A Decent Drop

Six months is a long,

Time to wait,

For a decent drop,
In a dry spell,

Dust settles for removal,

A never ending chore,

I gladly surrender,

After it rains.

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Not to be Reproduced, 1937 by the Belgian surrealist René Magritte

I stand

the storm

left me

a shell

covered

by crap

scared for

my wits

I just

can not

face what

has left.

New Resolution

image by R.A.D. Stainforth

I thought he gave

Up

Last year

He cannot leave

Cigarettes

Resolution

When

Someone close

Bah humbug's

New Year

Bravo

This New Year

Another start

Resolve

Humbug's go.

Copyright © M.J. McKay

Happy New Year 2013

A New Year begins, another 365 days, seems such a long time, but then this is the start of the year and 365 days is always a long time that passed to fast. 

Lake Mulwala at Yarrawonga. I managed to stop for ten minutes on the way back from Tungamah.  To be too busy to stop and appreciate scenery like this is a life misspent.  Watching the water ripple and wash against the lake's shore is the best stress release ever.  

No I an not yanking your chain, seagulls have been residents in Yarrawonga  for as long as I can remember.  The Lake was created in 1939 and somehow the birds have managed to fly roughly two hundred kilometers from the nearest seashore. 

 The mystery is how did the seagulls know that there was a lake that far inland.

A thought for this year is to take a cruise on the lake.

N is for Newborn

 I was going to clear this grass out for neatness but discovered that one of my hens had found a use for the grass.  She has been sitting in her nest for a couple of weeks now, so I am soon expecting a new brood of small chickens.

Her sister has managed to hatch seven of her eggs.  This hen kept her secret till she turn up one night inside the pen.  She knew there were holes in the fence and underneath the pen door that enabled small chickens access to the inside.  

The hint was taken and the holes have been blocked, her trouble is new arrivals, the small bantam mums are not happy when I nab another mum and place them in the pen.

In the paddock next door there are new arrivals too.  This new born lamb enjoying early spring sunshine.

Nature has a way of knowing that the seasons have turned from the chill of winter, though that seems to be leaving slowly this year, and gets on with the renewal of life.

Lilting Piquant

Venus and The Sailor, 1925, by Salvador Dali

the excuse was simple

the night provided the color

lyric blue moons excite and ripple

dance sensuous saunter with no other

than the artist

her tresses bound

by hair gel applied and kissed

together they pound

oblivious to peering vacationists

sitting silent on wooden seats

exterior, spaced by a table

set with rich spicy meats

wishing they were able

to join the lilting

alliteration in dance

their efforts unflattering

best left a silhouette trance.

Disccusion

Summer Night, 1913, by Albert Bloch

"Oh I don't know, I'm sure the clothes are okay."

"But white!"

"And a shift."

"It was the last one on the rack."

"You're brave to wear a number like that."

"I'd have to be gassed, to wear gear like that."

"I didn't want to go bare."

"Just touch the fabric, so smooth."

"Be careful!   You've left evidence of your caress!"

"We can't talk about this anymore."

"We need to refresh ourselves, and quick."

"The football final starts in nine minutes."

My first post for





The weather was grey and threatening rain, when these photo's were snapped, so here are the G's for ABC Wednesday,

Grey clouds gloom, and grey trunks hoist leaves into gusty wind.

 A fallen tree, and that is not a piece of orange grafted into the grey log.  A little piece of fungi best left in the forest.

Grass neatly tucks itself into the trunk of a grey box gum tree.

This tree stump, cut before its prime, is now gouged and eaten by white ants.  No-one wants the wood for heating too much grit and mud, but the white ants don't mind.













Good gracious what is this? Looks like an alien invasion growing on this gum tree.

Bird Walk

Metal is strong, tough, and makes a good roof.  One thing I didn't realise is that birds land on a roof, like I placed landing lights and a sealed pathway on an above ground runway, and they find a reason to hang around up there, like they have a social group meeting.

Whatever they discuss makes at least one bird, scratch and peck, peck peck, peck, peck peck peck, the rhythm is relentless,  and today's bird has been on the roof for the last half an hour, yes, I have kept an eye on the clock.  I wanted to know just how long one bird, can spend on my good solid metal roof.

This last month is first time I noticed that the bird population has a fascination for the roof.  The only reason I am home at the moment is a slow down in sales, so I have time off,  the boss said he would call when he needed me, so I wait for a call.  And while I wait I listen to the bird walking on the roof.

No-one wants to do much about the bird noise, the take offs and landings and pecking.  Off course the others in this house don't hear anything, they think that I'm nuts.  Maybe I am, I just wish that the bird was walking on the moon, that was silent up there, and I don't mind that the birds walk all over the roof, I just want silent footprints, like it was on the moon.

"Turn the TV on love," says Bob, when I complain about the noise.  The only trouble with that is the programs on TV, either I don't like them, or I have seen them before, and mostly once was enough.  The News is okay, and so are NCIS and CSI, and Criminal Minds.

Which reminds me, Bob said he had something on his mind, or in his mind, never mind, think the bird with its whacking is getting to me.  And now I think I'm hearing a truck outside.  I'm not expecting anything, or anyone, but that sounds like someone is outside.

Well I'll be.

"Hi love, says Bob. "Thought of something to muffle the sound of birds on the roof, by tomorrow arvo you wont hear a bird on the roof, not after the insulation batts have been installed."




for Inspiration Monday:BeKindRewrite

House Sitting

Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth 

The clock chimes 

two strikes for the hour

and now that the cobwebs

dust and ash 

from vacant care

are gone

starved for fire's renewal

the warmth of company

a chair pulled close

a good book

my room waits.

 

Under The Bridge

Mag 131

Under Windsor Bridge, 1912, by Adolphne Valette

He had found the picture on a trash and treasure stall.  It was a copy, he knew that, but it was the bridge.  Janice didn't like the picture, "You shouldn't keep something like that, it will only bring you sorrow."  Janice was big on advise, he usually ignored.  

He could see that she was convinced of her view, there is a look, a stance, and you just know there is no point to argue, the best course in that situation is to take an offensive position.  He had done that, and found that Janice took offence.

The picture stayed with him, no-one but he could understand that the bridge, the place, was where he found and lost the love of his life.  

Roads Less Travelled.

Prompt

Felecia sat on the sofa watching the TV screen flash through scenes of Kojak.  If she was asked she would not have been able to tell anyone what the episode was about.  The TV was company, something she needed, but the TV was not able to give her an answer and perhaps no-one could really give her an answer.

For the first time in her life she had to make a decision.  A decision to keep going to the job she had known for fifteen years or take the offered payout.  Felecia wanted the world to stay as it was, but even if she stayed at the job she knew the world was about to change.  Three of her workmates had said yes to the payout already and that was going to change the place, she would miss them.

Then there would be less work, the boss had said that was a guarantee, what he didn't say was that work might scale down to no work.  That's why her workmates had taken the money.  

She sighed, wondering if she had a choice?  "Take the payout," Bruce had said, when she phoned him to let him know what was happening.  So very simple for him, he didn't mind life on a less travelled road.  "It will be okay," he assured her. "The payout gives you a chance to look around and maybe do something different for a bit."  

She had wanted a longer conversation, but Bruce had a meeting and couldn't talk.  That was five hours ago, must be a long meeting she thought.

Her phone rang, it was Bruce, "Hi," she said.

"Felecia, take the payout, pack a bag, and be waiting for me to pick you up tomorrow afternoon.  I'm going on one of my tours and I'd like you to come with me."

Felecia was stunned, she hadn't expected that kind of offer, she wondered if it was the offer she wanted? Did she want to be with Bruce more than a changing unhappy workplace?  Seconds ticked, she crossed her fingers and decided to leap of her well travelled road "Okay," she said.  "I'd love to travel with you for a while."

Travel Assurance

'Be careful', warns Almon. 'Wrap yourself in woollen cloth; cover every part of your skin.  Under no circumstance, remove your eye glasses, the nymphs are tricksters and will make sure your eyes see fog thick and solid as unspun fleece.

The stories you hear about the ones touched by nymphs begin and end here, in the sheoak forest.  Be careful, the nymphs are invisible.  Their touch causes human form to dwindle into a lace, thin, curvaceous, binding its victim in threads, thin as hair, to the alcoves governed by the nymphs. 

Do not under estimate the strength of this thread, it is stronger than any fabric or metal we can make, the thread is a chain that gives the touched ones only a past.  Sorrow exists in memories, make sure that you have a future, the woollen cloth that now covers you may prickle and scratch your skin, but this quality keeps the nymphs at distance.

Hear the trees.  The trees are not the only ones that sigh in this forest.  The human prisoners also sigh with the trees.  Listen to their howls ricochet around the lands narrow contours, no maps can record their spin.  Only the wind can carry the laments higher, which only increases the lamenter's misery.  Their cry is not heard by their loved ones.

Remember, the nymphs are tricksters, your senses will be flooded with sounds that cry, and laments will weave a desire to rescue the touched.  Your ears will scream with the desire for relief and rescue.

Do not trust what you hear, even when your eyes see the touched, this is the nymphs, the touched cannot leave their alcove, once touched you cannot be freed, not yet, our scientists have not been able to unravel the strands of thread.

Instead, trust in the garments you wear, trust the prickle and the scratch.  While you feel this discomfort, you have not been touch.  If you are touched you will find yourself fade and dwindle, and bound to the nymphs who will carry you to an alcove.

This is your pathway instruction.  Now the instruction is finished we can start our journey, by nightfall we will be in the granite country, there we can rest for the night.  We will remember the touched, in the field of names, this is the journey every initiate of science takes, knowing the question is the first step in finding the answer.' 

Soon

You see the moon

and wonder

if you are the first

to question it's age

it's older than you

still no-one calls it old

the moon can even

take a night off

and soon you hear

there is a new moon

as if there has been

a new model released

you wish that

it was as easy

for you to become

new every twenty eight days

because soon

you are told

you will wear out

it is called age

and so you wish

to be like the moon

no-one will call you old

but soon you will

see the moon

and think

it has come too soon.

Turn Over

Attachments to animals can be made before one realises that a bond has formed and even then, you may not discover that there is a link until that link is broken.  Hurt, because you have been left to feel the emptiness of a place once filled and because you did not give permission for the loss to happen.

Sadness, yes, for self, left to sit and cry, bemoan the why of the situation and falter when what others want is strength and the assurance that ‘she’ll be right mate’, but all you can think of is that the situation just can’t be right.  

Then you reach a point where emotion is no more, you do what the diary had planned for the day, simply because you can’t think of anything else to do.  Days convert too weeks, just when you think you have formed your new unemotional being you hear a noise in your closet and feel, frightened.  

Hoping that some nasty rodent has not invaded your space you release some of the self-sorrow and plan an attack.  Opening the closet door as quick as you can, you shift the hanging clothes, because you can hear the noise coming from the bottom left corner, and when the clothes move, they reveal Tabitha.  She is no rodent to be demolished.  You thought Tabitha the second cat had left you too, because you had not been good company.

Beside Tabitha, you notice a wriggling mass that you cannot resist, and because you have not been your best lately you find some manners, and ask permission first, to touch and stroke each of the six kittens.  Tabitha blinks and purrs, looks you in the eye, and you swear she is chiding you for hanging onto what is not, life brings change, and will never remember loss for long, because something new is just is around the corner.  Life always moves on.

Recieving End

Cold wind cuts through my clothing, I should have worn my coat, but I wasn’t expecting to wait this long.  I notice the gum tree is flowering, didn’t think this was the time of year a gum tree is supposed to flower, but then I don’t know all that much about gum trees.

The tree was flowering when I met Kal here for the first time, that was a warmer day, a day of.....Kal should be here, he agreed to meet in the usual place, this place.  I walk to my car, place my hand on the handle of the door.  I hesitate.  I am cold, miserable, and passing time is a chasm of ever deepening distance.
 
 Kal must have decided that he does not want to answer my question. He didn't give an answer when I spoke to him on the phone, he said he couldn’t talk, I have never asked for much,  I just wanted to understand why he hadn't mentioned his wife and kids.  Three of them.  I wouldn’t have known about them if he hadn’t turned up at the football match.  

I felt it then, I was standing at the crossroads, when I saw him standing there with his arm around another woman, the ring on his finger glared at me.  I felt something break.  The situation was confirmed when a pretty almost teenage girl and two boys in football clothes came up to Kal and the other woman and asked a question that opened the bank of mum and dad and because I saw another life, and because he saw me seeing his other life, I should have known that Kal would be late arriving at our special place.

Not What It Looks Like.

photo by M.J. McKay

Took my new camera with me when we were collecting wood for winter heating. I can guarantee you that this is not a piece of orange stuck to a log even though it looks like a sliced orange.  You never know what you can find till you have a look. As most things fungi are poisonous I left the orange slice attached to the log.

All Quiet, No Fuss

 

    May 2012 is just around the corner and I have not noticed or have I missed the specials on 2012? I amazed that the media in Australia have not been promoting 2012 orientated TV shows and films. Not something I would expect myself to miss considering I have a curiosity about the predictions of doom that 2012 is supposed to release. But then if you air these shows can you sell adds past 21st December 2012? Guess you can just don't expect to be paid before 21st December 2012, not much sense in paying for something you might not get, wonder if that argument would be accepted. Probably not.

So far the only people seeming to bother with 2012 are the countries of Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras who have decided to promote their countries links to the Mayan Calendar in the hope of increasing tourism. If what is being predicted turns out to be correct, then what better place to be but in the land that the Maya walked.

I wish I could travel to one or all of these countries, but some things just don't work out. There are alternatives, the easiest is to make the 21st December 2012 the start of your party, yes, that's right a start, because Christmas 2012 can be included in the 2012 celebration which end sometime after New Years Eve 2012.

The plan is to have at least 12 days of celebration  'eat drink and be merry', as near as I can get because it is a best calculation claim that 21st December 2012 marks the end of the Mayan Calendar cycle of approximately 5,125 years. I have a suspicion that 21st December was picked because it is a solstice day, in ancient times these days were religious and festival times.

If the 12 day party plan happens, then just maybe the year date should be revised to 2013. Another year to party? Or just recover from thinking the worst, I might need a party to recover from all the stress of 2012. Perhaps that is why I remember the millennium year of 2000 with fondness, plenty of parties and fun. Maybe that is why media is ignoring 2012, so much effort went into the forecasts of doom and when it didn't happen, a lot of people felt they had a lot of yoke on them.

Must save a lot of trees though, to be able to carve a stone calendar, and only need one in 5,125 years. A nice piece to pass from generation to generation, continuity, because you know that there has been a past, there is a Calendar that begins before your parents parents were born and a sense that life has long existed, there is no evidence that the Maya expected and end to everything, a new calendar just bought change, a New Year a chance to make resolutions, to begin...........

Winter is Here

I have forgotten the chill of a 11C day, with a southerly added for... not comfort, Antarctic chill could never be placed under comfort.  When I noticed that my feet were cold it was a hint that the rest of me was suffering too, never noticed the shivers till I noticed my cold feet. Strange how focusing on a computer screen can numb the senses.

I have lit the wood heater and am feeling the warmth, the forecast must have changed from this morning predictions, the weather bureau expected 14C as a top temp. Hoping this meant a sunny day with cold air I thought that inside wasn't too bad, but alas the day has cooled rather than warmed.
So I intend to spend some quality time in front of a good fire.  

A Pilgrammage Inspired By The Mayan Calendar

Bugarach

Bugarach, is a small town of around 200 people situated at the foot of Pic De Bugarach, the highest mountain in the Corbieres. The mountain is nicknamed the 'upside down mountain', because the oldest rock is on the top of the mountain and the youngest rock is at the bottom of the mountain. Geologist think that the mountain exploded and when everything settled the mountain landed top down.
  
Many beliefs surround this mountain. Some of them are that the mountain has magnetic energies, and strange powers, there is an Alien garage parked full of space craft inside the mountain, and anyone near the peak on 21st December 2012 will be save by the alien space ships, inside the mountain from the chaos that the end of the Mayan calendar cycle on 21st December 2012 will cause and they will be taken somewhere else to begin a new age. 

Just to confuse someone trying to work out what is happening there another belief that the village will survive the 21st December 2012,  I guess this means anyone in the village with survive the predicted apocalypse as well. Another rumour involves the Nazi's and then the Israeli's and just refers to something about digging on the mountain.

For the town of Bugarach the story began in the 1960's and 1970's when the mountain became popular with the hippie movement favouring the strange powers and energies and then towards the end of the last century with the with the 'New Age' movement, who favoured the rescue by alien belief.



The beliefs have bought the residents of Bugarach a steady stream of visitors,  2011 saw a massive jump to 10,000 visiting their village, but only three months of 2012 have past and already at least 20,000 visitors have visited the mountain, normally a town would not mind this number of tourist, but it is the rumours of the strange rituals and ceremonies these visitors are performing that make the local residents nervous, and then there are warnings from a French parliamentary committee that sects may consider a mass suicide, especially if they are not rescued by the aliens.


How can so many people feel that the completion of the Mayan calendar cycle be the end of everything?  Scholars believe that the Mayans would have planned a massive party, because 21st December 2012 is the end of a cycle that takes 5,125 years to complete. There is no evidence that the Maya believed an apocalyptic event was expected when the calendar cycle of 5,125 years was completed. The Mayans expected life to continue after 21st December 2012. 


Remembering the predictions made about the year 2000, how the Y2K bug would end all computing as we know it. And that meant that the world as we know it would also end. All that happened were some really good parties and a lot of disappointment for people who planned for the prediction of Armageddon that didn't happen. 

The Maya had the right idea, planning a party for the 21st December 2012 is a better choice, and the excuse for a really good party at that, better still I can look forward to something pleasant and fun, what more could I want?