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Forget the skinny ones: I do love 8
The clown among the numbers, belly and bum
The size of two round planets, and her weight
An issue of sheer pride, another sum.
She loves to be the mother of two 4s
Conceived with a blonde sailor from the North.
She has 4 fair grandchildren she adores
Every 1 knows she’s living for the fourth.
Her big red mouth is shaped to share a laugh,
Her bosom shakes when she enjoys a joke
Sometimes a risqué one: for her, a gaffe
Is only a funny method to provoke.
Obviously, she can cook: she’s specialized in cakes
For her grandchildren, joking and laughing while she bakes.
(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)
There are about ten of these tiny blooms on the vine of the Forget-Me-Not plant in the flowerbed. These tiny flowers are about 1/2 inch big and are an incredible shade of vibrant blue. I am looking forward to the whole plant to bloom!
Please dont forget to follow my work on my new Page on facebook www.facebook.com/bkproduct Thank you
Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them”;
Ecclesiastes 12:1
'Forget me not, ' I thought you said,
and your gaze was straight and true.
I wondered, by your garden's edge,
could I disremember you?
The light refracted at your heart:
a warmth that radiated through.
'No, I dare not let them fade:
those powdered hues of pink and blue.'
'Forget me not, ' I hoped you said
as the summer bleached to white:
it was the hope that startled me,
like a swallow, into flight.
'Forget me not': I know it's true,
little flower of grace and light.
The time must come, whate'er I do
when I remember in the night.
'Forget me not, ' I know you said,
and I was aching with the need
to cry that I could not forget -
so deeply planted was the seed
that it would germinate in drought
or in soil too choked by weeds
for any other plant. 'Forget
me not, ' you said - and I agreed.
~Giles Watson
HI Ken totally forget to send you these shots these are the girls from Ballyfermot who worked in Reams sewing factory in Smithfield in Dublin including my sister Theresa and Sally (Sarah Tracey) hope someone recognises some faces my sister will probably be able to put some names to some of them I'd say
Forget pink and purple paisleys, little mellow-yellow daisies
Ain't no pot of gold in her rainbow; her favorite color is... chrome
~ Trace Adkins
Summer08.36
Images used:
Kristine
1970
www.flickr.com/photos/53035820@N02/7425031592/in/faves-14...
creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/
Kristine
Shirley MacLaine, 1960
www.flickr.com/photos/53035820@N02/8228519353/in/faves-14...
'DXX waiting in the car park at Riding for the Disabled Association stables at Monteviot, surrounded by a border of blue forget-me-nots, 13th May, 2014.
The next section of the book deals with Los Angeles' rich oil history, and provides for a return to the off-white uncoated paper stock originally introduced in the statistics section.
____
Unbeknownst to many, Los Angeles has served as one of the most important oil provinces on the planet. From the initial discoveries near the turn of the 20th century, through the roaring 1920s, and into the present, oil has often guided and defined the development of the city. What's interesting, however, is that this fact is so often eclipsed by Los Angeles' well-documented histories as a center of film, entertainment, boosterism and agriculture. Forgetting Oildorado excavates the city's rich oil history, examines the slow decline of the local industry, and uncovers many of the active oil fields that lie hidden in plain sight, in the very midst of this teeming city.
This 120-page book includes text based upon Frank Ruchala Jr.'s monumental examination of Los Angeles' oil history, oiLA, with historical imagery sourced from Early California Oil by Kenny Franks and Paul Lambert. All other photography was shot by me, using a combination of Digital SLR, 35mm SLR, Medium Format Holga, and 35mm Lomo cameras.
____
It's a crime, you let it happen to me. Nevermind, I'll let it happen to you. Out of mind, forget it, there's nothing to lose but my mind and all the things I wanted.. Everytime I get it I throw it away. It's a sign, I get it, I wanna stay. By the time I lose it, I'm not afraid, I'm alive but I can surely fake it.
Forget it - Breaking Benjamin ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTK7FTSqk90 )
A dandelion lost in a haze of forget-me-nots.
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Taken with Rolleicord Va and close-up filter using Fujifilm Velvia 100
We went to Fall Creek today and hiked about 7 miles. Anna has been learning all about wildflowers this year and we were so impressed with all she knew. She taught us so much.
Afterward, we went for Cokes and blue cheese burgers.
Good day all around.
Small blue flowers, Forget-Me-Nots, scattered along the park paths on our spring walk.
June 8, 2017
IMG_4138 b
100 years since the first Anzac Day, celebrated on 25th April each year.
I visited the museum today to see 'Facing World War 1 - Stories of Loyalty, Loss and Love'.
Saif al-Islam Muammar al-Gaddafi the 38 year old second son of the Libyan dictator Muammar al-Gaddafi, has made a speech on Libyan state TV blaming the political turmoil in Libya on drunken and drugged tribal factions and Islamist extremists acting on their own agendas. al-Gaddafi warned of civil war causing no trade, no oil money, and a country taken over by foreigners. He blamed the foment unrest and violence in Libya on Arab and African expatriates, vowing to fight until the last man standing. While promising reforms he vowed he would not allow Al Jazeera, Al Arabiya or the BBC to trick the population with their aim at installing Islamist rule. al-Gaddafi in his finger-wagging speech blamed the foreign media for inflating the death toll. Inspired by Amir Ahmed, Yousuf Basil, Greg Botelho, Salma Abdelaziz, Holly Yan and Mitra Mobasherat ow.ly/43gHq image source Wikipedia ow.ly/43guq
let us not forget to remember those ancestors that we never knew
Indian Children
by Annette Wynne
Where we walk to school each day
Indian children used to play-
all about our native land,
where the shops and houses stand.
And the trees were very tall,
and there were no streets at all,
not a church and not a steeple-
only woods and Indian people.
Only wigwams on the ground,
and at night bears prowling round-
what a different place today
where we live and work and play!
seems especially poignant since this shot was taken near cave rock, a highly spiritual sacred ground for the washoe indian tribe.....just looking at it you can feel how special it is......how it must have been extra sacred before the cars drove through it and without all of the traffic noise.....it is a natural point of wind and distinct weather change just on the other side of the natural cave in the rock
more information about cave rock:
This is on Highway 50 in Nevada, a major highway connecting sacramento, california, placerville, california, lake tahoe, california and carson city, nevada with lots of traffic, both truck and tourist.
Cave Rock sits on the southeastern shore of Lake Tahoe in Nevada, and is a spiritual and cultural center for the Washoe, who call it Da ow ga, or “the lake.” The simple name indicates how fundamental this site is to Washoe culture: it is a place of such spiritual power that only trained Washoe medicine men are permitted to go there and women are not allowed to look at it. The 360-foot high, 800-foot wide dome is the gathering place of me’tsunge or water babies, small beings that possess medicinal knowledge and power that they bestow on medicine men.
The Washoe’s traditional subsistence cycle took them to Lake Tahoe in the summer for hunting, fishing, and collecting medicinal plants, roots, and berries, into the Pine Nut Mountains to gather pine nuts, a staple food source, in the fall, and to the valleys of the Eastern Sierras in the winter and spring. The Lake Tahoe Basin—10,000 sq miles of land surrounding the lake—was originally Washoe territory, but a massive land grab pushed them out in the late 19th-century.
White Americans first came en masse to Washoe country in 1859 when silver was discovered in Virginia City. The loss of habitat and territory was astonishingly fast: by 1863, the Washoe had been completely driven off their land, and forests had been clear-cut to feed the construction boom. The Washoe moved east and northeast of Lake Tahoe into areas around Reno, Carson Valley, and Gardnerville. They maintained ties to their land through journeys to the Basin for seeds, medicinal roots, and reeds for basket-making. Some found jobs in the developing Lake Tahoe area as domestics, laborers and game guides for vacationers, employment that allowed them to return to their land, albeit through a far different lifestyle.
Washoe claims to their traditional land have been repeatedly trivialized by the federal government, starting with a ruling in 1866 by the Superintendent for Indian Affairs that there was no good location nor need for a reservation for the Washoe because their population was rapidly diminishing. The destruction of Cave Rock, in particular, began with blasts of dynamite used to create two highway tunnels running through its center in 1931 and 1957.
The remnant of an ancient volcano, Cave Rock is home to the spirits of the Washoe people, whose ancestral land encompassed the Lake Tahoe Basin. They no longer have domain over their sacred place; instead it is managed by the Forest Service, which permits recreational use in violation of Washoe beliefs. In August 2007, however, a federal appellate court upheld the Forest Service’s recent ban on climbing Cave Rock, a significant victory for sacred site protection. Washoe Tribal Chairman A. Brian Wallace describes Cave Rock as “one of the linchpins in the cosmology of the tribe” and declares, “For us, rock climbing trivializes the site for the sake of sport.”
above info pasted from:
www.sacredland.org/historical_sites_pages/caverock.html
You exit this tunnel when headed east and are immediately in the shade of the mountains to your right, it is always icy there, and even in summer seems less than perfect road to drive......from the west shore of the lake you can always pick out cave rock as it is so massive and set apart from the treed shoreline.
cave rock as seem from the south shore of lake tahoe
Sometimes you just have to let go of your past...forget things that don't let you enjoy all wonderful things you have...forget something that is meaningless now, even if it was important in the past...or someone who isn't a part of your life anymore...something you can't really change...something you can't really forget...but you just have to let go...