Made a great discovery this afternoon (please note that I said afternoon. My afternoon.)

I found out that there are people who I just don't like.

And some folks who I do like.

That was an important discovery.

Like crossing the Rubicon of personal relationships.

I used to dither. I use to dather about this person or that but now?

Not so much.

And even more important?

I've learned something nifty neat.

I don't have to speak to them if I don't want to.

I just smile sweetly and whisper something like,

"I'm resting my voice."

WB actually answered the phone and told the person who asked, "May I please talk to WB?"

"No you may not."

That's what he told them.

It was brilliant in it's honesty and simple construction.

I've added to this the phrase, " I'm not talking because I'm saving my voice." 

That discovery was wonderful.

Can't wait to try it out.

Know the perfect time.

If you know me keep watching.

I won't lose my voice if I don't speak.

Instead?

I'll increase it's power when I do.

LOL

This is good.

.

Wonder what I'll learn this evening?



Man looks intense. Here's an idea. Just listen to the music. LOL.

(I'm sober. Imagine things drunk.)

Or maybe not.

.

:D

.

.







Dear Person Who's On a Macintosh Reading My Blog,

Why?

I just write this blog.

I don't read it.

Well - maybe-  sometimes - but not much.

Not like the old blog.

Now there? You could actually find writing that would entertain.

This one is more like upchucking or verbal diarrhea.

Not like the old blog.

There?

Was Haiku.
Was free verse.
Actually short stories that I actually worked on.

There if I got really bored I'd write odes to the "hemmorhoids" in my life.

Here?

Meh.

But  if you could actually comment?  I could be talked into writing something other than the word, "actually" in a semi literate sentence.

Here's an idea.

A challenge for us both.

I'll write one verse of a real life actual poem for every comment you post.

It's a bargain.

You type in something like "a;lslgue"

And I'll type in
-

uhm -

"...John has eyes.
    Not like limped pools.
    Not like jade or cinnamon or the blue skies of a June day.
    These eyes are small.
    The color of
    Sad.
    And they change colors like a mood ring.
    You do know what that is?  A Mood Ring? ...."

I know. It's free verse so I'm cheating a bit.  I don't think that Iambic pentameter has come from this cerebral cortex in a while. But if I look around and find that a sonnet might be better than a snore?
If there was some reason to fire off a synapse or two?
I can wake up long enough to say or write something.

So?

Who are you behind that Macintosh?


(I'll have to make sure but I don't think that anyone has actually commented on this blog. The did on the other one but not this one.)

.

.








Okie dokie.

One more time.

This is 12dots and a blot

It's a writer's journal.

Fact and fiction co exist here.

For instance,

Fact? I'm a big fan of the men and women who risk their lives to make sure ours are safe. That would be policemen, firemen, Army, Navy, Airforce, Marines, Coast Guard, ...  you get the idea.

Fiction? Well there's poetry. And I used to write actual short stories.

:D

Anyway if you don't know which is the fact and which is the fiction. Please.

I'm really asking you.

Don't assume.

Ask.

Thanks.




The answer?

"Because I like to listen to it."



.

Today started off pretty good and still is. 

.

.

One more and then I am going to sleep.



Milli Vanilli :D

"...been to the desert on a horse with no name it felt good to get out of the rain..."

Sons and Daughters of Panarchy  v.2


Unicorn pandemic and tales of panarchy?
Flame throwing tanks and nekkid peace nicks?
All ending up around the pheonix fire?
Tales of paying forward and random kindness.
While economic disaster howls at the door.
Peace nicks clutch tickets that cost more -
More than rent.
More than a weeks groceries.
More wear and tear and cost of fuel to get there only to find that the only cars allowed are in the art work.
All on a piece of land with the same name as a security contractor in Iraq.

Imagine that.

Burning Man.

c anne ford  9-13-11,  from Sons and Daughters of Panarchy. A Collection of  Stories and Poems the New Millenium

,


.





I fell asleep. Again. 2soon.

Moonlight. Sunbright. It fills the room.

Sunsilly. Sunny Billy. Fills the gloom.

I run.
I just.
I run.
I bloom.
Knee deep in slumber.
In this room.

c anne ford 9/13/11




.

Si iff ti bed my dear sweet one.
Smile a smile.
No be so glum.
The star horsers swim in the moonlights reflection
A pale recollection of our own  dear  Sun.

Tommy horses winny.
Impatient for sleep.
Sea stars shimmy.
In the milky way deep.

I love you.
I love you.
One million times penny.

I love you til stars
There's not a one. Any.

Close please your eyes.
Until the morn comes.
Then it's up and a ridin
With morning Sun.

Good night, I love you. Sleep tight. Little one.

c anne ford
from Sleepy Sleep Hey O
9-13-11

Now I'm off to sleep as well.

Hugs.

Ann
.

.

okay.
back to sleep.
nothing to see here

back to sleep and slumber.

.
.
.

snap

.

"...The next day the Sun shone bright.

Brighter than the day before

The birds sang and the morning sky was blue.

How could they be so mean.

Didn't the Sun know that the world had stopped.

Birds.

Hold still your voice.

There is a shadow on my feet.

A hole in my heart.

Dark cataracts cover my eyes.

I tear my hair and throw myself to the ground.

Cover my ears to the sounds of life.

How can you sing

when my heart lies in the ground with the ones I love."

c anne ford

9-12-11

The thing that you learn when someone you love dies is that the world keeps on turning.

People will laugh.

The Sun will shine.

The sky will be in turns sunny and gray,

It's life.

And though you might not think so?

You do laugh.

It sneaks up on you.

It comes from somewhere that didn't disappear.

Like good friend it sits with you thought the tears and anger and the frustration.

When you yell , "Why?"

It whispers, "I don't know."

When you can't sleep, it tells you stories.

When you don't eat, it says, "Just a bite, please."

And on that day when you lay there covered in dispare and you say, "I can't."

It gently says,

"Yes, you can."

Then one day  you forget a little and the sun shines on your face and somewhere you begin to notice that the world is full of laughter.

Other folks are hurting too..."

.And you get up.

Older.

Wiser.

You can see the pain in the world and you stop looking inward.

And you ask,

"How can I help."

.

Yesterday?

We turned off the television.

It wasn't because we wanted to forget.

It was because.

The thing is.

In our heart?

Love?

Is the only antidote for the sadness of this world.

A little candle.

Sometimes it flickers in the darkness.

But it's still there for someone to see.

Just in case someone needs a hand.


So we turned off the tv.

And we went to get some ice cream.

Trying hard to block out the world of sad memories.

But life happens.

As it will.

Yesterday, I stopped trying to block out the Sun and the rain.

Yesterday, I entered the river and did my best to help.

.


"... How can the world still spin.

How can the birds still sing.

Did God forget me?

No.

He taught me so that when a child cried.

When a father cried.

I could be there to help.


.

Thank you to the fire fighters, the police, the paramedics, and the kind souls who can see beyond their own lives to see and help others.

How lucky we are that you are in this world.

I didn't forget you yesterday.

I won't forget you today.

.

People are living because of what you do.


For all the anger that we see in this world?


Because of your brave kindness?

I know.



"Love's the only house big enough for all the pain in the world."


Hugs.



.

.I have great admiration for the very brave men and women who show up everyday to help others.

I can't do what you do/

I don't know how.

But I thank the good Lord above that you know how.

You are really and truly amazing.

Thank you.

.



.

Please be advised this song is not for the weak of heart or anyone under 21

insert the song

Evil Scotsman here

.The one by Rockin Jock

.

:D

(I'd insert the actual Youtube but if my dad were to come here and see it. Whoo boy. Better not)

.Besides. I'm actually a very nice person.

And I don't nor never have had a "third leg".

.

.

.



Happy birthday Freddy Mercury.


,.

I know that it might seem a blantant plea for relationship advice but actually it's alittle different.

It's a happy birthday wish to Freddy Mercury.

And

It's also a kind wish to some folks who are helping kids find a home and showing them a bit of the world at the same time.

Hugs a kid.

Even better if you can?

Give them a home.

Cause everybody can use a place to be.

Hugs ya'll

Power has been out once already, wind is picking up, and I'm told that it's supposed to get worse between now and Thursday.


Hope your day is NOT bad.


Ann

PS And I guess I wouldn't mind having  a place to be too.


.



\


.


My Brother The Deer Hunting Enviromentalist.

by Author Ann


My brother has been shooting at animals since he was 11 and skinning fish since he was 4.

His house? It looks like a natural history museum for deer parts.

He tells folks that he only shoots for for the table. Even donates deer meet to folks down on their luck.


This hunting for necessity doesn't explain the two huge bear pelts from an organized bear hunt.

His oldest child is the same.


Talks about hunting all the time. Goes all over on hunts with his dad.


Someone even wanted to pay for them to go on a safari to Africa.

Together they father and child bond while looking for signs of horney deer.


And people here say, "What a wonderful thing!" 

(They're talking about bonding over hunting and shooting animals.)

Have you ever looked at a life white tail in the eyes?

I have.

Then there's his youngest child.

This child is amazing.

He told his dad that he didn't want to hunt. Wasn't his thing his little kid voice said.

But they pestered until one day

He went with them to deer hunt and he shot a 10 point.

First and only deer hunt he ever went on.

First and only deer he ever shot.

That deer was a beast. Huge.


The oldest couldn't believe the younger's luck.

But the youngest said, " That's enough and maybe even too much for me.."

Afterwards he told them that would be the end of hunting for him. He'd rather ride is dirt bike.

To my knowledge? He's never gone back.



If you talk to my brother, he'll tell you all about how he cares for those deer who's heads are on his wall. He'll tell you that he takes care of the environment and how shooting those deer are important to the "circle of life". He'll tell you about how Bambi is some character in a kids movie.

But if you ask his youngest? He'll tell you that Bambi is a metaphor for all living things and how we should care for them by being kind.

.

Dogs barking. We're told that we have coyote problem. We're also told that we have a mountain lion problem.

I'm told that if  that mountain lion attacks my dogs and I shoot it? I can get arrested for harming a protected species.

I'm also told that if I shoot a coyote that's attacking my dogs?, I'm fine to do so because it's considered a danger to my pets..

Me? I'm just hoping that we all survive.

This is one crazy world.

.

.



.

.





"...been to the desert on a horse with no name it felt good to get out of the rain..."

Sons and Daughters of Panarchy

Unicorn pandemic and tales of panarchy?
Flame throwing tanks and nekkid peace nicks?
All ending up around a pheonix fire?
Tales of paying forward and random kindness.
All for tickets that cost more -
More than rent.
More than a weeks groceries.
More wear and tear and cost of fuel to get there only to find that the only cars allowed are in the art work.
All on a piece of land with the same name as a security contractor in Iraq.

c anne ford  8-29-11,  from Sons and Daughters of Panarchy. A Collection of  Stories and Poems the New Millenium



It's the first night of Burning Man,

No, I'm not there. This was written at home.

I'm actually at home reading about how the Food Bank is planning for the increased need for their services.  I read that Burning Man has been a for profit festival that charged from 200 to 300 dollars a ticket to get in. Once in you are asked to "pay it forward" by being helpful to one another.  While I'm reading this I'm thinking how with one dollar Food Bank can buy groceries. Imagine what they could do with the price of a ticket and the cost of fuel to get there and how folks are flying in airplanes and then taking the pledge not to use fossil fuels while there. I'm reading that people attending Burning Man are asked to do acts of kindness. Then I read that theres been a 30 percent increase this year in the number of people using Food Bank.

I think about the folks who lost everything in last spring's tornado and how Food Bank helped.

And how politicos and capitalist flew private jets to a conference about solving environmental crisis world wide.

Decided to have my own party in my heart. Cost of a ticket?  A hug.



.

Hugs and kisses,

Auntie Slacker ...

.



.

.

.





Hugs, Got stuff to do.

New Yorkers?




Give them a hurricane and they'll make it a party.


Ya' gotta love 'em.


.
.

,

I read the Vogue for the articles.

I really do.

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, "I don't care what you read and what tha heck does that video have to do with reading Vogue?"  Then you delete and perhaps delist me on Twitter.. As you're doing so you may  also   be thinking that I read Vogue like you might read Playboy."

To you I say?

"Nothing"

The video has absolutely nothing to do with reading Vogue other than I got side tracked AND I couldn't find a good copy of  Angel is a Centerfold by J Geils Band.  I could, however, find a perfectly excellent video of The Three Stooges' dancing to Whammer Jammer. I thought that it was actually a song about the Crimson Tide (Univ of Alabama)'s foot ball cheer. It was not but  the J Girls Band did record  both the Angel IS a Centerfold and Wammer Jammer so I posted it.

Hope you don't have power loss.

Any typos are due to I haven't gone to sleep and I'm too tired to bother with it.

Going to sleep now.

Hugs,

Author Ann


.


.

.

Sigh.



To note. This isn't a slam against folks who've actually been through a big storm.

To them?

Hugs.

Having been through one (lol several including a catagory 5?  I get that it's a scary thing.


And remember.

If you ever are in the path of one of a storm and can't get out?

Don't forget to fill up the bathubs with water.

No, not for drinking.

For flushing.


Just saying.

Carry on and keep calm!


.



.

.

Meanwhile in NYC there are folks proving the point that NewYorkers can take just about anything but a canceled show.



Woooooooohhheeeeee.

.






Dear Irene,

I know that you have your heart set on "visiting" the Eastern Seaboard but come on wouldn't you rather take that Atlantic cruise you've always talked about?

You got me walking the floor...






Love,




.

.

.






Steve Jobs announces his retirement.

.

.

Guess who's back?


Hint. He's back from France where the nekkid laddies dance.

And?

He's got a robot sidekick named Kristen and another named Geoff Peterson.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l28JEwJb9Po


LOL

.









.


.











.


.