Tag Archives: wordplay

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Favorites

Let’s see: I am going with two favorite writers.

My favorite female author is Laura Ingalls Wilder. My favorite male author is Walt Kelly.

Louis Carreas wrote about how descriptions can be cages, here. WordPress won’t let me comment on his blog (Hi, Lou!), saying that I have to be logged in. Even when I AM logged in. Ah well, maybe the AI has a sense of humor and is messing with me. Anyhow, his comments make me think of the DSM V, the list of behavioral health symptoms defining them into disorders, fifth version. We humans make them up, these lists. My daughter pointed out years ago, “We make up all the words.” It’s all an effort to communicate and we make it all up.

Walt Kelly is my favorite master of playing with words and word silliness. One time Howland Owl and Churchy are trying to make a bomb. They need a certain material. They have a small yew tree and a geranium. They both fall over and CROSS! Owl and Churchy dive for the floor. There is no explosion. Howland Owl says, “The natural born reason we didn’t git no yew-ranium when we crosses the li’l yew tree and the gee-ranium is on account of cause we didn’t have no geiger counter.” They decide against an A-bomb and put a honey bee hive in a shoebox, making a quite effective B-bomb.

Laura Ingalls Wilder starts the book about her youngest years explaining that she tries to be good but she just can’t be as good as her sister Mary. There are ways they are supposed to behave and she fights with her sister and misbehaves on Sunday and runs around. They are also not supposed to talk about certain feelings, but the feelings show through the events. When I read the books to my son and daughter, I found myself a bit appalled and editing the bits about the blackface minstrel show that they do and about Laura’s Ma talking about “dirty Indians”. Mrs. Wilder edited her life quite severely for those books, but I too chafed under the cage of society’s rules and what feeling I was and was not allowed to express.

Now there are series based on Laura’s mother, grandmother and great grandmother. I like them though the feelings aren’t as authentic to me. Not quite. My daughter loved the books about Laura’s mother and I think is like her. My daughter objects to Anne’s behavior in the first book of the Anne of Green Gables series. “No one is like that!” she says. I mention a classmates name, who is very very extroverted. “Hmmm,” says my daughter, “Ok, she is like that.”

The photograph is from 1965. My maternal grandmother, me and my sister. I do not know who took it.

And a favorite carol:

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: favorite writer.

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Difficult?

With Cee’s Flower of the Day on hiatus, I am casting around. Here, a weekly prompt: divorce.

My ex and I did a year of couples counseling and then another year of hammering out the details. I felt like a terrible failure and did simultaneous solo counseling to figure out why I was failing. It took me two years to make the decision and I was anxious the entire time. And then once I decided, the anxiety evaporated like morning mist.

One thing that I realized is that we each had a blind spot. I love working and am a hard worker and even to the point of working until I get sick. My ex did not want to work, partly because his father seemed to hate it so much. My ex was dedicated to doing something fun every day and that was a revelation to me: were we allowed to have fun? So it was all lots of fun for a decade. He was in charge of play: bicycling, swing dance, going to music, golf (golf did not take with me), tennis. I was in charge of work and practical things. This started to fall apart with kids, because I wanted to have fun with the kids and he said, “Kids aren’t fun.” As I moved into defining fun, he refused to move into work.

At some point during the prolonged divorce process, I realized that some of it was not about me at all. He knew at some level that he had to go work, because his son was reaching his teens. My ex looked at me one day and said, “I’m going to have to thank you for this, aren’t I?” “Damn straight,” I replied. I wished he could deal with the work thing in the marriage, but he couldn’t. He went off and went to nursing school and has an RN. I talked to him yesterday on the phone. He said, “I decided when I was young that I was going to do tons outdoors until I got old and then I would work. And look how it’s working out!” A little hard on me, I think. Meanwhile the kids got bored with the whole thing so they were reassured that it was not about them.

Anyhow, I think it was the right thing to do though difficult. During one argument my ex said, “I have avoided doing anything hard.” I was annoyed and said, “What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done?” “Marry YOU.” That made me laugh: a perfect snappy comeback and probably true.

This is The Yes Yes Boys, doing Make it Easy. I bought the CD when they played live at the Upstage here. I love this song. It’s not on You tube, but you can download the music for free here: https://hobemianrecords.com/product/why-say-no/.

“If you still can’t make it easy, get you a job and go to work
Don’t be hanging round here and there, miss your meals, wear a raggedy shirt
Cause when you’re missing your meals and you’re missing your bed
That’ll give you the pneumonia that will kill you dead
If you can’t make it easy, get you a job and go to work“

Highly recommended and very funny!

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Teamwork

The plaque for this pollinator, the yucca moth, says that it and the yucca plant have evolved to be dependent on each other. Dependent sounds a bit worrisome. If I reframe it as teamwork, all of a sudden it sounds much better! And this is intentional pollination, which the author says is rare.

This is from the Holiday Exhibit, complete with train, at the US Botanic Gardens.

Does dependent sound more worrisome than teamwork? If so, why?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pollinator.

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Wordplay

The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is protagonist.

Sol Duc is ready to go outside in the dark and explore.

So there is also an antagonist.

I looked up contagonist and that’s a word too, though I haven’t seen it used much.

Agonist is a word too.

So if the heroine of a story is not a pro, is she an amatuagonist?

Sol Duc doesn’t care. “I’m a cat and I am always the protagonist.”

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One part

I don’t think it is easy to do two parts with straight hair. Now, if I had one of those rather awful perms I had in the 1970s, I could do two parts and tiny braids. At least, I could do the front. I would need help with the back.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Part Two.

I took this photograph when I was picking up mail for a neighbor. I said he’d better come home soon or I would be buried. And gosh, we can’t see any parts.

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Wach Auf!

Oomph! is a German band. The line up has changed over the years, but they have 14 albums out to date. Wikipedia describes their style as incorporating many styles including “metal, industrial, alternative rock, electronica and gothic”. I think my personal AI got worried — it played “Sweet Coffee Jazz Music and Bossa Nova Piano smooth for Energizing the day” after I put Wach Auf on. It knows I don’t listen to a lot of metal, industrial, alternative rock, electronic, gothic German bands.

The song Wach Auf was in the movie Aliens vs Predator: Requiem.

The photograph is me in 2022 at Halloween. Might be a good thing to wear to an Oomph! concert.

They are all new to me, thanks to the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Oomph!

I am hoping Wach Auf! isn’t a swear. I asked google to translate it and it failed. Uh-oh. I have sung Wachet Auf.

I tried again. It translates “Wach auf” as Wake up and “Wachet Auf” as Shut Up. Hmmm. That seems ironic.

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A-typical

My daughter and I went to Rialto Beach two days ago. We hiked the beach, returned and found our campsite. I bought my lifetime National Park Pass, but the park sites were full. We found a nearby private campsite that was just fine. My daughter gave it an A- for restrooms, a B for the sinks with hoses bringing cold water and a D for the regular not-bear-proof garbage cans.

After setting up the tent and dinner, we returned to Rialto for the sunset. Quite gorgeous, with the sun sinking in to the Pacific.

Earlier a ranger checked in when we were past Hole in the Wall. My daughter said, “Low tide at 3:45 and we will head back soon after that.” He grinned. Hole in the Wall is full of water when the tide is in. We could cross via a path over and behind the rock.

We wanted to see a whale, but mostly we saw rocks that were not whales. The tidepools are gorgeous.

There also were lots of brown pelicans. Wow, can they fly beautifully. My daughter points out that they look way more like airplanes than either eagles or great blue herons. It’s the wide body and the landing gear retracted and the really long glides.

They can stall and then dive.

We had a lovely trip. Meanwhile, I did not take my laptop. TYPING WITHDRAWAL! I had my journal, of course.

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: type.

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Rescue

A friend stops speaking to me. Nearly a year ago. I particularly mind because this person said, “We will always be friends, no matter what.” I am skeptical of always/never statements, but I want it to be true.

I run across him and he is in trouble. He has boxes, cases, six by four by six feet. Stuff he finds valuable, though it’s not anything I value. He is outside with the cases and is being threatened, told to hand them over.

It’s not a dramatic rescue. I just walk up and say “Hi,” to him. I am there, I am a witness, I look over my shoulder. There isn’t anyone else with me, but the implication is there. The threatening person leaves.

The former friend looks at me. “We’d better get the boxes inside,” I say, “Until you can move them.” We are by my house. “You can have upstairs and I’ll take the basement.” He looks uncomfortable, but he can’t leave his valuables on the street. “Or I will take upstairs and you the basement.” He still looks awkward. “Ok, or we can both be on the same floor, I don’t care.” He looks away. He says, “If we are on the same floor, I will want to kiss you.”

“Oh,” I say, and wake up. It’s a dream. It’s not him. It’s what my brain thinks he could/should be? Good luck with that.

Still, I decide that we should be on different floors. He has not spoken to me for a year and I don’t trust the friendship and certainly no kissing. I want him out of my house as soon as he can arrange transport for the four boxes. If he wants to renew the friendship then, he can contact me.

However, there is a shift in me. How odd that a dream can do that. I feel less upset about the whole thing. I like the version of him that my dream brought me, even though it isn’t real. It’s real in my dreams. Maybe that is enough. I feel more comfortable and happy.

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I took the photograph two days ago at Rialto Beach. The Hole in the Wall rock looks like a giant elephant. My daughter and I hiked the beach and camped for a night near by.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: karma.