I believe this is Cockscomb.
The cockscomb flower is an annual addition to the flower bed, commonly named for the red variety similarly colored to the cock’s comb on a rooster’s head. Cockscomb, Celosia cristata, traditionally grown in the red variety, also blooms in yellow, pink, orange and white.
BettyLouise31 started a new challenge today. It is called Animal of the Day Challenge. Please stop by and let’s support her. It would be a wonderful spot to share all the animal photos you have.
My husband and I were walking along an elevated paved trail, and when I stopped to look over the railing at one point, below was this beautiful deer, laying among the leaves. I was happy to be able to catch her in the quiet moment. She did look up, but did not move.
The challenge from Frank is to take focus into your preferred direction. There are many ways that you can take this: in focus, out of focus, a look of focus on someone’s face, you name it! Let your creative minds wander happily and keep your focus on the theme!
This seagull was focused on getting himself some lunch, and his focus proved to be quite sharp, finding himself a tasty meal.
I learned to play the guitar when I was 13, a friend sat down with me and taught me a few basic chords, how to strum and pick, and I was off from there. In High School my BFF and I tried our hand at “collaborating”- she wrote lyrics, then I added music. I loved to play and sing and found it a great escape from all my teenage angst- I was able to close the door and sit for hours, pouring out my heart in the songs of Bob Dylan, James Taylor, Crosby,Stills & Nash and many more. When I was 16 I started playing in public, a friend of mine worked in a bar and they needed entertainment on Wednesday nights. I started performing there every Wednesday and my friends would all come to cheer me on and show support. My boyfriend at that time became inextricably interwoven with my playing, and with me. He loved music and turned me on to a lot of different genres of music and songwriters, some of whom I learned to play. He was always very encouraging about my playing and loved to listen. So much of the music that I listened to at that time in my life brings him to mind today. I am sure you have had the experience of hearing a song that brings a flood of memories of where you were at the time you first heard it, the people who were in your life at that time, what you were doing then. Music has that ability – to be able to conjure up strong feelings and memories, and take you back. I stopped playing when I was in my late 20’s- I guess I was busy with other things, lost interest, I don’t know what it was, but I just stopped. My guitar sat idle in the basement of my home for the past 28 years.
A few years ago I thought maybe I would try it again. I brought my guitar up from the basement and cleaned it off. Amazingly I remembered how to tune it and was actually able to, even though the strings are so old. I strummed a few songs that I remembered- I guess it is like learning to ride a bike- you never forget. Then I started to comb through the music that was laying inside the guitar case. It was there that I found my past- the play lists, the songs with chords written on the back of envelopes, the music that my boyfriend had introduced me to- the songs that held deeper meaning than just the words written on paper- they had been there through my relationship, through the break up. Seeing the pages of songs in my handwriting from that time- where had the years gone? Where was the young girl that had sat playing for hours? The boyfriend from that time died 17 months prior – as fate would have it I had reconnected with him and took care of him the last months of his life. ( I wrote about it here. ) The music I found took me back to another place and time- as only music can. I opened my guitar case thinking I would give playing guitar a try once again, and was then caught off guard by finding myself going back in time, finding myself sad once again at the loss of my friend, and how much of life had gone by since I had written the chords on the back of those envelopes. I placed the guitar back in its case, not quite ready to revisit the past that seemed to live in there with the guitar.
For the last 10 years it has been a tradition for my nieces to come visit on the Friday after Thanksgiving. “Black Friday” as it is called here in the United States, is a major retail shopping day, and we spend the day shopping and they sleep over and spend Saturday with us. It is called black Friday because the amount of retail sales generated would put retailers back in the black and out of the red in their books.
The girls started coming when they were 7 years old, and I figured by the time they entered their teens the novelty would have worn off. I was wrong. They told me they consider it a “tradition” – and they laugh that even after they eventually get married they would still come.
This is one of my favorite places to sit at Wave Hill (our favorite gardens) in Riverdale, NY. Set high up on a hill, and a bit secluded by the surrounding trees, it is a wonderful place to sit, take in the beauty of the setting, and listen to the birds.
This week’s Song Lyric Sunday theme is Bird/Fly/Sky/Wing. I immediately thought of the Beatle’s song Blackbird, and the wonderful crow, Birdie who you can see in the video below.
Curt Stager playing “Blackbird” with special guest, Birdie.
First week back at school, 4 new classes of 3rd graders. I’m an assistant so I am split between 2 classes in the morning and 2 in the afternoon. It is always an adjustment getting to know the new kids, getting used to new routines and schedules. I am assigned to hall duty at dismissal time, as the kids leave to go to their buses. One of my very favorite students from last year came running down the hall toward me when she saw me
and this:
The school photographer happened to be sitting in the hallway and captured the moment. Wow- what a smile for me.
Summer is my favorite season, however, the colors of Fall are so beautiful I try not to think that they will lead to Winter my least favorite season. Their variations and brilliance every season are a sight to behold.
I spotted this woman sitting a few feet away from me in New York’s Bryant Park this summer. I loved the color of her pants and the shoes that matched, and the flow of her top. Quite fashionable.
Living 20 minutes from New York City how could I not choose it for this week’s prompt from Frank? I worked there for 30 years. Taking a bus into the Port Authority and then walking to my office in midtown. Years later a different job took me uptown, which meant taking a bus into PA and then a city bus to that location. I always enjoyed the energy in the city, but now am content to just visit.
Uptown
Downtown
Taxi stand outside the Port Authority
Endless traffic
The hubbub of Times Square
The energy of Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village
A pedestrian walkway amid the traffic
Tall buildings
Short buildings
The old and the new
View from the New Jersey side
The Wooden Walls art project on the Asbury Park, NJ boardwalk. A painted mural on one of the wood panels lining the boardwalk.
The theme for this week’s Song Lyric Sunday is Dream/Lullaby/Sleep. Immediately the Billy Joel song Lullaby (Goodnight, My Angel) came to mind. It is one of the most beautiful songs written, in my opinion. Joel wrote this as a lullaby for his then 7-year-old daughter Alexa Ray in response to her question, “Where do we go when we die?” The lyric at the end of the song I always find the most poignant:
“someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby, then in your heart, there will always be a part of me.”
Someday we’ll all be gone
But lullabys go on and on
They never die
That’s how you and I will be
Goodnight, my angel
Time to close your eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you’ve been asking me
I think you know what I’ve been trying to say
I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Wherever you may go
No matter where you are
I never will be far away
Goodnight, my angel
Now it’s time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay
And like a boat out on the ocean
I’m rocking you to sleep
The water’s dark and deep
Inside this ancient heart
You’ll always be a part of me
Goodnight, my angel
Now it’s time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry
And if you sing this lullaby
Then in your heart
There will always be a part of me
Someday we’ll all be gone
But lullabys go on and on
They never die
That’s how you and I will be
We eat a lot of vegetables, no carbs as I am gluten intolerant, (my husband eats the sweet potato, not me) and usually salmon. This night it was a piece of chicken accompanied by roasted brussel sprouts, carrots, quinoa, sweet potato, and sesame marinated and baked purple cabbage. A colorful plate is a healthy plate.
We took a 3 day trip to Newport, Rhode Island this week. My husband and I are not fans of driving, but three hours from our home seemed manageable. We have long heard about the famous Mansions along the ocean, built by the Vanderbilts and other wealthy families in the late 1800’s. Our visit proved to be a wonderful get away, the place we stayed within walking distance (at least for us) to everything.
One of the Mansions we visited was The Breakers. It was the 70-room summer estate of Cornelius Vanderbilt II which includes a two and a half story high Great Hall and whose interiors feature rare marble, alabaster, and gilded woods throughout. We both found the amount of ornamentation, marble and gold leaf to be overwhelming and hard to understand how with their vast fortune this is how they chose to spend it. It was really almost obscene. These mansions were built as homes at that time, not museums which they are now. It just seemed so ostentatious.
Afterwards, we walked home along what is called The Cliffwalk, which runs 3.5 miles with about two-thirds of the walk easy as it follows a path. We chose not to walk along the rocky, unpaved portion of the walk, which looked a bit too “rugged”. It is a National Recreation Trail, designated as such in 1975, running along some of the most beautiful coastline in all of New England. Much of it goes through the property on which many of the Newport mansions are situated.
The view from the path… endless sky and sea.
The section of town we stayed in was filled with Federal period homes, bearing plaques with their dates from the 1700’s. One set right next to another, on cobblestone lined streets.
We visited The Touro Synagogue, built in 1763, the oldest synagogue building still standing in the United States, the oldest surviving Jewish synagogue building in North America, and the only surviving synagogue building in the U.S. dating to the colonial era. In 1946, it was declared a National Historic Site. Services are still held there, which my husband attended during our stay, and I went along one evening. The women sit in a balcony, which afforded me a great view. George Washington visited the synagogue on August 18, 1790, Washington’s letter of response to the synagogue, delivered on the same day, has become famous for reinforcing the ideal of religious liberty in American life. Washington promised the synagogue more than mere religious tolerance, explaining that “It is now no more that toleration is spoken of as if it were the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights.” The letter continued with the promise that “the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.” Washington asserted that every religious community in the United States would enjoy freedom of worship without fear of interference by the government.
I couldn’t resist posing at the corners of School and Touro streets, the teacher in me always present.
A Day In The Life 
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