Inflammation of the Imagination

I was walking on the bike path a few months ago with a new friend. It was a brisk walk on a chilly day.

In the distance there was a man walking toward us with something on a leash. And it looked like the thing attached to the leash was wearing some sort of clothing.

I chuckle and say, “Oh my, look at that! It’s a big, old wooly sheep coming our way!”

Ginny laughed and said, “You have quite the imagination, don’t you? Have you written a book yet?”

Ummm, I can barely make hair appointments to get my gray roots covered! A book could get in the way of my commitment and time issues. So, the short answer to that is a no.

As we got a bit closer it became quite clear that the man was walking a greyhound (dog) and it was also wearing a jacket.

Totally looked like a wooly sheep to me. 🙂

Reminded me of another Edna St. Vincent Millay quote. The poet once shared with a friend, “I suffer from inflammation of the imagination!”

That’s the absolute best. Everyone should suffer from this ailment. Even just a little bit.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend with inflamed imaginations!

 

 

 

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Thanksgiving 2018

I just wanted to take a moment to wish all of you a happy Thanksgiving. I am thankful that you continue to read along while I share my thoughts and experiences. I appreciate you and your feedback.

Today I am also very thankful that my family is having a traditional Thanksgiving in our home country. The four of us are actually under one roof. It’s been six years. It’s like a Thanksgiving miracle.

I am super thankful for my family. Even if they drive me crazy. Or maybe it’s me driving them crazy. But there are no words to describe my love. It’s that special.

I don’t just have love for the husband, kids and dog. I have more in reserve. It extends to the entire clann.

And to friends. I am really grateful for my friends and I love them.

When I was a kid if I liked someone I thought they were just beautiful. Like literally. Sure, I got some sidelong glances, maybe some eye rolls, as a result of that thinking. But you know what? I still believe that.

I remember asking my mother a question when I was older and pregnant with my first. After, of course, I wished and prayed for a healthy little baby. Was along the lines of, “What if I give birth to an ugly little sucker?” LOL I’m just being honest.

My mom, with no hesitation, answered with, “How would you know?”

That’s the thing. I think my family and friends are just beautiful. All of them. How would I know any different?

Wishing you all the love of family and friends! I hope you are surrounded by beauty.

 

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Walk In The Park

Each day I take a walk by myself here in Delhi. Mostly at a local park named Lodi.

I try and give the Fitbit some action. But I also sit and do a lot of watching. There is always something going on here. More than twenty types of birds. Hawks swooping down with their unique scream agitating the crows. It’s a cacophony that the forty young deaf people doing some type of team bonding in the middle of the field cannot hear. Soccer/football playing. Family photo sessions. Picnics. People working out on exercise equipment. Contortionists in the yoga section.

Starting to see some of the same people each day. An old fellow with what appears to be a radio in his hand. A guy walking a Bull Terrier just like Spuds Mackenzie-except black. Too many young lovers to count. Not sure if they are same ones each day. An elderly man who is undergoing chemotherapy walking with a cane and a young assistant. He wears a tweed jacket that is too big for him and a black Greek fisherman’s woolen cap. A guy playing the flute on a bench in the middle of the park.

India really is incredible. You never know what to expect. Every day is different.

See below for some of my park photos. I hope you enjoy them.

I am all for this.

Wait a second! The back of these signs. I’m getting mixed messages here.

Bird house in the middle of the park? Check out the two photo bombers.

Hundreds of these birds in the park. Never gets old.

Caught my eye. Sacred Fig. Considered a sacred tree for Hindu folks.

Very cool. Section of park that has exercise equipment for those in wheelchairs.

Not the best quality photo. Color coordinated Sikh family photo shoot.

Loved these carvings.

Hijra (transgendered folks) looking for monetary donations from people in the park.

Not sure what the colored smoke symbolised.

Lily pads.

Stepping stones.

I call this one Narcissus.

Sweet potato man. As in the potato is sweet. I am not sure about the man.

Hawks on the ground, in flight and resting in the trees.

Vendor with a lot on his mind.

Palm trees.

Spud Makenzie’s Indian cousin.

I happened upon this crew. A parakeet chowing down with three squirrels.

M for Mary.

A dog just curled up and napping away.

Seriously how does one do that?

I liked this sign. They certainly spelled it out for visitors.

The end. I slip under the chain to exit at Gate 11. Not where I entered. 🙂

 

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend!

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Smile and Pause

Just thought I would share some photos that made me smile. Or pause. All taken in Malaysia. I hope you enjoy them.

 

Just wondering if it’s the real thing?

I see these all the time. Always think it’s some type of obscene gesture.

Maybe the kids will eat their peas if we make them into cookies.

This guy washed up on an uninhabited island in Langkawi.

Repurposing taken to another level. A couple of my chums live on this street so I see this piece of art on a regular basis.

This is not my dog, Thumper. Rusty is a Thumper look-alike who belongs to a friend but I just love this photo. Because of Rusty, his shadow and the view of Kuala Lumpur.

It’s not a crime but it sort of is.

Fabulous mural but not sure about that gaping hole.

True confession time. I hit up McDonald’s once in awhile when I’m jonesing for a Big Mac. I was quite surprised to see that the Taro Pies had sold out so quickly.

Is the tailor a fat man? Or just his customers?

This is my Thumper. Always finds a sunbeam to soak up the sun. No matter the location.

Watching workmen and their safety practices across the way is enough to cause anyone anxiety. What I don’t understand is why the three ladders? No key to the house? Notice the first one-barely touching the landing.

This little lady was spotted by my friend while we were sitting at a lovely beach side restaurant in Langkawi. In the middle of the photo- not even a quarter of the way down. Mona Lisa? Jesus’ mom? Orphan from Les Miserables? Hey, is that Frankenstein about half way down to the right?

Have a wonderful week! I hope it’s filled with many smiles and a few pauses.

 

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A Fright

I was about to step into the shower today. But I heard noises in the living area across the hall from my master bedroom.

Totally figured that mutt of mine was into something. As usual.

Like when I caught him with a box of butterscotch candies the other day. Thinking he was all slick. Or yesterday when he was chewing on the foil pack in which my antibiotics had been packaged.

He knows me. That there could always be the day when I think, “Ah, I can’t be bothered. I’m sure he’ll live.” So he keeps on keeping on.

And he also understands that it’s not my caring about him that makes me investigate. It’s usually the bothersome noise (crunching of hard candy) that disturbs my concentration or thinking he might be gnawing on something of mine that has some value. I could care less if his fishy breath is masked by butterscotch or if he staves off infection with residual grains of antibiotic.

That canine has consumed ear buds, feminine products, glass bulbs and had a go at many an item such as toothbrushes, dental retainers, stuffed animals and my valuable dime store specs. You just never know.

So, I thought I’d have a quick check since the noises continued.

I wrap a towel around my fifty year old body. My hair is up in a clip. Accompanying specs as always. Oh, and my face is slathered in a white hair removal cream.

Who cares? My dog certainly won’t.

I slip across the hall and poke my head into the room fully expecting a big mess.

Nearly had a heart attack when there was a little Malay man sitting on the floor!

I totally jumped, yelped out,”Geez!” and then fled, heart pounding, back into my bedroom!

Oh my goodness! Wasn’t expecting him.

My dog was probably thinking, “Gotcha good that time! Totally wasn’t me!”

I was telling the story to my friend. She started laughing. Then told me about the time when she was first married. Her husband was at work and she figured she had the house to herself so thought she’d give herself a bikini treatment.

Some time into it she felt someone’s presence a few meters away. Yup, was the lawn guy just outside the window.

I was laughing out loud.

So, there you have it, folks. Someone always has a story that’s better (or worse!) than yours.

Now I have to go find my pup so I can apologize. And have a talk with whoever let a repairman into the house unannounced.

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On The Edge

I think that the instinct for survival is amazing. Look at the cockroaches. They could teach a lesson or two about avoiding the whole extinction thingy. But I’m not talking about procreating at the speed of sound. That’s just a numbers game.

I am referring to survival of the individual.

My dog is the scrappiest mutt I know and I still have doubts about his ability to “make the right decisions.” He’s part terrier with some beagle so that boy has got himself a sense that relies heavily on his sniffer. But shouldn’t the instinct to survive be strongest?  Instead of wildly chasing a cat that you are not going to eat? Because you just had your “healthy choice” meal. And you are not hungry. And deep down inside you might even be a little afraid of that feline you are chasing.

Will he jump?

Every time “Thumper” joins us on the balcony with his nose sniffin’ the air my heart pounds. I grab his collar. My husband says, “Leave him alone, Mary. He’s not going to jump from the third floor.”

I say, “Really? He broke his hind leg when he was a puppy trying to jump on the counter where his treats were. The ensuing arguments (after getting vet bill) almost caused our divorce!”

And I continue, “And this same scent hound slammed his body into a corrugated steel fence by the soccer field three weeks ago while chasing a cat!”

Why should I believe he won’t jump? Even though he really is smarter than all get out. But one of his instincts tends to “outstinct” another.

Would he run across the busy street filled with racing cars to catch the cat without a second thought? I think so.

Instinct does not reason. Or allow for a second thought.

I just find it interesting. And I really started thinking about it when I saw ants that had gathered in our coffee cups left on the patio this past weekend in Bali. Nothing too deep to get me thinking.

They were all just enjoying the sweet stuff. Like employees at the water cooler sharing plans for the upcoming weekend.

On the edge

Like wild animals at the local watering hole. Standing on the edge, sipping away but not daring to wade in.

Why do the ants not drown? Take the plunge thinking it might be sweeter in deeper waters? Why do they stay on the edge? Do they think it’s cold? Are they having second thoughts? Are they arguing?

“No, you go in first.”

“No, you!”

Are they just trying to survive? Is it their itty bitty instinct?

I’m just curious.

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