Category: vignettes

essays, vignettes

The Hill Is Alive With The Sound Of Him Singing

Come bounding down the stairs at work this afternoon, bursting with it, big smile on my face, so blawdy happy the one other American born co-worker was there to tell. Yeah, so the whole not watching any vids after work didn’t go so well. I couldn’t help it, seriously. I mean, Manafort, cooperating “fully and truthfully” with Mueller, in a completely open-ended agreement, to testify, … Continue reading The Hill Is Alive With The Sound Of Him Singing

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vignettes

Who’s Behind The Curtain In Crazytown?

“guilt spills itself for fear of being caught” Shakespeare Ok, so, would appear as though the hens are running that white-pillared mansion down yonder south, as the Rooster’s gone loco, gone, em, er more loco. Sounds like his aides have become daycare workers, wrestling the toddler from sticking a fork in the electrical outlets, and maybe not start-off world war III due to his complete … Continue reading Who’s Behind The Curtain In Crazytown?

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the stick he left behind
pictures, vignettes

Hell Hath No Fury Like When My Hosta’s Are Smashed

So, have I mentioned I hate humans? Hate might be a strong word, let’s say instead dislike. Why you ask? Well, because they can’t be trusted, have disloyal tendencies, self-interested, and you turn your back for one minute and they’re stealing your stuff and picking fights with one another, and right outside my door, trampling my garden, wrecked the Grandiflora Hosta, and left their friggin’ … Continue reading Hell Hath No Fury Like When My Hosta’s Are Smashed

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vignettes

Tell The Story, Of Death And Dichotomy, Amen

I’ve always mangled directions, never had the sense of it, can never find north, or which way I’ve been in relation to where I’m going. You know, the whole mall experience could get me all tangled up in no time, basically going back and forth the same way, walking into a store, and coming out and not knowing where I’d been, in regards to which … Continue reading Tell The Story, Of Death And Dichotomy, Amen

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vignettes

And Your Home Is Your Fortress, Your Garden The Moat, And Your Tongue The Drawbridge

Back in the hedonistic 3 or so years I spent towards the end of a decade of wallowing in self-pity, at the Lake, a lovely cottage garden at my disposal to play with, a place, a scene, a rural route out of my imagination, surrounded by forests and those, such as myself, who shy away from the bulk and bustle of other humans, finding them, … Continue reading And Your Home Is Your Fortress, Your Garden The Moat, And Your Tongue The Drawbridge

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sunflower of august - thetemenosjournal.com
pictures, vignettes

Crooks, Caterpillars, And A Cast Of Characters Colluding

I’m away for 3 days, and nada, no new news did I see, not a headline, I was oblivious. However, come Tuesday, and wham-bam-thank-you mam, all in one day. So, I think I’ll sprinkle this post with a goodly amount of completely unrelated photos from my weekend away, a different cast of characters from my usual fare, to soften the whole blitzkrieg of news over … Continue reading Crooks, Caterpillars, And A Cast Of Characters Colluding

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vignettes

After Watching A Journey Through The Confederate South

It struck me this morning, how I have maybe always seen that statue in New York harbour as a prize, and not what she is, a challenge, an ideal, to try for, be willing to fail for, stand for, face, question, embrace, remind, you, me, them, depending on your perspective, what we would like to be, sometimes fail at, and that’s ok, as trying for … Continue reading After Watching A Journey Through The Confederate South

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golden dog in a fey light - thetemenosjournal.com
Gardens, pictures, vignettes

Scenes From A Day In A Fey Light

The days seem to come and go more quickly, breathlessly, and magic glides in on a morning breeze, and sometimes stays all day, into the evening, taking it in, enchanted by the light as it dances through the leaves. And yesterday, there was no politics, corruption, nor greed, no bad seeds, or otherwise. Nor desire for, I turned it all off, and on, and off … Continue reading Scenes From A Day In A Fey Light

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essays, vignettes

The Car Park King, And Another Crooked Man

The day was 22 August 1485, and apparently King Richard the III was so thoroughly pummelled at the Battle of Bosworth Field that his body was riddled with wounds, stripped naked and taken to Leicester where it was put on public display and later hastily buried at some Friary. In this doc last night I learned it was all because of some society that sought … Continue reading The Car Park King, And Another Crooked Man

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