Throwing Three Prompts Into My Life

Okay WordPressers, I am going to throw three The Daily Post prompts into one post.  Why, you ask?  Well, honestly it’s because they all seem to fit together, at least for my state of mind.  That might mean I’m a little off my rocker, but I think I am allowed that. I am

  1. a female. I can do whatever I want, right? (not really, but it’s my prerogative) AND
  2. I met a guy.  That pretty much throws common sense out of the window at any given point. So please bear with me.

First prompt was No Fair.

I don’t think it’s very fair to meet an incredible guy, only to have said guy tell you that you will make some guy very happy someday.  Especially when you have just clicked with ‘this’ guy and by clicked, I mean really clicked.  Then to have the guy leave.

I am a very single girl woman living where there supply of decent, eligible, marriageable men is severely limited. I mean, severely.  I can probably count on one hand the men I know that are somewhat in this category.  The rest of the men my age are either married themselves or are in the sketchy category.  So, when a charming man who is single, has a good job (a really good job) is a marvelous flirt and a brilliant kisser, comes into your life, you kind of want to hold onto said guy.  It’s not fair to have him up and leave.

Okay, yes, he is hiking the PCT.  He does only have two weeks of vacation left before he has to get back to work at a hospital in Portland, Oregon (can I hear a luxurious sigh, because that’s what I did). He does have family to visit. The weather is not holding out.  But come on.  Pretty girl. Interested pretty girl.  Couldn’t you stay? Like one day longer?  Especially when you have had one incredible evening?  Fair. Ha!

Second prompt. Standstill (and this is not in the exact order that they have been in because I have to fit the non sequitur into the last paragraph)

Oh if I could bring time to a standstill.  I know the ‘rules were for today, but the heck with today. I wish I could make that evening stand still for hours longer.  Five hours was not enough time.  I could just replay it over and over for much longer.

I sometimes wish I could have that standstill moment when important things happen.  So that you can really savor the time and the circumstances.  I would make everything last just a little bit longer.  Heck, if I couldn’t have that time stop, at least slow down.  Time flies too fast for me and nothing ever lasts as long as I want.  An amazing evening with an amazing guy not withstanding.

Last prompt. Non Sequitur.

He tried to hit me with a forklift!   Not really, but I feel like I’ve been at least run over and in the process he took half my heart.  (yes, I realize this prompt does not even closely resemble not being related because I made it relate, but honestly, who talks like that? What I mean is, no one ever says he tried to hit me with a forklift, when they are talking about being struck by something)  So now I’m hoping to either have kept a part of his heart, or at least if not that, he will give back mine at some point.  Right now, he gladly has my heart, not that he really knows, and hopefully while he’s still hiking up to Ashland, OR, it’s keeping him warm at night. (we are getting snow down to the 5K ft. line.  brr.)

And I’m breaking the above prompt because here’s one more paragraph.  Connections you make with people are funny sometimes.  You never know when you are going to just click with someone, and sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.  And you don’t know if you are both clicking or if it’s just one of you.  I like to think that we both clicked, but only time will tell.  Do you all care what way it goes?  Probably not, but that’s okay because this is my minor decompressing and also a chance to try relating three prompts.  I thought it kind of fun.

Signing off

~Kate

The Buzz of It All

yellow jacket's dinner

Yellow jacket on a raspberry flower. These are guys I don’t mess with per say, but they are marvelous as well.

The humble, darling honeybee.  There is something so special about them and yet, I think people forget about them.  Right now I find them hard to forget as I am usually elbow deep in them as I pick raspberries.  they fill the rows of canes with their steady hum as they buzz throughout the blossoms.  Reminding my of W.B. Yeats’ poem, The Lake Isle of Innisfree:

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:

Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

The imagery that this poem invokes is utterly romantic in form.  While I don’t live in a bee-loud glade, bees are a constant here.  I wouldn’t know what to do without them around all the time.

honeybee on a rasp

Hanging in there for dinner

I have a very pleasant relationship with bees, absolutely adore them, and probably like them way more than most people do.  I think the bees know it as well. I can thrust  my hands into the canes to pick, bumping up to bees and not having to worry about being stung. Sure, I have been stung, but that was when I rested my hand on a bee.  And the poor dear did not make it out alive.

Glutton resized for Picassa

Gluttonous honeybee on a raspberry flower.

Bumble bees and those beautiful, black, bombing Carpenter bees don’t die if they sting you (love that alliteration) and I have the experience to back that up.  Who knew you shouldn’t pick up Carpenter bee females from possibly drowning in the pool.  It would have been fine had I not used my bare hand.

But I respect bees, and they respect me.  I am forever rescuing honeybees that are half drowned by my watering.  And I hate to see the older girls slowly fade away as they are dying, until one morning you find the still form of one in the dewy grass.  One who will never move again.

Bees are my friends.  A friend of my family is deathly afraid of bees.  She is allergic, I think, so stays far away from them.  It brings to mind a poem I read the other day in  Orion magazine‘s September/October issue about a woman that has an uneasy reltaionship with Shasta daisies and bees.  The bees love her daisises which are around her mailbox, and she’s allergic to bees.  You can read the poem in the picture below.

PerilloI love the line “Going to the bees’.  Actually, I just love the whole darn thing.  I’m fortunate that I don’t have to worry about bees that way.  I putter along, picking berries, brushing buzzing, fuzzy bodies, brandishing my camera when I remember to have it on hand.  I adore taking pictures of bees. I wish I could have a catalog I’ve done of every bee.  As in I want to catalog every bee with pictures and more pictures.  I adore bees.  And I like the thought of going to the bees, when I’m out picking in the hum drum sounds.

And that is itself is the buzz of it all.

Signing off

~Kate

Review – Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl

https://i0.wp.com/booksneeze.com/art/_240_360_Book.902.cover.jpg

Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl Wide-Eyed Wonder in God’s Spoken World
By N. D. Wilson, is not a fast book to read.  And honestly, I’m not even sure how to describe this book other than I love it.  The author takes a  broken down, humourous approach to what makes up this world, this world that is a spinning ball at the carnival and we are all along for the ride.  That is, if we are believing that we are all along for the ride.  I mean, we are  “on a near perfect sphere hurtling through space at around 67,000 miles per hour.  Mach 86 to pilots.  Of course, this sphere of mine is also spinning while it hurtles, so tack on an extra 1,000 miles per hour at the fat parts.”

Isn’t that great?  Isn’t it an amazing place we live on?  Where everthing is an adventure and an amazing example of a God who was so creative to give us all of this even if “God never seems capable of moderation or of understanding the basic concepts behind supply and demand.”  No, seriously, there is a section on that as well.  (Have you ever tried to count snowflakes?)

This book is not one to take in large doses over a short period of time.  Read a part of a chapter, then wait a few days.  If you can’t read just part, only read one.  Read it in seasons, for the book is seasonal, starting off in winter.  Take it in small doses where you think. I mean really think.  Part philosophy, part humor, this book gets down to the nitty gritty of life.  N.D. Wilson even calculates your odds of just being here.  By the way, be thankful you are.  There are 8 million sperm out there that could have been you but didn’t make it.  No, really, that is an example that made me bust up laughing.

I highly recommend this book if you want something that makes you think and ponder God’s greatness, without the usual ‘Christian’ dogma or preaching.  It’s fun.  It’s not light though.  Because you really do think.

Signing off

~Kate

Wordless Wednesday – Black & Tan

Mike's Black & TanOur friend, Mike, makes his own homemade beer, and his newest one this summer was actually two beers that when layered, created this marvelous drink.  We all call it a black and tan, and as you drink, the two beers stay layered all the way to the bottom.  Rich chocolatey beer on top, light, hoppy beer on the bottom.  Marvelous on a summer’s day.

Signing off

~Kate

A Day of Remembering

© Aristide Economopoulos/The Star-Ledger

From Bing’s Homepage today:

Empty Sky is a memorial for the residents of New Jersey who died during the attacks on September 11, 2001. The two-walled structure is engraved with the names of all 746 New Jerseyites who were lost that day. The walls line up with the Manhattan skyline to direct the viewer’s gaze across the Hudson River to the place where the Twin Towers once stood.

 

 

For those we lost, and those who remain.

 

Signing off

~Kate

Postage Notes

Postage Notes

I wish I could send you tiny letters
A postage stamp would fit the whole side
Your address only parts of laughter
Words small enough to need a telescope
I’d send them to carry around in a pocket
In your billfold clamped to a twenty
Something you’d find hiding
When you did your laundry
You’d pull it out and remember the words
Words too tiny to say out loud
Thoughts so small you’d need pages more
Words I’d keep hidden deep inside
Until my postage notes shared them

-Katie Lyn Branson

I wrote this for Mrs. Austen and S, a couple weeks ago.  My first thought was for Mrs. Austen, but then I thought about how important S is to me and he needs a copy as well.  So I copied it up for him with my fountain pen and send it off. Poetry is special to me, and I like sharing it with people that are important to me, even if they don’t get the juste of the poem.  Open poetry, free form poetry, is more abstract and not always understood.  So if friends don’t get it, that’s okay.  I just want them to know that it’s my way of telling them how important they are to me.

Signing off

~Kate

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