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feralfae
Boulder climber
in the midst of a metaphysical mystery
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Mouse wrote: "feralfae, Please get well. I know it's a terrible imposition, having a busted hip, but you can overcome! Prayers, fairy dust, imprecations launched at fate, all are being used to combat the negatory." Thank you for the beautiful rose, Sir Mouse.
Mouse, not a busted hip, just a fracture of the tibial plateau. It's healing, I saw the docs yesterday, and it is knitting. But when I went to the urgent care with the break, little did I know the place was swarming—swarming, I tell you!—with Influenza A germs. So I caught the flu, and that has been kinda tough, but I am super much better, healing and mending and everything good and getting healthier. No worries, I promise. My ortho doc is one of the best around. I trust him to help me heal and get all better.
Actually, swinging along on the crutches with my left leg cocked out in front of me like a counterweight is pretty cool. Have not had to be on crutches in years and years. Also got a totally fun new wheelchair so I can roll around the house. It is pretty fun.
Really, I am super much better, and see the ortho surgeon on Tuesday, 7 February, so I will know then if they are going to do any drilling to put in screws or if I am healing happily enough to keep the docs happy. Yesterday's X-rays say I am doing just fine. The bone is knitting. :)
I asked for a new sweater, but was told by the microscopic knitting elves that maybe a scarf, but probably only new woven bone cells. :) (What? you thought a well-respected fairy would not have microscopic knitting elves from North Pole to assist with the mending? What do you take me for, a troll? Um, please realize that I am on some interesting drugs, including Tamifu, which is no relation to our Tami, but nice of them to name a medicine after her, don't you think? I have something called oxy-something, which I cannot take but once at night to sleep. It makes me dizzy.)
Really, I'll be all better soon, then hope to double up on training and PT to get my left leg back in shape before summer passes me by.
Thank you for the kind concern and for caring. My friends are taking very good care of me and keeping me in books, music, videos, and snowballs just in case I need any.
You take care, too. Your squall and the storm and the water. Yikes!
Peace and Light,
ff
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 08:41pm PT
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That's good news, not a busted hip but the Tibetan Plateau...whew!
FYI, it's a camellia...a lone, brave camellia named Jack Burns and his horse is hitched out of sight, but doomed to stay hitched forever...a very sad tale by Edward, a bee.
I've never had Tami flu, but heard it's mild by comparison to Harding's Flue, which is not recommendable, apparently. You'd find it up near Sentinel Rock, if you were to look it up.
A whole bunch of folks are pulling for you. Stay merry and warm and remember to ride low in that wheelie-bob.
Mark Wellman - No Barriers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzNGt_Hg6LE
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feralfae
Boulder climber
in the midst of a metaphysical mystery
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Hey, won't anything from Harding have a fairly high alcoholic content? Hmmmm...
Not a rose. And so beautiful. Thank you. Is it edible? And, hey, I know when I am being led down the literary path. Good play on words. The Brave Cowboy. I have yet to see the film. Great fan of Ed a bee, though. Quote him often.
I came here to post one of my favorite quotes, which you will like, I think. I had just posted it over on another forum.
"The truth is like a lion. You don't have to defend it. Let it loose. It will defend itself." —St. Augustine I really, really like this quote, don't you?
We had a touch of gentle, beautiful snow today. Sunny, too. A magpie perched on the railing, reminding me of Monet's exquisite painting of that name. In person, in that painting, you can see the prismatic of the snowflakes, tiny rainbows of color. So beautiful I cried. Good tears. One of his best winter scenes.
Bushman, that is an exquisite Kim Lordier pastel, thank you for sharing it. Keenly alive and vibrant. I feel as though I've been there, right on that spot, on that day, when she created her image.
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Take plento of time to heal, Feralfae, and glad to hear the bone knitting fairies are on staff at your abode. I had always pushed my bone knitting trolls to a frenzied pace whenever I was busted up in my youth, and am now paying dearly for it.
Cheers,
-bushman
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 11:23pm PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 04:42am PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 05:55am PT
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Anonymous quote for ya.
"The purpose of spirituality is to expand one's life.
The purpose of religion is to limit it."
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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The mouse bird,
not to be confused with Mouse from Merced
or any other 'Bird,'
is a species of bird from Africa.
No actual mice or birds were harmed during the writing of this poem,
but long term effects may be substantial and irreversible...
Just Sayin'
The mouse bird
A Coliiformes
Is not from California
Not from anywhere near this continent
So brother
Let me warn ya
There ain't no rain in Southern Cal
On second thought
I'll inform ya
Like Spain
The rain falls indiscriminately
So stick that in your fedora
-bushman
02/04/2017
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 11:36am PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 11:50am PT
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Oh, yeah...I found some roses, feralfae.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 12:56pm PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 01:01pm PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 01:05pm PT
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Loving your recent photos mouse....
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 4, 2017 - 06:09pm PT
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feralfae
Boulder climber
in the midst of a metaphysical mystery
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Love this entire page of images, roses, words.
Thank you all.
Ah, roses...
"How can I tell
Unless I smell
The Carthaginian Rose
If the sweetest flower be
The one I see
Here, beneath my nose?"
I did not write that, but I am not sure who did.
Thank you. I will fall asleep with roses on my mind tonight.
Lovely images, and Bushman, thank you for the stream of delightful wordsmithing, too.
Mouse, thank you especially for the flowers.
Peace and Light,
ff
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Don't ask me nuthin' about nuthin'
Thank you.
I will note that I agree with Mr. T. Row Pi on the photographic output quality. Partial to the Real Fawx.
Glad you're on the mend ff.
gNome. Bill Walton in full tie-die was accused by his fellow broadcaster of spitting on his (not Bill's, Fellow's) microphone today during the Oregon / Arizone ass-kicking today.
'Pretty Disgusting Snot-Like Spit' Lets Frogs Catch Their Prey
http://www.npr.org/2017/02/04/513388242/pretty-disgusting-snot-like-spit-lets-frogs-catch-their-prey
Bang a Gong (for Gong_Zaga)
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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(With edits)
The Dream Counter
Counting the seconds
From heartbeat to heartbeat
I see my two hands
And count my two feet
Wherever I'm going
Becomes more of a leap
From first when the sun rises
'Till night when I sleep
Counting the hours
Between each revelation
With far fewer answers
To every question
Whoever I once was
I still bear the same name
But somehow I'm different
Though I still feel the same
Counting the seasons
They come and they go
Why time keeps going faster?
I'll never know
With what's of importance
I'll give it my best
To what doesn't matter
I'm giving a rest
Now I'm counting the loved ones
And the friends I hold dear
All the rest means much less now
With each passing year
Saving time for the crickets
And the night as thay roar
To song of the nightingale
I'm done keeping score
So I'm counting on the wild things
And those dreams I recall
'Till the day finally comes
When I don't dream at all
-bushman
02/04/2017
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 5, 2017 - 06:34am PT
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O! heroic dwarf in hiding
grant us one vision, we play unto u
not long in the past, hence,
he sang and drank and sat and dispsensed
a profane dwarfish non-presence
Bacchus' playmate wore the hat
that fit him on that day
as he would have his say
WEEJaREDUX
(offering one)
on a similar note,
i speculate (you like that werner?)
that if the sun were so bold
ass to shine on jesus,
then jesus' shadow would well report
his incompleteness
in that the son
would shine right thru
the spot where his heart
should beat,
for jesus is hole-hearted.
and his shadow
would wear a sun-spot-badge,
and then we could hire
a pro-welder to
mend that void,
that void in jesus' shadow
with steely plates.
you ever notice how a welder's work
results in a mini-sun?
they are authoring the rapture;
all these sons mending disparate souls.
but please, welders,
only fix jesus' shadow.
leave the dude without a heart,
that way us sinners can
crawl through and back his essence
like worms working the soil.
and perhaps the inter-action
between sinners and proclaimed saint
will inseminate
god with my crooked dream
and she will sprout
new realities that
better get along with
the trees and bees.
--norwegian
a trad climber dancin on the tip of god's middle finger
just in from his luxury suite at the Herod's Palace of Mar-a-Lago
jesus sez:
"Take the Patriots and stuff 'em."
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