follow you into night, or is that the only time you can escape? Where you close your eyes and see oceans, dolphins, and other beauties, other miracles.

Do you dream in color? Do you recall everything you did during the day, just to replay it in your head? Maybe hoping to get things right this time around. When you close your eyes do you see yourself doing all the chores, all the errands you forgot to accomplish? Perhaps you see yourself as an adventurer or a pirate. Something grander, more romantic than yourself.

Do you dream in color? Do you see your life and watch all the missed opportunities? When you close your eyes do you see the one who got away, or the job you wanted but another person received. Perhaps you see yourself as a king, or queen, a person with the power to control lives.

I dream in color. I see the events of the day, and of the night. I see myself doing all the things that I forgot to do. When I close my eyes I see myself just as I am, for that is the most exciting, and I see myself with my lover, for that is the most romantic dream of all.


I was asking my family, the other day, if each of them dreams in black and white or color.  I was quite surprised to find that not one of them dreams in color on a regular basis.  Each of my dreams is composed with a lot of color, sometimes rich and vivid and dripping with color and at other times it looks like the color I experience in my everyday day – but never black and white.  Last night’s dream had me walking out to the parking lot after work and finding that my car was gone.  I looked everywhere and saw a burgundy van, a tan Honda and a red convertible, but nothing but blank space where my car was supposed to be!  And in my dream, the police officer told me that it was my problem to look for the car because obviously I was not watching it closely enough.  My most frequent dreams involve the seashore and sea shells – the sea varies in color from a deep turquoise to bluish wind tossed waves that crash onto a brown or tan sandy shore.  The seashells always vary in color from peach to pink to lavender to white and they always have an iridescent interior and sometimes I am carrying a multicolored umbrella.

I think that it surprises me the most that my daughter, the artistic one, does not dream in color – she gave me a strange look when I told her that I do.  My son, the logical one, on the other hand sporadically dreams in color.  Go figure.

And now onto  some official business — I have been tagged by none other than Kathryn (the Great) Sparks! I haven’t responded to a tag in a long while – I think the last one was 2 years ago – there just aren’t a lot of good quality tags out and about in the wilds of Facebook.  And now, to appease your curiosity, and mine:

1. Describe yourself in seven words.

I decided to have a bit of fun with this and I am going to let the letters of my first name do the work for me:

C = Creative

Y = Youthful (without actually being young and nubile any longer!)

N = Noisy

T = Thoughtful

H = Happy (for the most part)

I =   Itchy

A = Absentminded (it’s true)

2. What keeps you up at night?

The next photo that needs editing;  the next page that simply must be turned; Angry Birds; House Hunters International;my poor aching back; sometimes my very own snoring.

3. Whom would you like to be?

I would like to stay just who I am – I don’t believe that God makes any mistakes!

4. What are you wearing now?

A pink long-sleeved tee and ivory Sherpa lined zip-up hoodie,  my favorite blue jeans that hang just a bit too much and my softest white socks.

5. What scares you?

Spiders.  Spiders on a boat over water so deep that it looks black.  Spiders in really high places.  Spiders that follow me in a dark parking lot. Spiders that won’t let me pay my bills.  Spiders that keep me from my loved ones.  Spiders that will take me too soon from my children.  Spiders that cause colon cancer.

6. What are the best and worst things about blogging?

Best:  The opportunity to meet new people, have meetings of the mind and maybe to find a kindred spirit or two.

Worst:  The total anonymity that it affords a person who wants to do another ill and the lack of actual personal contact that can make it so impersonal at times.

7. What was the last website you looked at?

I just happened to be over at YouTube watching Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks in order to post a link to a group I was shanghaied into on Facebook that goes by the improbable name Eric’s Minions aka The Ericinians.

8. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

I need to pray more.

9. Slankets – yes or no?

Well, I am off to Google this one because I have no idea what a Slanket is….. Okay, it is like a Snuggie, one of which I was given last Christmas and promptly handed it over to my daughter – she wears it backward and it drags along the floor behind her while the cats chase it.  So I am going to give this one a NO.

10. Tell us something about the person who tagged you.

What can I say about Kathryn?  I could give you the cold hard facts as she has told them to us, but I prefer to stick with my impressions.  Kathryn is warm, witty, smart, caring, empathetic, artistic, creative and colorful.  I think Kathryn MUST dream in color!

Whom are you going to tag to join the quiz?

I am going out on a limb here and tagging only four fabu bloggers, all of them quite different and all of whom I admire:

Life by the Creek

Happiness to be Had

Rama Ink.

365 + K. Ballou