Authentic Nautical Accessories, and Custom Furnishings
There was a tinge of green, right around where gills would be if the Teahead had been a fish. But of course, the Teahead of the August Moon was a fully mammalian human, and the concoction on his face was the latest attempt to correct an unfortunate complexion that periodically oozed zits.
Most cats do not scintillate as conversationalists. Then there are the Carreras cats. They've been asked their opinion so often that by the time they reach feline adulthood, you wish that they'd shut their traps.
I have not always been a paragon of good taste, sensibilities, or behavior. Emphasize behavior, please. You could have described me as a cad, inappropriate, and always a sinner. I understood the feelings of Saint Augustine when he stated that "…it was wicked, but I loved it."
Folly has gotten a bum rap. I mean, take a look at all the advice people get about the joyful misadventures of youth, "that was just folly; you should have known better."
It's important to know when to lie low. For example, not engage in an argument. Actually, I guess it's not even an argument -if you don't listen to the other side.
Mixed precipitation in coastal New England means that the rain changes from rain to freezing rain to snow and back again. Oh, Joy!
I have a protocol for handling people with outrageous projects and complex designs. It's all cash upfront, paid design time at a high rate, and all change orders in writing. It wasn't that I was out to fleece my customers; it was to render moot speculative projects that would never go anywhere.
At a certain period of my life, I was a known peripatetic -cosmopolitan brother of the road, nomad, itinerant, and just plain unsettled. I was told by several willowy slender beauties that my inconstancy of abode was a significant issue in forming and maintaining relationships.
I have to be careful this time of year. It is neither prudent nor provident to allow myself to become fixated on one thing. Winter has a lot to do with this. January is my usual month to sit in the office, cogitate, plan, imagine, and create new fancies from whole cloth.
was preparing to take out the recycle bin when this "dead soldier" caught my eye. The bottle is an empty jug of spiced rum that powered my don't drink and then drive fruitcake. Momentarily I was transported to my early days. I took the cap off and began blowing an accompaniment to Washington at Valley Forge, a perennial favorite of 1960's jug bands.
Life in progress
Author Aspiring
Views of the natural environment & climate change
I'm Victoria Stuart, a poet committed to love's transmission.
A journey into bloggerdom
STORIES ABOUT THE MOUNTAINS, THE SEA, AND ANCIENT TRUTH
My thoughts and ideas about life, cats, and whatever else I think about
Andy and I miss Dougy
Spontaneous Connections During Tidal Times
Sono una donna libera. Nel mio blog farete un viaggio lungo e profondo nei pensieri della mente del cuore e dell anima.
food for the body; food for the soul
Handcarved Accessories For Modern Living
Mississippi life culture lifestyles inspiration
My "bump" was in 2016 when, aged 48, I suffered a stroke. This blog charts my recovery. (Header clipart licensed by pngguru.com.)
A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.
Adventures in Creative Writing by A.M. Moscoso
Rural doctor, mom, writes poems, dance, sing.
Louis N. Carreras, Woodcarver 
You must be logged in to post a comment.