RadishRose
SF VIP
- Location
- Connecticut, USA
What a nice surprise. Amazing, isn't it!
Not a problem, Drifter. I don't know what happened but I always enjoy your posts!Wherever did you go. I read your two comments and that's all I could see I tried to bring up the rest of FAWSITR, but couldn't do so. When finally I did, your comments werte missing. I guess I don't understand all I know.
I was going to say, did say, I posted that's the above because I expected I might be out of pocket for a few days. It was nothing you said or wrote or posted here. If you didn't post no one would read becase you the only one who posts here. I lost your last two comments I read them and then they disappeared. Invisible ink or something. No, nothing you said. I've been worried and posting irrational as a result, writing while thinking of other things. Someone looking in will assume I'm talking to my self. I enjoy your company. That''s it. Still a mystery whatever happened to your comments.
Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear this. I hope she can get back into remission!I have a daughter with Multible Myeloma. If you don't know, that's an incurable cancer. She has had this disease for several years. She's been in remission. A recent development seems to be not good news. Good to hear from you.
Let's try another story:
Cigarette
A newspaper lies open on the kitchen table where the old man is drawing on his last cigarette of the day.
Smoke curls upwards as he eyes the weather map on the open page.
His mind wanders away from the present, where he has been considering himself old and useless.
As he draws the smoke in deeply, the lines on the map remind him of another map, other lines.
Once again he flies above, studying the contour map of hilly ground where soon a parachute will bear him to a new challenge.
Then he has landed, labors up the hill side, muscles aching, short of breath, before coming to the crest, feeling the exhilaration.
He closes the newspaper, taps the ash from his cigarette.
Is it the smoke that stings his eyes, makes them water?
Spent ash drops like a tiny amputated part of his life, old, grey, and useless now.
The past has gone, he must live in the present.
Stubbing out his cigarette, he reflects on the dead matches, butts, and ashes.
He thinks of death.
Oh my, @drifter , those were good. Especially that last one. Thanks for sharing them with us!Let's try another story:
Cigarette
A newspaper lies open on the kitchen table where the old man is drawing on his last cigarette of the day.
Smoke curls upwards as he eyes the weather map on the open page.
His mind wanders away from the present, where he has been considering himself old and useless.
As he draws the smoke in deeply, the lines on the map remind him of another map, other lines.
Once again he flies above, studying the contour map of hilly ground where soon a parachute will bear him to a new challenge.
Then he has landed, labors up the hill side, muscles aching, short of breath, before coming to the crest, feeling the exhilaration.
He closes the newspaper, taps the ash from his cigarette.
Is it the smoke that stings his eyes, makes them water?
Spent ash drops like a tiny amputated part of his life, old, grey, and useless now.
The past has gone, he must live in the present.
Stubbing out his cigarette, he reflects on the dead matches, butts, and ashes.
He thinks of death.
I play guitar but for some reason have never bothered with harmonica. yet I love songs with the sound of harmonica in them. Dylan and blues artists. Recently I listened to Let me Go Back by Van Morrison. A great harmonica part in that. I think I need to get the harmonica holder so my hands are free to play guitar at the same time.Growing up into my teen years, I ran with and associated with guys who were musicians. I wanted to play an instrument so badly. In my part of the world at that time Country music was played mostly but some rock and roll was also getting popular. No one at that time had an amp so I couldn't even be a sound man. Later in life I picked up a harmonica and learned to play. I might add after all these years, I am still learning.
Oh, my, neil young was good at so many things. When I was learning the harp, he was one of those I listened to and tried to emulate, especially that Heart of Gold. Thanks, C'est Moi.Skip to 1:50 when he finally quits putzing around with harmonicas and starts playing.