Seed train,
Soft tickler,
Fairy wand,
Music maker,
Fancy plume,
Wind flicker,
Laughing stalk,
Sun taker.

That’s all folks!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Random photo round up:

1. Sunrise on a surprisingly cold day in October; snow on branches that are still laden with gold.

2. In which we try again to put out suet for the birds. Last year’s attempt resulted in a feast for the squirrels. It took them less than 24 hours to figure out how to break into the suet cage, which they discarded in plain sight as if to taunt us with their victory. This year I found some curvy metal doohickeys to make it more challenging for them. I want to win this battle.

3. Chrysanthemum, the belle of the Autumn Ball.

Brought to you by Lynniebeemuseoday.

“Every night for the next year he always said something like that to me: ‘Thank you for everything, Westley, good night now, I’ll probably kill you in the morning.'”
From The Princess Bride by William Goldman

Just a reminder to you as to the origin of my tagline. 😊

Thank you for everything, Readers, good night now,
I’ll probably delete this in the morning…

I saw them come
in twos and threes
They jostled and fluttered,
The seeds to seize.

The camera caught them,
Freezing their wings,
And blurring the lines
Of feathers and things

They chattered and gossiped
And shared birdie news
While I stood by silent
(So as not to confuse).

Oh, what a glamour,
What a glorious game
For me and my camera
The day the birds came.

I took 58 photos in about 5 minutes. Glorious game, indeed! Do you have a favorite? Do tell!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning…

It seems fitting that these two should live out the rest of their days together; they were stalwart companions of mine in my tender years. The gingerbread man came first – I called him “Gingie.” He was very important to my bedtime routine and sense of security when the lights were off. I’d clutch him close and go to sleep with a sense that all was well. One time I woke up in the night and realized that he’d fallen off the bed. I wailed with the inconsolable grief of a child until my dad came running to see what had happened. “My Gingie fell ouf of bed!!” I cried. I’m sure that to him my grief seemed out of proportion to the event, but he good-naturedly picked Gingie up off the floor and gave him back to me. You may be wondering why I didn’t just do that myself. I had reasons – very good reasons. 1. I was in the top bunk, and 2. Everybody knows there are monsters under the bed just waiting to grab your legs. Good old Gingie used to have eyes made of felt and glued onto his face, but somewhere along the line, all my affectionate clutching must have rubbed them off.

Sylvia came along a little later when I was ready for dolls. At least sort of ready. The first thing I did after getting her as a gift was to cut her eyelashes off. I guess I was still fairly young and stupid. She came with her name and I mis-read it as “Saliva,” which brought amusement to all of my elders, but embarrassed me to pieces when I realized my error. Sylvia was a grown woman, old enough to be married apparently. My mom made other clothes for her, but I was awfully fond of the wedding dress that came with her – so lacy and elegant! She also had a red velvet coat with a hood, and a fluffy white muff to keep her hands warm. Sylvia and I didn’t talk much – the age disparity between us was just too great – but I loved her just the same. She never complained about what an insensitive brute I was to cut off her beautiful eyelashes, even though they did not grow back. It’s hard to find friends like that.

I’d love to hear about your old friends – I know you had them.

I’ll probably delete this some time in the good old a. of m.

I considered going for a walk today to gather fresh photos for da blog, but my constitution hasn’t been hardened for Minnesota winter yet – my frail flesh is still tender from all the coddling it had over the summer and early fall. Besides, I’ve been waiting for a slow “news” day to catch you up on Grand Inktober Experiment of 2020.

Each day of the month has one word for a suggested prompt and I accepted the prompts as given; we’ll call it my Mission Inkpossible. I already shared the first six drawings for the month, so let’s proceed with the rest. I tried to insert the word itself into each drawing, sometimes in an obvious way, sometimes a little more hidden. The hardest one to see is in the drawing for “dune.”

7. Fancy
8. Teeth
9. Throw (sort of a visual pun – you have to think about it)
10. Hope

11. Disgusting
12. Slippery
13. Dune
14. Armor

15. Outpost
16. Rocket
17. Storm
18. Trap (spent WAY too much time on this one trying to draw the Star Wars character)

19. Dizzy
20. Coral
21. Sleep
22. Chef

That brings us up to date and gives you something to ponder. And I’ve been spared that special experience of walking around being pelted by sleet. I’d say that’s a win-win all around.

I’ll probably delink this ink the mornink. Inky enough?

But enough about snow…

Let’s talk about hydrangeas. I have a thing for them. We had a gorgeous hydrangea bush at the first place we lived when we moved to Indiana way back in the old days. They were white, but in the fall as they dried, they became more of a burnished gold. I’ve been in a sad state of hydrangea deprivation since we moved from that property. I bought a couple plants about 10 years ago to put out on our berm, but there were two impediments to their survival: 1. they required special attention, and 2. I’m not a special attention kind of gardener. They hated the berm and the berm hated them. It killed them, in fact. If the case were to brought to a court of law, however, I’d have to be tried as an accomplice. I did my best to keep them watered, but there was no margin for error out there. One strike and you’re out. Farewell, my lovelies.

I saw these in a friend’s garden a couple weeks ago, back when we still had sunshine and warm-ish weather. Oh, how like a dream that all seems now.

You might need to be a fan of the Marvel comics/movies to get the fullest enjoyment out of the title for this blog post. Tee hee…

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, unless it’s still cold and nasty out.

Me: I love the first snowfall of the season!!!

Also me: This wretched stuff better be gone by the time I have to drive up to Minneapolis in a couple days.

The cat: I think I’ll stay inside instead of incessantly trying to escape from this place.

Maple trees: We weren’t ready for this!

Minnesotans: Bring it on.

Also Minnesotans: Noooo!! Not snow in October!!!

Proverbs 31 woman: I am not afraid of the snow for my household; for all my household are clothed in scarlet.

The Narnian lamp in our backyard: I shall shine on, no matter the weather.

Shakespeare: Thou knowest, winter tames man, woman, and beast.

October Snow
The first flakes of snow
Falling, falling, falling down…
They hear and obey.

Happy First Snowfall Day!

I’ll probably be shoveling snow in the morning – no time for deletions.

Sometimes when I’m out on a walk, I’m in observant mode. I’m looking for things that interest me, that catch my attention, that enthrall me with delight… Just look what I found in a the space of a mere fifteen minutes last week:

Don’t you feel better now? Didn’t that do your heart good? The world is replete with soul-filling beauty if we have eyes to see. Having a nice camera helps.

I’ll probably (not) delete this in the morning.

I met a bean while out on a walk the other day. He seemed a friendly sort, so I hailed him. I said, “Hail, bean! What do they call you?”

“You can call me Soy,” he said warmly.

“Well met, Soy!” was my old-fashioned reply. “Just what sort of a bean are you, exactly?”

“I dabble in many things,” he replied. “I make oil and meal. If you want to eat me, I’m known as edamame, tempeh, tofu and bean curd, just to name a few. They milk me, make a sauce out of me, and even turn me into nuts. I tell you, you can hardly turn around in a grocery store without finding me somewhere. I’m in ALL THE THINGS.”

It was hard to formulate a reply to this stunning recitation of my new friend’s accomplishments. As I was cogitating, he took advantage of my silence and went on with a different part of his resume.

“And that’s not all,” he proclaimed proudly. “You should see the amazing biodiesel fuel that comes from me! It’s clean, nontoxic, renewable, AND environmentally friendly! Add to that the way I’m used for biocomposite building materials used in furniture, flooring and countertops and you can see that I’m quite the Renaissance Bean.”

Well, if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a braggart. Clearly, Mr. Soy needed to be taken down a peg or two.

“What about,” I said coldly, “the Asian beetles that you knowingly and maliciously harbor amongst your leaves? Guess where they go when you get harvested and go traipsing off gaily to grocery stores and industrial machines? Come to my house and see these wretched creatures creeping around all my lights and brazenly crawling on my walls! I lay the blame for that squarely at your door, yes I do!”

This got his dander up, I’ll tell you. “That is NOT my fault – it’s those blasted aphids that invaded me first and sit like plump pastries on my leaves, luring beetles in by the score for a feast!”

“Oh,” I said somewhat mollified, “I didn’t know that.” But trying to keep the upper hand, I couldn’t resist a parting shot. “You must be doing something to encourage the aphids, or they wouldn’t be coming to your place to party. Get your house in order!”

In retrospect, that was kind of mean of me. I shouldn’t have judged the bean by its aphids.

This has been today’s flight o’ fancy brought to you by lynniebeemuseoday. Make of it what you will.

I’ll probably get beaned for this in the morning.