Haiku & Other Poetry, History, Travel, tutto e niente

Calling All Boots-Flashback Friday

This Fandango Friday Flashback post was originally part of a FOWC from on October 17, 2018! I failed to say what that original prompt was and Fandago’s domain has changed, so who knows? My bad.

Whatever it was, I worked it into my blog for an upcoming trip. I cannot believe that it’s been seven years since we embarked on this crazy driving epic! It turned out to be a an eventful and fun trip. I blogged the whole adventure, so for anyone who may be interested in some random road pics, history lessons, art museums, music memories, middle of the night fire alarms, rants about the orange one, and BOOTS, you can find them all here: 

 Calling All Boots (this is also posted below) 

Two Days Before Dawn  

Alarm Bells

Finally! It’s the Road Trip Epilogue 

You can also find some other travel adventures via my TRAVEL tab. Although, sadly the realities of life have reduced our travel life considerably. Oh well.  I’m happy to say we are no longer stuck in Florida, so I don’t need to drive to the Fall. It finds me! 

So please enjoy my happy (and some not so happy-I’m looking at you MAGA) memories and if you can please support your local NO KINGS events. 

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON 10/17/2018: 

Today’s prompt from FOWC inspired me (one could say it prompted me) to say a few words about the road trip that begins when my husband and I rise Thursday morning at the beautifully dark hour of 4:30AM and hit the road by 5:30.

“Where ya headed?”

Glad you asked. We are going north to escape the endless summer that has wrapped Florida in its deadly grip. We seek the Fall! Memories of cute boots and scarves and blue jeans and sweaters beckon.

“Come to me!!” They call.

“Wear me.” They tease.

“Wrap me.” They whisper.

I am tingling with excitement.

Oh and I get to see friends and family too. So it’s a win-win.

Of course this road trip includes a giant triangle of driving—South Florida to middle Illinois to Washington DC to south Florida—so it’s possible I’ll change my mind about the win-win. But for now I’ve got the pod casts downloaded and the play lists set.

Here we come autumn!

Updates to follow 🎃 but here’s a haiku to keep you warm till then. It’s not great but … BOOTS!!

As the moon falls low

We rise for a journey long

Seeking boots of fall

Haiku & Other Poetry, History, Random Rants, tutto e niente

she said but he said-Flashback Friday

For Fandango’s Flashback Friday, I reached back to the days when we still thought that maybe there might be lasting consequences for the lies.

Fandango’s Flashback Friday — September 26th

This was originally published in September, 2018.

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she said but he said

wilting efforts and fresh lies

laid bare to the world

brown wooden cubes

Double thanks to Putting My Feet in the Dirt and RonovanWrites

History, Random Rants, tutto e niente

When I was young …

You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?

When I was young I thought we had this shit figured out.

The battle wasn’t over but we had admitted that women are autonomous human creatures … yada yada yada. Sadly, madly, infuriatingly, age has shown me that a whole bunch of people continue to define a woman only as a meat sack that surrounds a baby-making box.

Not just an opening sentence — an opening salvo …

Photo by Emma Guliani on Pexels.com
Haiku & Other Poetry, History, tutto e niente

Friendship as a Metaphor

Not the time or place

Friendship as a metaphor

A true love denied

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“Sappho and Erinna in a Garden at Mytilene,” was painted by Simeon Solomon. As a gay Jewish artist living in Victorian England, his work was almost lost to history.  Solomon, who was associated with the 19th century Pre-Raphaelite movement, had his career cut short when he was arrested twice for same-sex liaisons with men (in 1873 and 1874), at the apogee of his fame, and it tragically changed the course of his life.

After his prosecutions he no longer exhibited, although it was still collected by a select few. In 1884, he was admitted to the workhouse where he continued to produce work, but his life and talent were blighted by alcoholism. Twenty years later in 1905, he died from complications brought on by his alcoholism. He was buried at the Jewish Cemetery in Willesden.

Thanks to Linda Hill’s JusJotJan challenge for the inspiration to share this piece of history.

LOVE IS LOVE!