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Friday, 23 June 2017

An Odd Duck

 LORD LOVE A DUCK

An exclamation indicating disbelief and stunned acceptance of the facts.
origin unknown
but the first recorded use in literature is found in "The Wheel of Fortune" by Louis Tracy.


ODD DUCK

No one appears to know how or why or when the expression "he (or she) is an 'odd duck"' originated.   Poor duck, being picked on to represent someone who deviates from the norm in appearance, behaviour or beliefs.

DUCK OUT

I'm just going to 'duck out' of the meeting early.  Originally the term was just, 'duck' with 'out' being added later.  Why?  To give the duck a little class?  Who knows.  The expression came to life in the 1800's.  No one knows why.  Ask a duck.


That's my 'fun with ducks' for the day.  Got any more duck sayings or expressions?  

Thursday, 22 June 2017

Don't Fence Me In

I've been thinking about fences a lot lately.  Ever since our neighbour put a fence up between us where none had existed for the past 31 years that we've lived here.  These folks have been here about four years now...long enough for them to decide that we're Mexico I guess.  We've never set foot on their property and the most intrusive we've been is a friendly wave.  Our yard is neat and tidy so there is nothing warranting screening.  I guess they just like fences.  They put one up on the other side of their property as well.  It wouldn't be quite so bad if they had finished our side of the fence but it is NOT finished and when we step out our side door it looks like the inside of a wooden berry box.  (I hope I'm not the only one old enough to remember those.)  
The back yard is totally enclosed in a mish mosh of fencing put up by various neighbours on either side and behind..there are actually three houses behind us (which tells you how big our yard is).  The back line is also screened by a number of tall cedars.  I know why the folks to the east of us put up a fence...they had dogs as do the people behind us....but again, our neighbour to the west, they of the 'love of fences' have no real reason to fence it off...just an antisocial attitude.  They also have a gazebo in back with black out curtains hanging all around it.  We sit on our deck out back with no protection from neighbours glances and frankly, we seldom look over at any of them.  We just sit and talk, read, knit, look at our gardens and mind our own business.  
Now the folks across the road from us have put up a mile long run of fencing across the back of their property and along one side between them and their neighbours to the west.  Everywhere you look, fences.  High fences, low fences, wood fences, metal fences.....all over the place....fences.  Is it just me or are people starting to withdraw into themselves and this is just the outward sign of it?  
It is not a nice feeling to live all trapped inside these fences.  If I was younger and healthier I would head for the hills and live in the country with just a wire farm fence to keep roaming cattle out.  Or maybe I would just let the cows come through and eat the grass.  It's a dream of mine....these fences, they're a nightmare.

Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Using Wednesdays Words

Words for Wednesday is a weekly writing prompt designed to get our creative juices flowing.  The prompt can be a list of words, a phrase, a picture or even a piece of music.  This week the prompt is photographic and can be found on Elephant’s Child's blog.  (You can find her in my sidebar.)






Abandoned

There is a tree growing
in the gutter
where once rain
danced and gurgled
on its way to the downspout.
My roof has a sway
like the back
of a saddle sore old nag
and the raccoons have
ripped pieces of it away.
They are now nesting
with the mice and the squirrels
in my attic.
I remember
like it was yesterday
(perhaps it was yesterday, in house years)
the sound of children's laughter,
the playful antics
of a kitten in the yard,
a lush and blooming garden
where now weeds are the only crop
in a dank and sour soil.
Only yesterday,
I’m sure of it…
I looked through
lace covered window panes
into a well manicured lawn.

Only yesterday.
Now I dream in  the sunlight,
shiver in the winter cold
and live in my dreams
when once I was called
the sweetest name
in the human language…
home.

Tuesday, 20 June 2017

A Rather Crude Saying

"Ah my dear, he's just blowing smoke up your arse."   Ick.   Of course, this refers to an insincere compliment.  A possible origin for this dates to the late 1700's when it was a common practise for doctors to try to resuscitate a drowning victim by ... you guess it .... blowing smoke, yes, there.  Along waterways the equipment for such a procedure was hung at regular intervals and emergency workers were required to know the locations just as now they are required to know the location of the 'defib'.  What I would like to know is who the genius was who decided it would be a helpful thing to do.  Where DO these ideas come from?
Anyway, pretty useless treatment, and insincere compliments are pretty useless as well.  

Monday, 19 June 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday was started by Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border.  You can find her in my sidebar.  Why not join in….read, write, critique, share your thoughts….we’d love for you to be part of this.

the hungry earth
drinks up the rain
and sets the trees
to bloom again
then gathers up
the fallen leaves
as farmers
gather golden sheaves
all things come
from Mother Earth
she gives to all
as they give birth
but death, in life
comes in its turn
and to the earth
all must return.

Sunday, 18 June 2017

Daddy's Home

As a youngster many wonderful things came down our long, maple lined lane.  The bread man with his basket of breads and cakes and sugared donuts, the milkman with his gleaming bottles of milk and cream, the ice man in his leather apron and carrying a huge block of ice over his back.  The Watson man would come with his little van of goodies.  Sometimes Mom would buy, most times not.  But the best thing that EVER came down our drive was a dusty blue pickup driven by a weary man at days end.  The cry would go up, 'Daddy's home' and there would be a mad scramble to greet him as he stepped out of the cab.  He was glad to be home, we were glad he was home, supper was ready and all was right with the world.....Daddy's home.
Happy Fathers Day to all the Daddies out there and to all those who 'father' regardless of gender.

Saturday, 17 June 2017

My Nose Hurts

Ever wonder where the expression, "paying through the nose" comes from?  It means, of course, paying an excessive amount for something...like groceries.  A possible source of this expression dates to the 9th century in Denmark.  Delinquent taxpayers had their noses slit.  The nose bled, we are being bled by high prices......  anyway, now my nose hurts.

Friday, 16 June 2017

Doesn't Surprise Me

Thursday we went to Sears.   Sears Canada is in trouble financially.  They are talking about lay offs and the potential for going out of business.    Gee...I wonder why.   
They did a massive 'renovation' earlier this year...same old worn out floors, one place to go for payment, and basically just a rearrangement of departments.  The women's section is a helter skelter mess of clothing racks with things jammed in.  There are endless displays of purses here there and everywhere.  One large section of shelving has odds and ends of kitchen/dining ware that looks remarkably like the thrift store.  There is no one in sight to offer assistance and when we passed the registers I heard one lady who had come from the far side of the store ask for assistance.  She was told, "there is someone on duty in that department" to which she replied "there was no one there".  Miss Snippy at the counter told her, "There certainly is someone there, she was just busy for the moment."  At that point I would have just dropped the item in my hand and walked out never to return.  The customer, bless her, walked all the way back to the department in question to resume her search.
Sears needs to rethink their highly priced selection of merchandise, hire more people (not fire them) and train them properly in customer service and product.  I had it in mind to pick up a few things but I walked out.  I'll get them somewhere where the customer is appreciated.  Good luck Sears, you're going to need it.

Thursday, 15 June 2017

Cat Got Your Tongue?

Cat got your tongue? is usually applied to a person who appears to be at a loss for words.  There are two possible sources of this saying.  One refers back to the English navy and the habit of whipping miscreants with a cat o' nine tails.  Apparently the pain was so bad it rendered the victims speechless.  The other possible source is an ancient habit of cutting out the tongues of liars and feeding them to cats.  I don't think I'm ever going to use that expression again.   Just the thought of it makes me want to gag.

Wednesday, 14 June 2017

Using Wednesday's Words

This weeks word prompt can be found at Elephant's Child.  You can find her in my sidebar.  Instead of a list of words this week we have two phrases:
"hold on to your hat"
and/or
"a penny for your thoughts".

Here we go:

When I started out today
the wind had not come out to play,
but,
by the time that I came back
the wind was strong and at my back.
A kind policeman 
told me that
I must hold on
to my hat.
He said, "It's a windy day
and sometimes wind
just likes to play."
And so, I held on
to my hat
and shared the helpful message that
on windy days it's wise
to HOLD ON TO YOUR HAT.

That was fun.




Tuesday, 13 June 2017

The Bee's Knees

The Bee's Knees.....DO bees have knees?  Yes they do.   This expression became popular during the 'flapper' era and indicated excellence.   That show was the 'bee's knees', as an example.   The saying makes absolutely no sense as a bees knees are nothing to write home about and are even hairy.

Monday, 12 June 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday is brought to us by Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border.  You can find her in my sidebar.  She thought Monday needed jazzing up.  She was right.
Why not join in.  Read, write, critique, offer your thoughts....poetry doesn't have to rhyme you know, it just has to say what you are thinking.
Here goes for this Monday:


In and out,
back and forth.
Yell and shout
and slam the door.
I need this
and I need that.
Forever reminded
to wear a hat.
Can we go here?
Can we go there?
I've found two socks
but they're not a pair.
15 stuffies in a bag.
Packed myself is the brag.
Forgot about my underwear
and the other stuff I need to wear.
I need to see my mommy now
to see how she is doing.
Then can we come back here
to do what I was doing.
Come and play with me.
I've got a game.
You'll like it,
wait and see.
You throw the ball
way down the hall
Then run and throw it back,
then run and.......
Grandma?
Are you listening?
Grandma....why are your eyes closed?
Grandma.....
GRANDMA!

Sunday, 11 June 2017

Ahhhhh

It's Sunday and the house is ours again.....ahhhhhhh.  Peace and quiet.  The house is a complete disaster from one end to the other but I have all the laundry caught up.  With any luck I'll have it clean enough that the nice lady who cleans for me every other week can find her way clear to clean it.
The wee man is back with his momma...I think he realises now that grandma and grandpa aren't all that much fun to live with lol.

Thursday, 8 June 2017

I'd Forgotten

Yrs, I'd forgotten what it's like to have a little kid in the house.  A little kid who talks non stop and eats like a  horse.  A little kid who wants to help with everything and is forever under your feet.  Our wee man is ten chronologically but in actuality he is really only about four or five.  He still carts his stuffed animals everywhere and is unpredictable in his reactions.  We are still working on table manners and tooth brushing and all manner of things that a ten year old handles with grace and aplomb.  When bed time came around and he'd been showered and hair washed and pajama'd we found out how much of a 'little guy' he really is.  We called the momma so he could say goodnight and then began the painful process of getting him to stay in the bed.  He must have been up and down a dozen or more times.  I finally had to get quite stern about it.  That held until around 3:30am and then he piled into bed with us.  Little kid elbows and knees are sharp and bony  in case you didn't already know.  Something else I had forgotten.  Anyway, this morning, after a 'loggers breakfast' we got him off to school.  Phew  A free day now until it's time to pick him up.  The momma has her hands full with this one.

.....and just a note to JoeH.....I tried that control z thing and it worked beautdifully....thanks again

Wednesday, 7 June 2017

Take a Minute and Vote

Our good friend Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border (you can find her in my sidebar) has been nominnated for an award for the cover of her latest book.   Drop in to her blog and read what she has to say about it .  http://indtale.com/polls/creme-de-la-cover-contest...and go to the link provided here to vote for her cover.  It only takes a minurte and you'll make Diane very very happy indeed.

Using Wednesday's Words

Words for Wednesday is a writing prompt designed to kick start our imaginations and get us writing whether it be fiction or fact, prose or poetry or simply stream of consciousness.  This weeks words are provided by Elephants Child.  You can find her in my sidebar.
This weeks words are:
feverish, pencil, fabricated, typewriter, mix, sensible
and/or
penalty, caution, senility, lie, patched, trees.

Here goes:

Dementia, senility…call it what you would, it was a thief that stole the very essence of a person.  Darren had watched it take his grandfather and his father from him.  Now he, himself, had been handed the dreaded diagnosis and would pay the penalty of the loss of himself.  Every generation had been affected at a younger age than the previous.  “What of his two boys?”, he  wondered.
With feverish determination he hunched over his typewriter (he had long since forgotten all his on line passwords and besides the computer frightened him) as he fabricated line by painful line what he hoped was a sensible missive to the Provincial Health Regulators outlining the seriousness of the disabling condition and appealing for more research.
He had rewritten his letter so many times he was afraid to think of how many trees had to die just to provide him with paper.  Patching the sheets of paper together with tape he stopped suddenly and shook his head.  What was doing, again?  He turned once more to the typewriter and stared at it, puzzled.   Sighing, he reached for a pencil.  He could still remember how to write, couldn’t he?  He hoped that wasn’t a lie he was telling himself.
Gathering up his papers he approached the stranger in his kitchen with caution.
“Excuse me,  miss?  Could you please look at this and tell me if it makes sense?”
Edith blinked back tears as she took the crumpled pages of rambling gobbled gook and smiled tremulously at her husband.

“You’ve been working so hard on this.  Wouldn’t you like to have a cup of tea and something to eat?”


My apologies, I just couldn't mix in the word 'mix'.

Tuesday, 6 June 2017

A Fun Filled Week Ahead

Wednesday evening we pick the wee man up at his house and bring him home with us until Sunday afternoon.  The 'mamma' is having her gall bladder out.  We thought maybe she could use a break for a few days.  Miss Gracie will still be at home but her daddy can look after her and get her off to school.  WE are going to have fun.  The wee man has expressed a desire to cook.   He can count on it.  We'll bake muffins and cookies and make soup...all kinds of good stuff.  Grandma and Grandpa are looking forward to it.  My appearance here may be sporadic at best until the next Poetry Monday.

Monday, 5 June 2017

Poetry Monday

Poetry Monday comes to us from Diane ‘On The Alberta Montana Border’.  You can find her in my sidebar.  Why not join us?  Write, read critique or share your thoughts….it’s easy, it’s fun…what  could go wrong, right?  Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme or have a rhythm  as you will see by the following.  It doesn’t have to please anyone but yourself.

Here goes:

She used to dance
with the radio tuned
to country music,
in her apron,
all around the kitchen
tending to
dinners
and cookies
homemade bread,
caring for her windowsill plants,
keeping things gleaming.
                                                     She used to dance.
Now,
the apron hangs limp and lonely on a hook.
He shuffles around the kitchen
making tea
and peanut butter sandwiches.
The plants are dead.
He leaves them there
and casts a wistful glance
at her apron
in which she used to dance.
The radio is silent.
He trudges off to bed
alone.
Downstairs,
in the kitchen,
the shadows flit
as the moon peeks in,
and,
in the light breeze from the window,
the apron twirls on its hook
as it did when she danced.
In his lonely bed
he sighs and mutters.
She comes to him at last
and takes him in her arms.
They dance
into the moonlight and beyond the stars.

Saturday, 3 June 2017

Wool Eyes and Wool Balls

I've been knitting and doing laundry this morning.  150 stitches on the pins.  My limit is three rows before I get 'wool eyes'.  Of course I don't stop at three rows.  Did you really need to ask?  Downstairs the laundry calls and so, with 'wool eyes', I stumble down the steps and start pulling items out of the dryer.  The wool balls always try to escape.   They bounce out and roll away.  Sometimes behind the baskets, or the machines, and sometimes even into the next room.  It's hard to find your wool balls when you have 'wool eyes'.
The hubs offers to help by taking things out of the dryer for me but he is 75% blind and the wool balls know it.  They take advantage of his weakness.  Sneaky little devils.

Thursday, 1 June 2017

STOP

It's Thursday already.  The week has taken off like a runaway train.  Somebody stop this thing.  I want to get off and draw a breath.