A week in the life . . .

I was together enough to write a WeekendCoffeeShare post, this week, for my Stray Coffee Breaks blog, but still have to write a haiku for RonovanWrites.

Playing a little bit of catch-up, having been sidetracked on household chores. My online photography workshop began on Monday (a 6-week course), and I am trying to decide how to approach the material and assignments. In the meanwhile, I also am sorting through fifteen years of photo archives, looking for examples of work that…I am pulling some of it from my Facebook download and using my JPGMag account as a quick index for locating other pieces.

In the meanwhile, these are a few of the photographs that I’ve taken since my last post.

I think that I will eat a sandwich, and then settle in to put together a post to the interactive closed workshop group. Such fun! (I imagine that I am the oldest person in the class, but still am waiting for the rest to post.

In other news, I learned that Al’s last aunt, Patricia, died in the middle of the night. Pat and her late husband, children, and grandchildren are centered in the Twin Cities and the Chicago area. I believe that one of Al’s sisters will be in the vicinity and able to attend the funeral, assuming that they can make arrangements for the coming weekend. With the respiratory problems and allergy season, it’s a given that I cannot make the trek south. I need a good, hard frost or two before the pollens are gone until spring.

I have not yet gotten through the first (17-page) course outline and discussion, so I am going to have an interesting night.

Best wishes for your week!
Lizl

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Flower Flies

Hoverflies, sometimes called flower flies or syrphid flies, make up the insect family Syrphidae.

Photos from Saturday:

A few photographs of Sunday’s photographs:

The smoke in the air from the wildfires has abated for the time being, and I think that the rains, last night, helped a little with the pollen. I have enjoyed getting outside with my camera. I am not certain that I will be exercising in the gazebo, today, however.

A week from tomorrow, the Photography workshop that I signed up for should begin. I am looking forward to that.

There was a thunderstorm in the middle of the night, which woke me. And so, I slept in until quite late. After eight o’clock, I think. As a result, the day has sped away. I am pleased that I took care of the laundry and household chores. Why are there always dirty dishes in the sink? On our next outing for groceries, we must also get some paper plates.

Best wishes for your day and week!

Tempted to Silence (Reblogged)

Rereading the poetry that I wrote during NaPoWriMo (April 2018), and came across “Tempted to Silence.” Called to mind a recent email from a friend, which, come to think of it, I should not remark on further.

Except to say that the friend wondered how (or why) I remain motivated. And I wondered, “how not?”

Now that I have reblogged it, I realize that I should simply have copied it here.

Tempted to Silence

as the years move on
as I move with them
or we go separate ways

I have less to say
there is less to hear
around me that inspires…

I don’t know what I miss—
words of kindness, uplifting
without self-serving thoughts

a different world, perhaps,
outside the door…with hope
for more than me and mine and yours

If I were alone, again
if there were no one to care
if I were there or here

I would take a lease
on a cabin in the woods
for enough years to die

listening to rain and bird calls
wind and ice and hearth fire
pencil scratching paper

the opening of a door

Copyright © 2018-04-18, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.

Quilted Poetry

Brewer: For today’s prompt, write a temptation poem. Nearly everyone is tempted by something: fame, glory, money, chocolate. Today is the perfect day to give in to the temptation to write about your (or “a friend’s”) temptation. Also, I totally understand the temptation to write about The Temptations today.

Tempted to Silence

as the years move on
as I move with them
or we go separate ways

I have less to say
there is less to hear
around me that inspires…

I don’t know what I miss—
words of kindness, uplifting
without self-serving thoughts

a different world, perhaps,
outside the door…with hope
for more than me and mine and yours

If I were alone, again
if there were no one to care
if I were there or here

I would take a lease
on a cabin in the woods
for enough years to die

listening to rain and bird calls

View original post 31 more words

To Mom, from Dad

The year is 1943, Mom is in the Navy and Dad, in the Army. Dad is writing about the hypothetical house he and Mom will live in some day.

There will certainly be an open air porch of some kind in our house so we can watch and wonder at the stars at night. You seem so close to God when you are out under the stars. It gives you a funny feeling, a hollow feeling in your stomach, sometimes when you look at the stars and realize how small you are and how large the universe is. But someday man will discover all the secrets of the universe, but I hope not, I don’t know why I say that. But I hope he doesn’t.

And from another letter…

It started to rain this afternoon and it’s still raining at 9 PM this evening in a dispirited, disinterested sort of way. The aimless monotonous drizzle that reminds me of Minnesota’s mid-April when spring is a vague hope and winter is on the way out.

It’s the kind of a night you’d like to be with your favorite girl, her in your arms listening to the rain and the song of the wind in the trees. The nicest thing to be said for a night like this is that it puts you into the mood to imagine yourself someplace else, and when the morning comes, the weather has cleared. So weather like this isn’t so bad after all if you have any imagination.

Mother’s blog is here: Rhoda’s Web Site: Quilts, Genealogy, and Family.

Fooling Around With Flowers | #RonovanWrites #Haiku

Written for the weekly Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge #214: Lack & Fool.

fooling around with
nature’s floral color schemes
mixing them about

recreating my garden
for lack of coloring books

Copyright © Elizabeth W. Bennefeld, 15 August 2018.

Morning Photos | Saturday, 11 August 2018

This morning, I decided to water the back garden before the sun gets high and the temperature, hot. These photos were taken in the south-facing side garden. As usual, the Scampers barked and tried to get through the gate (or, at least, get to what I was trying to photograph).

puppy, trying to get through the fencing to eat a tiny coreopsis flower
Eek! Scamper Attack!

I’ve been having so much fun, I’ve forgotten to eat, which is not a good thing. We still have smoky haze, and it looks as though the temperature will be in the low 90s F. Once again, the five top cities for pollen count, according to Pollen (dot) com, are in North and South Dakota. That’s me, folks! Whoopy!

Imagine I’m going to entertain myself again today by practicing arpeggios instead of pedaling my exercise bike, which is in the backyard gazebo.

Insects and Flowers, 4 & 5 August 2018

Cabbage Butterfly

The weather was stormy, earlier in the week, with small clusters or lines of thunderstorms and rainclouds. This is the time of the year when the wildflowers die off in my garden. There are lots of seed pods on the blue wild flax stems. I do not know about the coreopsis, other than a few have appeared that might be from the second sowing of seeds, a few weeks back.

In the side garden, I’ve got mostly weeds, but a couple of Baby Breath plants have flowered, and also a Plains Coreopsis. Waiting to see if anything else appears from those seeds. They are supposed to be drought tolerant, once they germinate. Below are a few photos from my last outing with the Scampers, this evening.

I expect that ragweed season will soon begin, if it hasn’t already. I’ve just changed the filter in the air cleaner in my room, after Al gave it a good cleaning out. Hoping that if I stay inside on the breezy days and exercise in the gazebo (glass all around and equipped with a fan to maintain the direction of the air flow), my breathing will loosen up, again.

Hate giving up the out-of-doors for any reason, for any length of time, however short.

New Day, New Flowers

 

dawn’s deep shadows
lighten as breezes flow
clouds fade away

the dogs have overslept and
now the rabbit takes his nap

Copyright © 2018-07-29, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.

I expect to be in the back yard, again, this second day of the Air Show, waiting for the Blue Angels to fly overhead. During their rehearsal on Friday, they came right over the house. The joys of living in an airport’s flight path. The rattling windows!

And the skies cleared…

The sky was cloudy, and there was a mist of rain carried by gusty winds, until into the early afternoon.  Then the winds died down and the sky cleared. Throughout the afternoon, I listened to the sounds of the airplanes going past as pilots timed and rehearsed their acts for the air show, this weekend. Too many mosquitoes, today, for me to sit outside and watch for the jets speeding past. They’ve another day for practicing, and so I might get out there tomorrow. Or wait for the shows on the weekend days. Normally we (our house) are close to the flight paths, so we have good views. (I dug out the weather-spotting binoculars, a few weeks ago.)

These photographs were taken just before the Scampers’ five o’clock dinner. I (unfortunately) frightened the resident rabbit away from the side garden (which has not managed to produce flowers, this summer).  Thadd only took notice as the rabbit’s hind feet disappearing around the corner of the neighbor’s garage. After the dogs ate, we went outside, again, and I managed three and a half miles on the exercise bike in the gazebo. Far short of yesterday’s sixteen miles; perhaps I will have opportunity after the Scampers are in their kennels for the night.

yellows and oranges
rays of the sun soon to set
backlit petals glow

next after last, days go by
their glow passes…petals drop

Copyright © 2018-07-26, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.