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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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"Another" rhymes with mother.Tis day ten.
A black and white Wednesday.
Ron, hope it was no bother, brother.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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neebbee, this is a brand new frame I happened to have by some weird coincidence, and all Bobbye's painting now needs is a proper border.
It's sort of weird, too, that Bobby Bob was watching Bobbye's picture being painted. :0)
That is a photo of Bobbye in the gold frame, but it is ghostly.
Coincidence, live, or is it Memorex?
I've tried to do all the mice and their gifts justice by posing them.
Of course, the fruitcake is history, but there is feralfae's card.
The faux silver tray from T Hocking's crackers is there with mice looking for crumbs. There is still some Gouda and the cheddar left.
I can only thank you all one more time.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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hey there say, mouse...
had a good start to the new year, thinking about my dad, and later, finally heard from my mom--but it was 'intense', i reckon to call it...
however we worked our way through the phone call...
will explain, later...
later tonight, i called my 'another rhymes with mother' and
things seemed more 'even keel' if a keel can be even in storms, but:
god did even them... (as to my 'sad rhymes with dad')...
well--mom and i had peace for the rest of the eve and i finished my
new year day, with roasting the rest of the duck (made soup, first, with it)... and my boston-stamp fairy, and i did bills and mail--she helps
'check my math' ;))
so:
said all that, as, coming here to see this wonderful sight...
a mouse-house of delight...
as many mice, now play by d' light of medium bright...
so glad you got a better frame, as you could see that one did not
fit--was for protection only... could not find any at the thrift
store, this time, but needed something for protection, so that did the trick...
yep, ron jumped right for the 'portrait of mother' early on, in the
list... (i reckon with the eye for art, in his work, he had an eye for
art, as to his gift-pick) ...
as i said, they all worked out so interesting in everyone's pick!
so fun, i had to learn more about these guys, and their choices...
only zbrown, and skully were not given too much to choose from, due to
getting hold of them late... but their gifts were surely
GOOD AND WARM... :) FROM good warm hearts...
well, as to liz:
i did not know what to pick to be from her... and then:
SUDDENLY, ON THE LAST TRIP... there it was!
it was HER!!!! (WELL, so i thought)...
hee hee, you will see...
sweet, yet bold...
symbol of a 'mrs' to hold...
made of glass...
a little lass...
there to 'travel along' the days, now, that be...
also, as to my little added in gift:
i know you like to learn of new places, and you may KNOW of this one
place, but if not, i will tell you more,'with the airing'...
it is connected to what the shaped-one, 'is wearing'...
*there is a BOOK, too, that goes with nita and timids...
*and zbrowns's has a bit of glass in the box, so open CAREFULLY!!!
HAPPY 2014!!
am keeping busy, and praying...
though had to stop in, for the sharing...
god sure loves us all...
as through life, we often crawl...
though, strengthened from crawls, to stand and run...
when we reach out for help, with each new sun...
passing on, a helping hand...
sending out good cheer...
knowing our days, are but blowing-sand...
we can try to our best, while here...
edit:
say, mouse... it is oil, and not acrylic... so let it dry a lot
before ever wiping it, or cleaning it... (however, these acrylic
seem to take long to dry, too, but i been using 'open' ones that
take longer to dry... thus, i try to send out 'CAUTIONS' :))
also, can't tell if you have it in glass (don't think you do) ...
not sure if glass over it, would be good for oil paintings???
you will know what to do though, :)
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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hey there say, mouse... most likely i should NOT tell you this...
as, now, whenever you look at your mother's painting, you will SEE THIS:
but a good mouse, spies much:
when i did this painting, i KEPT noticing that the shadows on her
BLOUSE looked near enough like:
a christmas tree and a running mouse, ;)
i had to paint it careful enough so it did NOT look too intense, :))
see, there now! see, NOW you will always see that she was meant
to be a christmas gift, :))
so funny, huh, :))
god KNEW she had on JUST the proper outfit, that day!!!!
what else, can we say, :)
:O
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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I just this minute saw this post,
for I've been out there in the cold world,
chasing shadow and light.
It is as you say so right to pray
For all whose way leads here to play.
No one will be turned away.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
There's a man back a-ways
Who believes at where he is
And there's a girl
Up ahead who says she knows
And the street overflows
With the folk who understand
But for the guy who can't be seen
He's the shadow man
And the shadow man is close at hand
Take a turn and see his smile
Made of nothing but loneliness
Just take a walk and be a friend
To the shadow man
You can call him joe, you can call him sam
You should call and see who answers
For he promises to come running, guided by the truth
But the shadow man is really you
Look in his eyes and see your reflection
Look to the stars and see his eyes
He'll show you tomorrow, he'll show you the sorrows
Of what you did today
You can call him foe, you can call him friend
You should call and see who answers
For he knows your eyes are drawn to the road ahead
And the shadow man is waiting round the bend
Oh, the shadow man
Ohooooo oooo
Shadow man, shadow man
It's really you, it's really you, it's really you
He's the shadow man
Oh yeah
Shadow man
Songwriters
Bonner, Garry / Gordon, Alan
But look what I came home with. Can I keep one?
http://www.latimes.com/la-tr-top-10-wood-gallery-pg,0,1522287.photogallery#axzz2pKk4MS6U
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lostinshanghai
Social climber
someplace
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Happy New Year Mousie, a couple days late.
I am Alive, free of the sticks. Started off first by tracking, finding out where, 5 hour flight, staying for a few weeks until he could see me. I was healed, jumped up and down with joy, threw the sticks into the audience like he told me to do, hit an old lady but I could walk free without them. That was until I walked down off the stage, tripped and then handed back the sticks. Thousands spent for nothing.
San Francisco worked on the back, Chinese doc read the area L4-L5 like a book even went back years of abuse to the spine and pinched nerves. He was pissed when he found out four days after he and three others did the surgery when I was toasting ice on the ground with propane when it was colder than a witch’s #it back in the first week of Dec.
So mellowed out, walked, walked, couldn’t watch Jerry baby any more so tried about everything to copy slides, close but not close enough, was not happy with results so finally drove to Modesto and bought a scanner ; happy with the results. Nice machine.
So here are a few for a start. These were the real best times for all of us. No politics, lots of booze, drugs, rock and roll and everything else with one idea: climb, fun and more fun. This was the time when the real Mountain Bar was a bar.
Will post more as soon as I can get my hands on them. Still have my day job.
Will tell stories on the Flames with photos.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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The tunnel of time begins in the hole in Millis' smile.
My friends and fellow Christians, the sun is an early riser and dissing Jesus and carousing all night will not get you into heaven.
For you are here now.
Enjoy May while you can remember it.
This is what the great Talus Slides are made for, so that mice and near-misses can still reap what we have all sown:
History, made by hands jammed into deep deep cracks in the dermis of Mommy, seen through eyes glazed red, and savored like bacon on my camp stove.
Eat of our bodies as they were, feast on the wine of sweat and tears, and LET IT BLEEED!
Amen.
[ex tempore ad hawk prayer from the Rev via sympathetic ley virgins in lycra dancing in the dream I just woke from, which was mainly about Degnan's, but that's okay, it's all soul food from the Auld Sod]
Jay, you old sod! Dynamite me a tunnel and the Throwpie shall be in the sky for reals!
BLATS FROM THE PAST
Pt. one, Degnan's
A Winter Night in Yosemite
by Doctor John P. Degnan
The winter nights were the best in the long ago era of Yosemite before the auto and the all-year highway. Somehow, although the young historians may disagree, it was colder so that we could cut the river ice and store it in sawdust rooms for summer use, and there was deep snow unbroken as the eye swept the meadow and thence up the sullen cliffs to where the eagles soare
Home, in the shadow of these cliffs, was primitive by today’s standards, but most comfortable to my brothers and sisters and me. The outside world of storm and fury or silent chill was completely locked away by the sturdy walls my father built, and the wood fire in the cast iron stove lent a cheerfulness and serenity to all that sometimes is not found in the home today. Hot, just-baked bread, beans and salt pork, then a summer apple from the straw—and then my father’s flute and songs from the Celtic land—warrior songs and happy jugs and my mother danced but scarcely touched the floor. Then quiet night, and family prayers and we children up to bed, where the friendly gabled window held back the storm but let in the stars.
Downstairs, my father would smoke the short clay pipe he had bought from the peddler the summer before. He was a remarkable man, physically powerful, in fact the strongest man in Yosemite. (I myself had seen him thrash three men at once on an occasion I will not recite here.) This great physical strength was tempered by a prudent and judicious mind that made him a loving and provident father and friend of an isolated community that often needed his services.
[The Brauns live this way, the rest of the community who have lived there long enough will find this is the mindset of those who exist there. Help when you can, it comes back when you need, and it’s all for as near free as it can get. Simon—the-cat--says.]
My mother, in contrast, was of short stature but stiff as a ramrod inside. Her early life on a farm in Ireland prepared her well for the rigors of these pioneer times in Yosemite. She had a kind heart which she often kept hidden from careless scrutiny.
These two people, John and Bridget Degnan, had come to this grand and awesome place as young married, to build a home and raise a family. My father worked on the roads and trails and my mother baked and soon started a dairy in the summer. Some how they got along, and the children helped, and I knew we were not poor—while not quite as rich as some others.
Cows!
The winter nights went by and winters and summers came and so did the people. And we have a fine fancy business now, and the sign says, Degnan’s of Yosemite, since 1884, and my own grandchildren are in the house my father built.
The Donahoe family, descended from John and Briget, and friends of the Flames, were good to lots of us and climbed with some of us.
They had a way that made you feel like you were in two places at once, as Gypsy's caption indicates.
neebee, I'm not going to iron the quilt. It's a man's quilt. And it's on my recliner. It's warm. I fell asleep in the chair on it. I like the wrinkles. It's gaining character as I type. Thanks, really. The Hmongs are better, quilt-wise. Don't mind my saying. They have tons of help and no Bobby Bob to disrupt things!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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[Click to View YouTube Video]There will always be a space in the parking lot (dream on).
A steel bong-bong engagement
Dirty filthy pop tent
Feed on me
Well, aight
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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In Praise of Folly, by golly.Dementians United, the Way of the Mind are Just Too Weird, they being a two-fold path on the quilt of life. Think too much and the going gets harder and so don't think, just plan on becoming senile and it won't seem so bad, cuz you made it happen.
You won't have to worry about all that crap...who gets what...how much...will they just blow it? Same old folly that got us here in the first place. I'm talking fruit here, and the knowledge of tiny nubbins that maybe no one ever will stand on again, known only to God.
thank you Bird and merry braun for these ideas
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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hey there say, mouse... happy good day... stopped by... after email...
ohmy yes! they are surely better, :)
mine as made in just about two nights, time was of the essence, :)
no fancy quilt stiches, :( and only fast hand sewing and my
WILD adventure, whewwwwwwwwwwww, with the ol' bobby-bob cat:
who would have done weller, to have 'bobbed' then to 'weave' ;)
in that ring of trouble, :O
say, and perhaps, too, hand wash? if it ever does need it?
it is not really strong, but very bright and happy and :))
:)
only once, have i ever made a real quilt, and even then, not the
tradition really good ones... always another meadow of fun stuff beckoned me to sew, paint, mend, or create, :)
note:
i enjoyed once again this yosemite history... say, who are the HAMM folks? just curious as my ex son in law/s ex-wife, was a 'hamm' and it comes from her dad's family name, but:
i think? he was adopted (he's in his 60's) and i do not know even, who the family (hamm) is, around here either, as they may have died-off? by now... i will ask him, sometime...
was interesting to see the name now...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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I could be snide and say the Family of Bears Refreshing. But no. I have forsworn snidity and especially with my friends.
The Hamms are the parents of the grandkids of Noah, or they are the Randy and Gypsys, who are really the Randy Hamms and Gypsy, a hand-fasted pair of lovebirds.
Gypsy's likely still lurking, but quien sage? Not I? Nope, not even a Mouse was knowing. Haven't heard a word, but not to be discouraged.
She's still on the radio. Her story's here in the earlier thousand posts or so.
http://www.ashevillefm.org/musical-migrations
For all of you, Gypster's New Year's Day show is pretty hot.
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lostinshanghai
Social climber
someplace
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Scanner says 35 mm will go to 11 x 17 Doubt it; know for sure 8 X 10 would be max. Nice about machine did not compensate for correction as in " adjust photo for colour" I said leave alone, nice that for once you can control compared having the comp screw it up.
Did not have to use photo shop. That was a surprise,four slides less than 30 seconds. Fast not bad, I can live with that. Guy in town wanted $1.50 a slide and could not enlarge.
Now to make a large screen to lay down the photos so can pick out and use a Agfa loop.
So live, be happy and remember another time, same place. Shots were taken '74-'78.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jargon-Busters gonna come gitcha, Jay. That is fast, though.
And it looks like you are meticulous about cleaning the dust off.
Some of Jim Shirley's were hopeless. I'm lazy, but I tried, I did.
We need to talk. Can I invite you down to a day in Merced so we cant talk and play?
Email will have to do. Phone is cut off right now. My folly.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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hey there say, mouse... was still wondering about the glass in the frame...
not really sure, but you might need to take the oil painting out of the glass... it is not really 'inner dry yet'... was barely finished in end-november... does the painting TOUCH? the glass... check and see...
:)
it was thin painted though, in layers... do some check ups and see what info you can find... :)
the paint may need to air, ? until it is fully dry, but i think?
that can take a year?
do your super-sleuth mouse stuff... and see, :)
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lostinshanghai
Social climber
someplace
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Merced sounds good but most likely the middle of the month.
I will bring down the scanner so you can play.
A few more: places to go, people to see maybe tomorrow
Ah! Victory but always is defeet or dehands
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Zounds!
Burncheff! McMeyers! F. Jehosaphat, my stars!
Babies into men into memory.
Life twists and turns like a dike.
And it revolves.
[Click to View YouTube Video]Musik for Big Ears and little tiny flakes.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Has Mouse gone full screen, or is he just full of that which he gets?
He's always thought Mike's ears were big.
That Tim's were too tiny.
That his were just the right size.
But size isn't everything, and he soon learned to listen but couldn't really understand rock, not like norwegians, so he just started listening to John the Wild Turtle, aka Blind Joy Depth, and sometimes Satchmo.
Little pitcher has big gears, by Disraeli.[Click to View YouTube Video]For zBrown, Master of Gear Changes.
Did I need another muffler? None others did any good. Maybe this will quieten him. NOT!
Climb myself a mountain
Sail into the blue
Something something something
Forget the time of youth
Dance myself to nothing
Vanish from this place
Gonna turn myself to shadow
So I can see your nubbins,
Staring into space
(they are so tiny for a person your size)
Dance the Nyghte Away
Jig Waltz Galope
Mambo Foxtrot Mashed Potato
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lostinshanghai
Social climber
someplace
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Chris Falkenstein last photo.
Dale and the one in the mask above The Great Bardini. Well missed but never forgotten.
Ok that's it maybe tonight
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Bless you, LostSleepInSolitary.
If that was at his wedding, I never saw the man happier.
All the days of my life I'll remember floating down a lazy Owens with the Rev in my boat, the Good Guide in his, savoring the mellow.
And then we partied with TM.
Guess what?
We laughted for the last time all together then and I'm glad of the brain cells that have lasted all this time, and for the slides.
Dole them out to us like you would Popsickles on a hot day.
I prefer strawberry, face climbing, and have you any Pratt Sticks, perchance, Ice Cream Vendor?
"It was a fit night out for mice. There was no snow in sight."--Book of the Dun Crow
Eleven Bruces sleeping, Brujo.
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