Frowns & Smiles

If you're not confused, you're not paying attention.

Tom Peters

They were certainly confused, but I'm not sure they were paying attention. We had a nice snowfall Thursday and it was enough heavy snow to cover the ice. This allowed me to open up two pastures and let the horses out onto larger space. They spent the whole day standing at the gate! Both herds, by the way. All day. At the gate. I give up. I fretted about their lack of exercise and mental freedom and they stand around like lost sheep. What a waste of anxiety.

 This is what a bored horse can do when it sets it mind to something. This took all of about  sixty seconds. What a waste of concern for comfort.

Something nice, snow on the planter 

Snow on the holly bush

Snow and the canes of the antique roses and the bird bath

Thursday's Thinks

I love talking about nothing. It is the only thing I know anything about.

Oscar Wilde

This is Howard with his thoughts. He is a very deep thinker. Really. 

So I have been thinking. Last night when I went to bed I had so much to write about. And I have forgotten all of it. It's very frustrating. I think I need to do brain exercises. What if I found out my brain is in the same condition as my body........stiff and inflexible. My mother used to use a phrase 'fat head', do you think my brain, as my body, could be fat?

I think about exercise. That's what I do, think about exercise. Then I have a bowl of ice cream and ponder the state of the world. I think about getting up on a horse. If thinking were riding I would be very fit.

We are supposed to have a lot of snow today, so I think I will work the knots out of the horse's manes. I think I will be able to accomplish this. Unless I decide to blog surf instead. That would be a bad decision, so I think I had better not make it. I think I'm getting office chair butt from sitting at a computer too much. I do believe I'm turning into one of those people and I think that is not a good thing. My life is messy around me as I sit at my lovely Mac typing and reading.  I need to exercise discipline. I need to exercise my brain. I need to exercise my body. It's exhausting to contemplate, so what will it feel like doing it.

I have stopped consuming politics as a steady diet. I was regularly swearing like a sailor. I think I need to moderate myself.

I'm really grateful that the horses have been able to be outside again. I think we, the horses and I, were on our way to a form of insanity, so we got the snow just in time. I know I need to get up from my chair and get to work. I have a lot in common with Howard. I can be a blob on a chair just like him. My ears haven't gotten quite that big, not yet, but my nose is well on its way. Ever since I found out cartilage continues to grow I've wondered if I will become Howard. It's said people look like their dogs. I certainly don't resemble Grace or Atlas, so ........., oh well. 

Poetry

A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o'clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.

HOPE

by: Emily Brontë (1818-1848)

HOPE Was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.

 

She was cruel in her fear;
Through the bars one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there,
And she turned her face away!

 

Like a false guard, false watch keeping,
Still, in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping;
If I listened, she would cease.

 

False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;

 

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and ne'er returned again!

A Horse Is A Horse, Unless He's A Superstar.

The horse is God's gift to mankind.  ~Arabian Proverb

I'm not sure if I should use this bit of advertising material, but I am. 

We have the biggest name in the Arabian horse world, and perhaps in the horse world, in Minnesota. 

This horse and he were a part of a big scandal close to ten years ago, which resulted in the bankrupting of the governing body of the Arabian industry. It also resulted in the five year suspension from showing of this trainer. I left the show world when the Arabian US Nationals welcomed him back with open arms. I couldn't stand it anymore, there was no way for me to justify my involvement in a morally bankrupt organization after this. 

I'm bringing this up because I found out, on facebook of all places, that the scandal surrounding this pair continues. This horse won the Senior Stallion Championship at Scottsdale. This is not a surprise. What I have since been reading about and looking at in photos is the alleged whip mark on his shoulder. USEF strictly forbids a horse being shown with a welt. One of the judges called this, but in the end it was overlooked and they went on to win. There is an internet furor over this. Again.

For those who don't know, Stallion halter is a blood sport. I played it for a while and barely made it out alive. The money in this group is beyond what you can reasonably imagine. Of course the owners of the horses have more money than sense, but it is an ego sport of massive proportion and anyone who plays, plays for keeps. The top stallions bring in millions and sell for multimillions. The trainers handling them and selling their get make millions. This trainer can ruin anyone who gets in his way, so the beat goes on. If, somehow he was to be taken down, someone would move into his place and it would be the same. This is my opinion based on years in the industry and nothing else.

The horse in this is a horse. He hasn't any control over how he is used, what is said about him or how he is portrayed. He is a very valuable horse who is more than likely about as unhappy as a horse can get. And he isn't alone in that, he is just at the top of the heap. I find myself feeling very sorry for him. For all of them, but this poor thing in particular. Like his sire and grandsire before him, life cannot have been easy.

I wanted to write about it. I have been so removed over the past years that I don't know who is who anymore, or what is what. And then I see this on facebook. It seems I can't entirely remove myself from what I don't want to see or hear. I feel the same knot in the pit of my stomach that used to be there regularly. I could become angry again. But I've done that and the activism that comes with it. It's a waste of indignation, because the powers that be are no different than the major offenders. They have the industry that they want. It is profitable and it is ego fulfilling. It suits them. You may as well spit into the wind as try to change it. So I moved on. But I can't help but feel a little sick as I think about it once again. But it's beyond me, so I can only go down to my own barn and look at my horses and be grateful.

Random Thoughts, Sunday Quiet

So much of life, it seems to me, is determined by pure randomness. 

Sydney Poitier

It's a quiet Sunday morning and for the first time in a while I don't feel anxious and rushed. What, you may ask, is the cause of my new-found ease? Snow. It snowed Friday night, enough snow to cover the ice in some of my turnout. Enough to be able to get all of my horses outside for the day. There is no way for me to put into words what this does for my state of well-being, not to mention theirs. So life returns to a state of normalcy.

Mark and I worked the entire day away in the barn yesterday. You wouldn't think that would be a pleasing thing, but it sure was. We got those stalls stripped and freshly bedded, all of them. Life is good! You take your blessing where you find them. I happen to find mine in the smell of fresh pine shavings.

Kristina is able to get back on a schedule with Zing. All three of us are happy about that. But the time off appears to have been productive for Zing. He had been sore and had acupuncture in the early part of January, but still was displaying soreness through the back. And he was crabby. A month of rest has done him a world of good, mentally as well as physically. He is moving beautifully, with so much suspension in his trot. He lives next to my talented Shaka and I think he gets lessons overnight from him. As long as Shaka doesn't start telling Zing how to behave, it is all good. I will be so happy to get outside in the spring. An indoor arena is a must in this climate, but I don't like being in a tin box. Kristina and I are looking forward to resuming lessons with Bill. It's a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. The winter has been too hard to even consider adding lessons into the day.

It's a cold morning, a couple of degrees below zero, but nothing can ruin my renewed spirit and cause me to complain. A little cold air is nothing to me. I have snow over the ice and horses outside! And a pile of sleeping dogs around my feet. I think this is a life worth having.

Oi, Gevald!

Middle age is when your age starts to show around your middle.
Bob Hope

Anyone of a certain age probably knows this, but as I have grown older, certain body parts have grown larger. I've noticed my nose is bigger, my feet are bigger and the sockets have deepened around my eyes!

I understand why my butt is bigger, why I don't have a waist and why I have chipmunk cheeks. But how does a nose get larger. My helper Deb told me cartilage doesn't stop growing. Great. My spine compresses and makes me shorter and my nose and ears can keep growing until I end up looking like one of the seven dwarfs.

I think I need something to eat.

Thursday's Thinks

We must reject the idea..well-intentioned, but dead wrong.. that the primary path to greatness in social sectors is to become "more like a business." Most businesses..like most of anything else in life..fall somewhere between mediocre and good. ~ Jim Collins

I have many things on my mind, much of it to do with the state of the State. I will keep it brief. I am hopeful that we will come out of the mess we are in. When that happens, we need to deal with what got us here in the first place. I'll leave it at that.

I need to remind myself that things can always be worse, but I CANNOT stand much more of this awful winter. My poor horses are suffering.

I think Wall Street is a criminal syndicate. I am tired of hearing about Wall Street and how it reacts. Wall Street and how it has reacted has a great deal to do with why we are where we are at this time.

Gracie is feeling better, but she has lost a little over a pound since her last clinic visit. Other than the weight issue, she seems well. Babe has been well since her near-death experience, so I'll add a little thankfulness into this.

My son is entering home ownership. I think this is a good thing for him.

I think I like my hair gray better than this lighter brown. I think I'm glad it isn't permanent. I do like the haircut. I'm actually thinking about buying some new barn clothes, but then I think maybe I should take off some weight first. Sounds so simple when I write it, but it is much more difficult in reality. I think I'm dreaming.

My brain is sluggish and I think it is anxiously waiting for spring. I have some horses anxiously waiting for me to feed them, so I think I ought to stop typing and go to work.

Turnings

The sixties were when hallucinogenic drugs were really, really big. And I don't think it's a coincidence that we had the type of shows we had, like The Flying Nun.

Ellen DeGeneres

Coincidence, a word often overused. But, I think appropriate under the circumstances. I blogged about my teenage crush and my musical appreciation of Shawn Phillips a few weeks ago. I saw him in concert in the early eighties, not when I first discovered him. He had short hair and I was so surprised, and truthfully a little disappointed. But he was what he has always been; a musician. So last Saturday Mark saw in the paper that he will be in concert at the Guthrie Theatre May 4th. My son is a chef in the catering division of the complex, so I called him to ask for tickets. When he got back to me he told me they were nearly sold out, even though they had just gone on sale that day. I was surprised, but he told me "All of you old hippies are coming out of the woodwork". He also told me no one he worked with knew who he is. He told them to think Cat Stevens, only boring. He was justly chastised. Anyway, the boy came through. Center stage, ten rows up. He helped an old hippy out, good boy.

Anyway.......life turns, we move along, we put one foot in front of the other. But we also stay the same, at some level. I love this man. He avoided the really terminal aspects of the time and the industry. He is a song writer and a musician and a poet. He never sold out and he never stopped being who he is. I am a fan and I am going to hear him in the waning years. It's a good thing. We've all changed, but not so much.

Shawn circa 1970

Sandra circa 1970

Shawn circa 2007

Sandra circa 2007

Life, it is a grand play on a very large stage.

Vanity, Thy Name Is Sandra

There are no grades of vanity, there are only grades of ability in concealing it.

Mark Twain

I have been very successful at concealing it, but it's still there. I let my hair go gray in 2006, and I will say I have beautiful gray hair. But it is gray and gray hair does make you look older. 

I was able to leave the gulag today and had my hair cut. The stylist told me if I wanted to, I could put temporary color in my hair, that it will wash out in 6 weeks. So I did. It's much lighter than my natural color was, but it's a change from gray. My gray is a beautiful steel color and I'm glad I was a dark haired person, I don't have mousey gray hair. But it's sort of fun to have some color and know I don't need to keep it.

A change brings a lightness to my heart, which has been missing for awhile. It won't make life any easier, it won't melt the ice or get the horses exercise. It does make me smile when I see a different 'me' in the mirror. I won't do this for a long time, but it was a pleasant lift during a rather miserable time, so I'm all for it.

And it's great fun when someone sees me and is startled! It's also good to know my lovely gray hair is under there when I decide I want it back.

Poetry Wednesday

Irony by Amy Lowell

American Poet ~ 1874 - 1925

An arid daylight shines along the beach
Dried to a grey monotony of tone,
And stranded jelly-fish melt soft upon
The sun-baked pebbles, far beyond their reach
Sparkles a wet, reviving sea. Here bleach
The skeletons of fishes, every bone
Polished and stark, like traceries of stone,
The joints and knuckles hardened each to each.
And they are dead while waiting for the sea,
The moon-pursuing sea, to come again.
Their hearts are blown away on the hot breeze.
Only the shells and stones can wait to be
Washed bright. For living things, who suffer pain,
May not endure till time can bring them ease.

                               

Busy

I have been very busy the last week and have not been able to attend to my blog very well. I also have not been able to check on the blogs I follow faithfully. I am tired in the evening and up and running early in the morning, so I'm going to be hit and miss for awhile. This will pass, but not yet! Life in Minnesota with livestock and rotten weather conditions makes Sandra a dull, tired and grumpy sort. As Arnold so famously said, I'll be back.

Down Dreams, Wakeful Wonderings

I am accustomed to sleep and in my dreams to imagine the same things that lunatics imagine when awake.

Rene Descartes

I have some profound thoughts after I lay my head on the pillow. As I drift into sleep I form ideas that are inspiring. I think, I will write about this tomorrow. I fall asleep. I promptly forget.

Too bad, because I clearly remember that last night I thought of something great and now it will never hit the printed page. The Pulitzer of Blogs will never be mine and all because my inspiration is my head upon a pillow at the end of a tiring day and not the rising sun at the beginning of the tiring day.

I could keep pen and paper at my bedside, but I fear all that would accomplish is a chasing away of brilliant thoughts and sleep as I stirred to wakefulness. Therefor the world will never know how insightful my bedtime musings are. 

It's probably a good thing that my nighttime musing fade away with the coming of dawn. I would be disappointed to find that they weren't so brilliant after all. This way, I will forever be able to believe the most profound thinking I possess is done as I drift into the comfort of sleep.

Happy Saint Valentine's Day

Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.

-Saint-Exupery

Saint Valentine and a day of love and romance. It is surprising that at martyred Saint has lent his name to a day filled with boxes of chocolate and dozens of over-priced flowers!

I didn't get either, but I got something worth more to me, big time help in the barn. So I am happy. And he is going out to pick up dinner. I am very happy. 

I hope everyone had a nice day and if you have someone you love, I hope you showed it.

Food * Wine * Fun

Who has but once dined his friends, has tasted what it is to be Caesar.

Herman Mellville, 'Moby Dick' (1851)

So I managed to get away from the gulag last night for a lovely evening of white wine, Chicken Kiev and conversation.

Dinner in a restaurant on a week day is an ideal time to linger. We ate good food, drank good wine and laughed. I really needed to laugh because my current situation is so bad that I run the risk of becoming unbearable. I can do unbearable very well and would rather not.

Today is another day, but I feel better about life in general, at least at the start of the day! My unfortunate horses probably don't share my renewed spirit and that realization doesn't help my cause. If I could find another solution for their confinement, I would, but I don't see a way out in the foreseeable future. So we rotate and I tell them I'm sorry.

For about three hours I was able to forget everything that awaits my attention as we talked and laughed about nothing. Life usually offers its small blessings.

Frozen Misery

Life is divided into the horrible and the miserable.

Woody Allen

What it looks like around here. 

Tween Thinks & Thanks

Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?  ~Winnie the Pooh

I think I am very grateful for an indoor arena. Without it I would have no place to let horses out to. My farm is covered in ice. I sometimes think I'm getting too old for this!

I'm not getting enough outside stimulation lately. I'm getting plenty of blood-pressure raising stimulation, but my mind is stuck in a rut of difficult work and unpleasant news. I know this will pass eventually.

I have an opportunity to get out this evening and I think I should try hard to take it! It would go a long way to helping with the prior problem.

It's very important to have diverse stimulation for the brain. 

Ice Dancing

The horses and I have become ice dancers! It's been a real adventure for us to navigate the ice and it's come down to arena turnout only. That's a lot of maneuvering when there are 27 of them and I can only put 2 -3 out at a time. And of course we have the special needs of the stallions to consider. Whew! I'm tied to this place as long as this continues, which looks like no end in sight anytime soon.

I did the above move twice yesterday. The ice was covered in water from rainfall the night before, making it really hazardous. I had a neighbor die last year from slipping on the ice and hitting his head, so I have become a little skittish about it.

An old TV commercial keeps playing in my head; Calgon, take me away. Mark asked me what I would do if I didn't have the indoor arena. I told him I'd tell him I was going into Mound and never come back! I think he believed me.

Poetry Wednesday

A Proper Tea is much nicer than a Very Nearly Tea, which is one you forget about afterwards.  ~A.A. Milne

A Nice Cup of Tea

A nice cup of tea solves so many things,
Like how to calm down when the front doorbell rings.
If you take long enough they’ll just go away,
Or they’ll need a hot drink, "Chamomile or Earl Grey?"

“Won’t you please share a cup?” make’s a new friend for life.
It’s amazing how tea solves all troubles and strife.
It’s calm on the ocean.  It’s peace in the soul.
It even drinks nicely when it’s gone icy cold.

Take the load off your feet.  Relax your sore mind.
Be good to yourself.  What tea can we find?
Black, green or herb?  They’re all a delight.
They’re good for your health.  Tea makes everything right.

Here’s the answer to problems.  World peace it could bring.
Who can argue and fight when the kettle steam sings?
It’s a miracle drink!  No doubt about that.
You can drink it all day, it won’t make you fat.

And a frightening big stranger, or large law enforcer,
Seems suddenly kind holding teacup and saucer.
It just goes to show how good life can be,
When all troubles are solved with a nice cup of tea.

B. A. Llewellyn

I am a tea drinker. I thought I needed a light little bit of fun for Poetry Wednesday!

A Little Light Noise

My great mistake, the fault for which I can't forgive myself, is that one day I ceased my obstinate pursuit of my own individuality.

Oscar Wilde

On a lighter note...........25 random things. It's all over facebook and the blogs. I have been tagged on facebook too many times. I have refused to play. If I need to sit down and write 25 things about myself, I would be bored with me very quickly. Do you really care that I don't like mayonnaise on sandwiches? I don't care all that much, unless I have to eat it.

Now this thing has made the national news and the newspapers. Really. 

I don't eat mushrooms. I don't like buttered bread or anything made with creamed soup. I don't like potluck dinners because all bread is invariably buttered and most things are made with creamed soup.

Without prompting, I reveal more about myself and my life than most people care to know. But I bristle at the prompting. I've done 7 random things, but 25 is too much. So, I'll reveal my unruly youth, my political ranting, my horse addiction and my hatred of housework as the spirit moves me. But I will not reveal 25 random things about me on command. I'd rather do 1000 over my own time. I have many more food issues.

Where Is The Off Button?

Members of Congress should wear uniforms like NASCAR drivers so we could identify their corporate sponsors. 

 Author Unknown

I need to know where it is. I wrote a blog topic this morning that I decided that I wouldn't care to read. I am my audience and if I don't like it, I'm not likely to put it on cyber-space.

I am a political wonk. I watch Morning Joe, Hardball, Keith Olberman & Rachel Maddow. I listen to Stephanie Miller, Ed Schultz & Thom Hartmann. I read the paper, I read the internet. I watched President Obama's news conference and his town hall meetings. I read books. I know too much and it is making me dreadfully depressed.

I listened to Nobel Laureate Economist Paul Krugman, starting five years ago, and was silly enough to try to tell people what he was saying. That we were heading for an economic meltdown.

I need the off button. Maybe it will be spring and the end off all this ice.

Phone, Friend And Horses

What is a friend? I will tell you...it is someone with whom you dare to be yourself. ~Frank Crane

I had a great day yesterday. I got my work done early, had lunch and called a friend. I spent the afternoon on the phone, something that is as rare as hen's teeth.

We talked about horses the whole afternoon. Those of you without horses will never understand this, but people with horses can talk about them for hours. And we did. There are as many opinions about how to keep a horse, how to train a horse and use a horse, what breed of horse is preferred, as there are people with horses. There is something about horses that can keep the interest of those involved with them to the point of obsession. Or perhaps there is something about the people in general and horses are simply the cover.

I know the horses in my barn better than I know my own family. I can walk down the aisle and hone in on something amiss in a heartbeat. I know their personalities and temperamental quirks. I know what makes them mad, happy and scared. I know who holds grudges and who goes along with the flow. There are the aloof and the mischief makers. The bosses and the followers. Those that continue throughout their lives to challenge authority. I talk to them, I sing to them and I swear at them. They call out to me, they turn their backs to me and they pin their ears at me. They communicate as much as I do.

I like horses better than I like many people who own horses, so it is a strange world to be moving in. If you have horses you invariably mingle with people with horses. Talk about two sides of the same coin.

I like the friend I whiled the day away with, though. She's had a different experience with horses from mine, but we still connect on the same plain. And that's a pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Very Little Ado About Nothing

Doing nothing is better than being busy doing nothing.

LaoTzu ~ Founder of Taoism

I don't have much to say. Nothing much is rattling around in my head, so I think it's best to follow the advice of the quote and not be busy doing nothing. Otherwise I bore myself silly, as well as anyone who happens across my ramblings. We have a nice day ahead and I believe I will take advantage of it.

Britwife Where Did You Go?

I need to make a topic, since I don't have any other means to communicate. Your blog is gone and I visit it daily. Therefore I wonder. I enjoyed your humor. You don't need to respond here, my email is in my profile. I hope all is well.

Love, Loss And A Horse

There is no secret so close as that between a rider and his horse.  ~Robert Smith Surtees

My boy is unhappy. He is a crabby, agitated stallion. I didn't recognize it initially because Zing does have ADHA, so his unhappiness escaped me for awhile. It finally occurred to me, he misses Kristina.

Zing is Kristina's horse. She rides him. She fusses with him. I raised him. I feed him. I am the enforcer. She is his person. Zing is a hand-raised orphan, which has caused him to have a different relationship with people. He believes we are an ugly species of horse. Or, he is a gorgeous version of human. Zing is very tuned in to his surroundings and his relationships. 

Personal matters, weather and car problems have kept Kristina away for a couple of months. Zing is not pleased. His girl is coming out today and he will be like a happy puppy when he sees her. Which is not as cute as it sounds when the puppy is a thousand pound stallion.

This brings me to my next problem. I have had several young woman pass through my barn over the years. The key is, they pass through. The horses never became attached to these women, until now. The reality is, Kristina will not be any different. She will move on. And Zing will mourn. Which means I will mourn. He is my baby, all four legs and thousand pounds. But his dear heart belongs to a temporary love.

Thursday's Thinks

I have forced myself to contradict myself in order to avoid conforming to my own taste.

Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) French Artist

Contradictions. We are made up of a series of contradictions. Some people more so than others, but it is, I think a common thread and what makes people interesting. Also frustrating.

I am a walking contradiction. I don't have religious beliefs and yet I can be preachily moralistic, almost Calvinist. I have an unease about people becoming so isolated in their lives as they retreat into the iPods, cellphones and twitter life, yet I blog. I don't care for coarse behavior, yet I can be as coarse as anyone if the right button is pushed. I am somewhat reticent and then gregarious. The idea of people going out shooting animals for sport is repulsive to me, yet I eat meat.

Doublethink means the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them.

George Orwell

I say "God help me", but I don't believe in God. Yet, I firmly believe in the freedom to worship and would argue for that right to my last breath. I also would argue as forcefully that I should be able to be free from religion. I admire and enjoy beautiful things in life, yet I am always a mess. I believe people have a right to their own beliefs, yet I get really annoyed when those beliefs are uninformed.

I love my dogs and usually want to wring their necks. I think politically correct is a label conservatives came up with to excuse boorish behavior and yet I often fall into the trap.

I was urban born and raised, thought the country would never be for me. I live in the country. I like living in the country but would not want to raise a child in the country. I had one child and didn't want the responsibility of any more and I own 25 horses and all the responsibility that comes with it.

I love being around people and I seek solitude. I can take myself very seriously and I can laugh at myself easily. I can be smug and condescending and humble and self-deprecating. I believe one can only forgive if forgiveness is asked for, yet I don't have an ability to turn my back on people.

I'm simple, complex, impossible, easy-going, kind, hard as nails, hardworking, languid. Introspective, thick as a brick, intellectual and sophomoric. Friendly and withdrawn. I guess I'm human.

IRREVERENCE

Every society honors its live conformists, and its dead troublemakers.  ~Mignon McLaughlin

Lunch With A Friend

My friends are my estate.

- Emily Dickinson

A simple pleasure. An afternoon spent eating, swapping stories, reminiscing. Realizing life is more than the hustle and bustle of the next thing that needs doing. 

You know, we go around, chasing our tail and forgetting about the important things. Too much time on internet forums, facebook and blogs and not enough face time with the people in our lives. Quick snippets of interaction, helpful to be sure in our busy times, but a poor substitute for an afternoon spent over a leisurely lunch which is a lovely excuse for time with a person.

I thank my friend for an uplifting afternoon of conversation and fine food. Too long a time has passed between. I won't let that happen anymore.

Poetry Wednesday

To the Thawing Wind

Come with rain. O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
make the settled snowbank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate'er you do tonight,
bath my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ice will go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit's crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o'er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door.

Robert Frost

LOLA!

Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden...

Author Unknown

I know everyone is going to be tired of the fact that I learned how to post videos. Blame my friend Jeni. 

This cracks me up. I don't want to disillusion my blogger friends (or some of you who have known me awhile), but I had a life before the farm and it was rather different from this. I used to hang out at Froggy's on Lake St. on Friday nights with the transvestites and this was a favorite song. I remember a duplex I lived in, in the Wedge neighborhood of Minneapolis. One night, late, the neighbors had a big party and a bunch of drunken young men were in the yard singing this. They had no idea what it was about, but they sure were having a good time!

It's a, fun, mischievous song by one of the great bands, the Kinks. I'll stop. I think. But it's an enjoyable way to spend my time in the evening and it makes me laugh. So bear with me. I'll go back to being my age eventually!