This beautiful photograph was released in April for Hubble’s 21st Birthday:
The large galaxy, known as UGC 1810, is shown distorted into a rose-like shape by the gravitational tidal pull of the companion galaxy below it, known as UGC 1813.
Even the Universe is romantic 😉
This morning found me sleeping in well past the time I usually get up, though I did manage to let the dog out at 6 AM and crawl back to bed. I didn’t have much of a quiet time as usual, but I figured the kids wouldn’t be very loud anyway. Which was nice, because at least I got to enjoy part of my day, before Little One and Eldest ruined it for me.
Me: (holding Little One on my lap) I remember when you were a baby, so adorable.
Little One: No you don’t.
Me: Yes, I do!
Little One: No, your memory is not that great…
Eldest: Oh, c’mon! Mom’s like, 50 years old. She’s entitled to not have a great memory.
Me: …..
Girls: (laughing and giggling).
From this day forward, Son is my favorite. At least until such time as he screws up like his sisters did 😉
I have been on the lookout for the perfect tote bag for about ….. 22 years. Most women look at a tote and think, “Oh, I like the (fill in the blank here)”, and are done with it.
Not me. The prettiness is secondary to the functionality. It must have three pockets. It must be just wide enough for a laptop. It must have a 12 inch drop, no more, no less. It must be east-west (wider than taller). It must accommodate schoolbooks (in case one of the girls needs it).
And I think I have found it!
I have resisted Vera Bradley for a long time, mostly because their patterns are a bit too busy for me. But they just came out with a pattern that screamed my name.
It’s called Camellia, which is 1) one of my favorite flowers, and 2) one of my favorite names. And black?? With slate blue accenting?? The only thing missing is me, at the store. So I’m going Yorlingâ„¢ today, and before Hubby freaks out, don’t worry. I am getting rid of a lot of crap in my closet to compensate 😀
Here in Texas, we enjoy some rather out-dated laws:
It is illegal for one to shoot a buffalo from the second story of a hotel.
It is illegal to sell one’s eye.
The entire Encyclopaedia Britannica is banned in Texas because it contains a formula for making beer at home.
It is illegal to urinate on The Alamo.
It is illegal to milk another person’s cow.
It is illegal to own an alligator without a permit.
It is illegal to modify the weather without a permit.
It is also illegal to try to modify the weather without first putting a notice in the local paper.
I have to admit, I’m intrigued at the gator permit. I wonder how one goes about asking for one 😉
Before I link the stories that so far have been written, I wish to thank all of you who participated, and those who are also planning on participating in the challenge. It isn’t always easy to find inspiration, especially when a harridan gives you a deadline. But I also wish to thank the readers for finding and lurking around our blogs. I hope y’all were as entertained as I was.
Here is a list of the stories written for the challenge, so far:
Autumn People: The Stockyard Girl
Epic Entropy: Rendezvous at Eight
Fountain Abbey: One Rainy Day (Part 1)
Jay in Ames: The Sithy Challenge
Lemur King’s Folly: The Starkness of Being
Reluctant Rebel: Nightmarish Morning
Snugg Harbor: A Recollection of December (Part 1)
Soylent Green: The Transmogrifier: A Tale Of Terror
The Necromancer: Glances could kill. Love was outlawed.
Third World County: Well, It Ain’t Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder
Yabu: Merced Recibida, Libertad Vendida
Make sure you stop by, and hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have. I can’t wait to read the rest!
I’m 45 years old, and it just came to my attention that I have a rather nice gift: I can find things. Well, most people have that talent, but I seem to excel at finding things for other people, especially when I am not familiar with their particular environment.
I remember coming home for a visit. Sister #3 had moved into the back bedroom, leaving my youngest sister (#4) to enjoy the front bedroom all to herself. Anyway, Sis #3 had plans to go to a friend’s house and couldn’t find her keys. She was looking everywhere, even in Sis #4’s sanctum, which wasn’t well met. Sis #3 was frantic, asking everyone if they had seen her keys, because she HAD to go to Laura’s house like right now!!! I got up from the breakfast table, went to her room (AKA, the the DMZ), stood right by the closet, dropped my arms as if I were dropping my purse, and looked down through the debris to find her keys. Sis #3 couldn’t believe it, but since she was already late, she threw me a kiss and flew out the door. I did that twice again for her that weekend, looking for a lipstick and her favorite pen.
And just this morning, Eldest was once again running late, because she couldn’t find her uniform cap. She swore she saw it with her uniform just yesterday morning. I asked her where he uniform had been, and she pointed to the smallest pile of crap in her room. So, I looked perpendicular to it, finding yet another pile, which incidentally contained the bag that she used for her AFJROTC shindig last week. I opened the bag, and extricated numerous articles of ROTC value, the last one being her cap. Suuuuuuuuuure she looked all over for that… Oh, and yes, she will be cleaning her room and doing her laundry today.
It never fails. If something needs to be found in this house, I’m the one to do it. Probably because I am the one who knows where stuff goes around here 😉
It was cold. She sat in the room, waiting her turn. Looking around in apprehension, she bleakly noticed how even the total whiteness of the room seem to clash with everything. Her eyes roamed, noticing the small details: the crack in the ceiling, the pulled loop in the carpet, even the peeling of the veneer on the bottom of the door.
The same door that would soon open, just for her.
Tensing at the thought, she tried vainly to think of good things, sweet things. She would give anything to be outside in the sun right now, letting the rays warm her again. But she had disobeyed. At first, it was so easy to adhere to the rules. Monotonous, even. But that monotony was the start of her disquiet. The need arose for something else to fill the void and the awful taste of it. One rule broken, just a small rule, just once, led to sneaking, and lying, and to where she sat now: awaiting her punishment. Her shoulders ached from the tension, her teeth chattered from the cold, her hands rubbed almost raw. Stealing a glance at her mother, she wondered what she was thinking. Her mother sat silently, staring straight ahead, her eyes far away, as if she could see through the awful white wall. She was afraid to say anything, afraid to break the spell that kept her mother silent. She would give anything to turn the clock back, to go back to before and to obey the simple rules. It was too late, she knew that. Now she was here, and she had to go through with it.
The clock mocked her, refusing to move its hands faster. She prayed quietly, the fervent litany cut short by voices emanating from beyond the door. She noticed the marks on the doorknob, wondering how they were made, feeling her heart stop as she realized they looked like claw marks. –This is a nightmare–, she thought. –A nightmare of your own making–, said the little voice inside her. –Shut up, Shut Up, SHUT UP!!!–, her mind screamed. She could feel the hot tears behind her eyelids. She heard the knob turning, her fear freezing her mind and her eyes watching the slow turn of the knob, counter-clockwise and grinding in her ears. Her mother stood up, resigned and looking so tired, turning to her and gesturing for her to get up. The time had finally come. She looks up to find a young woman, starched and rather pretty, smiling down at her. She swallows hard, the woman’s words ringing in her ears as she slides past:
I have been asked to extend the challenge date by a few days. It seems that some of you prefer to write a more in-depth story than *ahem* some of us. I think mine was going to be three paragraphs, tops. Possibly four, if the wine is good.
If you want to post it on Monday, that’s fine. But those who need longer can just post any time this week. And since this is a short post, I might as well show you what I almost bought today.
That sound you hear is Hubby sighing in relief.
Have fun writing!
A few days ago, I was shopping at the mall for a couple of birthday presents. Ahead of me in line was an older lady, buying a gift for her teenage granddaughter. She had been rung up when she noticed the little tubes of handcream by the register, and asked if she could add one to her sale. The salesgal said sure, but she would have to re-ring the whole thing again, and it was no trouble as long as the lady wasn’t in a hurry. Without a thought, I told her to put it on my purchase, so that the lady wouldn’t have to wait. The lady turned to me and said it wasn’t necessary, and I told her it was no bother, since I didn’t want her inconvenienced. She smiled and thanked me, and as she completed her sale, she took my hand and blessed me for my kindness.
I admit that stunned me a bit. I didn’t practice a kindness, as far as I was concerned. A courtesy? Yes, that’s what my parents taught us to do. But offering to purchase a little tube of handcream doesn’t elevate to a kindness in my book. It saddened me a bit to think that she thought it was, because perhaps she doesn’t experience kindnesses often. Sometimes we are in too much of a hurry to help others, and slowing down a bit can help put things in a better perspective.
The Golden Ruleâ„¢: It’s where it’s at 😉
Well, I’m busy writing my short story, so I’m just going to offer up a Sithy for today.
Y’all have a great day!! And get to writing 😉
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| B.C. on On Why I Paint |
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| Comrade Mope on On Why I Paint |
