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Gone, but not Forgotten

There are no words.  There is no explanation.

I went with my mom on a boat to Boston

I went with my mom on a boat to Boston

To visit our friends.  It is on a big island.

To visit our friends. It is on a big island.

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Gone, But Not Forgotten.”

Someone Else’s Island

On Someone Else’s Island, 

A picture for his eyes

to rest upon, Face, tilted up

and to the left, smile meeting

the light. Dark Hair, Golden

Glowing in the sun.

A pen for his hands,

paper to hold stories

or poetry, lines

to contain thought.

A toolbox with saw

and lathe; trees to work

into useful things; practical

on deserted planes.

Seed, a seed to sow

his seeds, to grow his fruit

into dripping delicious

delight.

No company; for we know

that his best work comes

when he longs for contact,

is lost in the reality

of human shortcomings.

Photo Challenge: Glass

Sometime last week there was a photo challenge for incorporating glass into your images.  I obviously missed the boat (this is why I will never be successful at Twitter) but went scrolling through some older images looking for things taken through or with glass.  And approximately two years ago today, we went to Scotland, and we spent time at the Kelvingrove gallery.  And I saw some of my favorite pieces of glass art work ever there.  Here are my amateurish photographs of two of my favorite bits.

Glass plate, entitled "The Lovers".

Glass plate, entitled “The Lovers”.

These glasses reminded me of the ones my mother collected, and I took the picture for her. They are gorgeous, and amazing examples of hand-etched glass work.  Also, they were taken of glass, through glass, so I felt it met the challenge.

These glasses reminded me of the ones my mother collected, and I took the picture for her. They are gorgeous, and amazing examples of hand-etched glass work. Also, they were taken of glass, through glass, so I felt it met the challenge.

Angular

My life has been well over the edge of busy lately, and chances to get out with my camera are limited.  Earlier this year we visited a Tin Mine in Cornwall.  It is an exercise in angularity.

This was my first capture of the day, and it was also my favourite.  Yes, the lines of the mine, the angles of the old wood.

This was my first capture of the day, and it was also my favourite. Yes, the lines of the mine, the angles of the old wood.

Indoors, and the belts that carry the rocks everywere, go up and down at all angles.

Indoors, and the belts that carry the rocks everywhere, go up and down at all angles.

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Angular.”

The Cancer Magnet

My friends are intelligent and articulate. And, I fear, shouting into a storm.

Ali Abbas

What would you give me for a medical marvel? If I offered you a means of gathering all the cancerous cells in a body in one easily excisable place, where one swipe of a sharp knife could affect a cure, what wreaths and garlands would you lay at my feet?

It is an intriguing thought, taking that which spreads and is difficult to track, and accumulating it away from vital organs ready for surgery.

Now imagine the disease is not of the body but of society: a menace spreading lethal tendrils across borders. A disease with its roots in the virus that is Salafism, and that was incubated and nurtured in the laboratory of the Taliban and Al Qaida. The cancer magnet is ISIS.

Hundreds have left these isles already to associate themselves with brutality and evil, and hundreds more have joined them from an array of nations. Surely this is…

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Once again, you get it right.

a diary of a mom

Last night, I posted the following on Diary’s Facebook page.

A little over a year ago, my dad sent us a beautiful set of brand new dishes as a (very) early Christmas present. I was thrilled, as I’d been dying to replace the ones we had. Brooke was not as enthusiastic. In fact, she would not, could not eat green eggs and ham or anything else off of the new dishes. For over a year, she has steadfastly refused to go near them.

Tonight, without a word, she went into the cabinet and grabbed a dish. A “new” one. She de-sandwiched her ice cream sandwich on it. She brought it into the den and ate her unsandwich, as though eating off of a plate that she’s been avoiding like the plague for more than a year was the most natural thing in the world. As she brought the plate…

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Dreamy

In Aber Falls, North Wales

In Aber Falls, North Wales Dreams and fantasies