Chosen Perspectives Quest for WPC

Quest

I have been after a shot of this guy for it seems like years. He’s there, at the top of our power pole, most mornings, making that sound. Wakes me up. No idea what he could still be eating up there. You’d think the pole would be chewed down to nothing after all this time. If it’s carpenter ants he’s after, I’d happily wake up even earlier and invite him closer to feast on the swarm of those damn ants that are eating my house!

As much as I miss my flowering plum trees that hid part of the pole and where this beautiful guy used to hide between drummings, I am glad to be able to finally see him.

Ahh, for a better telephoto shot!

Check out the sounds at this link. My “Pileated alarm clock” is one of the very last sounds listed.

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Pileated_Woodpecker/sounds

Practicing re-blogging?

I keep coming across such delightful writers and wanted to pass them on…

My Toes are Betraying Me

Hysterical!

She’s Baaack! Papa Osprey’s Welcome Gift. And a Storm Brewing.

Wonderful photos for us bird lovers!

http://theshamefulsheep.com/2016/08/here-i-am/

I just want to scoop her up and hug her!!

Now are those “re-blogs” or “pingbacks”?

I know, I know, take the dang wordpress class, right?

Song Lyric Sunday 8/28/16

https://helenespinosa.wordpress.com/2016/08/28/song-lyric-sunday
https://helenespinosa.wordpress.com/2016/08/27/song-lyric-sunday-theme-for-82816/

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THIS WEEK, Our theme for Song Lyric Sunday is to post a song about sex.  It can be as subtle or as blatant as you’d like, just make sure to post warnings just in case there are sensitive eyes out there.

I knew immediately which song because for YEARS, I had to sit in the audience and watch my sexy guy and his band play a cover of this song. He was never finished working until 1:45 AM and by the time we finally got home at 3 or so, we were usually too tired to…uh, you know. So I worked out my “energy” when they played the song “Rebel Yell”. (We met in Natchez, Mississippi in high school so, even though the words are weird, this song seemed appropriate.)

As soon as the band started this song, James would come down off the stage, base guitar and all, and summon me to the dance floor to rock out with him while they played. It was delightfully embarrassing and all the girls thought it was cool that I got to dance with a Band Member. Hopefully, we weren’t too obscene in our public substitute for sex!

As for the “warnings for sensitive eyes out there”, EVERYONE, sensitive eyes or not, needs to prepare themselves visually for any Billy Idol video. What in the world were we thinking back then!!?

As usual, this song best if the volume is pumped up!!

 

Rebel Yell by Billy Idol

Lyrics by Google Play

Last night a little dancer came dancin’ to my door
Last night a little angel Came pumpin cross my floor
She said “Come on baby I got a license for love
And if it expires pray help from above”

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell more, more, more
More, more, more

She don’t like slavery, she won’t sit and beg
But when I’m tired and lonely she sees me to bed
What set you free and brought you to be me babe
What set you free I need you hear by me
Because

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell more, more, more

He lives in his own heaven
Collects it to go from the seven eleven
Well he’s out all night to collect a fare
Just so long, just so long it don’t mess up his hair

I walked the ward with you, babe
A thousand miles with you
I dried your tears of pain, babe
A million times for you

I’d sell my soul for you babe
For money to burn with you
I’d give you all, and have none, babe
Just, just, justa, justa to have you here by me
Because

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
More, more, more

Oh yeah little baby
She want more
More, more, more, more, more

Oh yeah little baby
She want more
More, more, more, more

Written by Billy Idol, Steve Stevens, William Broad • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
PS Just so you don’t judge too harshly, these Gigs would always end with a slow song. Like
“Oh Darlin’ “, by the Beatles, so that I could go up on stage and wrap my arms around James from behind…and dance/sway with him as he played. 

all this talk about hair………..

I posted about Hair in response to Marilyn Armstrong’s post  https://teepee12.com/2016/08/11/the-surface-report-today-we-are-shallow/

Then Karuna posted in response to mine

https://livinglearningandlettinggo.wordpress.com/2016/08/27/sixty-eight-years-of-hair/

Lots of comments back and forth (I don’t know how to share those) but here’s my latest response in response to Marilyn’s comment:

First, thank you🙂 It’s the thinning that’s so hard to deal with. I had a lot of hair for a long time. I think your hair looks GREAT.

And I respond:

These photos of my hair are NOT recent. I’ll have to post an updated photo so no one thinks I’m bitching about nothing! Although I guess it is all relative, eh?
sigh.

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just a warning to those who haven’t seen me in a while…

I’m losing ten to twelve of these hairballs a week now……..

 

(hmm, and I need a manicure…like I ever get those!)

In the meantime, enjoy my response to Karuna’s response.

 

Hair, for Marilyn (surface, my A_ _!)

 

These are all pictures I have already posted at one time or another but Marilyn, at Serendipity recently wrote such a delightful piece on her hair,

THE SURFACE REPORT: TODAY WE ARE SHALLOW

I am choosing to respond this way.

I have never considered myself particularly pretty. I came of age in the Sixties, with a backdrop of Hair, the Musical, and CSNY defending long hair

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XWmwvT8bCw)

and we were not supposed to care about such things as physical beauty, but I secretly did anyway. (I wore nice, handmade Hippie clothes and always made sure my hair was clean and shiny before I put those flowers in it!)

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Tail end of California Color                                       Living in the Northwest color

After some therapy (in search of my self-esteem) I was finally able to claim for myself, the descriptor “fairly attractive”….and the fact that I had great hair! It has always been too straight and obnoxiously thick, but I liked it anyway. When others were going in for cuts, straightening or perms, I’d have mine “thinned”. Oh, I tried the perms (we’re never happy with the hair we get) but those amazing waves would only last about 2 weeks. Then, having a mind of its own, my hair would spring right back to absolute curl-lessness.

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                                 80’s Big Hair Perm

I really relate to some of what Marilyn describes about the hassles of hair. I thought I would have to shave my head during menopause to avoid that hot, “Itchy blanket” feel on my neck. Pulling it all up in what she called a “scrungy elastic and fabric thingie” was the only option. And my biggest issue was where the heck to put it all when wearing my motorcycle helmet?? It simply would not fit up in there and what was left out would take hours to comb through after a ride. (Don’t even get me started on Helmet Hair!)

Oh and the whole thing of trusting another to actually cut my hair?? I’ve been with Kelly for more than 30 years and she knows she is not allowed to retire before I die!! We are great friends by now, and sometimes, I even bring my own finishing equipment if it’s a day when I want my hair a certain way. She is so great and patient, especially when she has to repair those in-between-appointments bangs cuts I try to give myself.

I can finally acknowledge that I have actually received positive attention for my hair since I was a surfer girl on the beach. In my high school annual (you know that comment they put with your senior picture?) mine was not about talent or intelligence or future success. It was about my friggin hair!

My whole life, total strangers have come up to me in stores, airports, libraries and not just commented on my hair. Sometimes they even TOUCH it!!

I actually like the attention, the compliments, the questions about where I get it cut, what shampoo I use, etc. But not so much the touching. (Hey, I have enough PTSD triggers to master. Strangers suddenly touching me is NOT OK!)

There were also debates with those complete intruders who felt the need to lecture me on my choice “at my age” not to dye! (My hair was white by 42 or so.) Or, to still wear my hair long when “really, that should be for a younger woman, don’t you think?” (f. you!!)

Anyway, now at 68 years old, when I look in a mirror, I don’t see much left of “fairly attractive”. (See my earlier post on “Time”) https://chosenperspectives.com/2016/02/11/time-warning-to-young-women-rated-r-for-terror/ )

But it has not bothered me much. The Sixties actually did teach us about much deeper and more important things than our appearance.

And besides, I still had my hair! Until recently, that is.

I haven’t felt well for almost 2 years now. All my symptoms have pointed to a thyroid problem but no one seems to be able to diagnose anything because the “numbers” haven’t matched what their specialty says they should be. So, trying to track down the cause of some pretty bothersome symptoms, I have seen a cardiologist, a pulmonologist, a dentist, rheumatologist, a gastroenterologist, and ENT, a dermatologist, a polysomnographist and two endocrinologists. (I remember the “old days”, before medicare, when I had a fantastic Internist for 35 years, who was the best detective and considered ALL systems when I had a malady!! Sigh…)

Anyway, while they are all trying to figure out (each looking only in their field) what the heck is wrong with me, my teeth, skin and hair are biting the dust. I have always shed a lot but had so much hair I never cared. Now, my eyebrows and eyelashes are completely gone, and my hair is coming out in piles! I had to give up really long hair (my favorite style) early last year but have refused to go short short as it is just not me.

But it gets thinner every day and I no longer like it. I am disgusted with myself but I feel all self-conscious (again) and am pretty depressed about the whole thing. I really did expect to like my hair until the end, wearing a long gray braid down my back, like a proper elder, looking the part of a sage, a crone.

As my self-esteem is once again plummeting, I read Marilyn’s delightful post. She wrote it for the word prompt Surface, and used the word shallow, but I found such deep relief to know I am not alone with my hair issues. Thanks Marilyn and to your commenters as well.

Then yesterday I took James to the VA Hospital for his colonoscopy.

I passed a young-ish, white haired nurse on my way to the waiting room. She stopped me, hand on my arm, and whispered “Oh yay, another beautiful white haired woman!” Then she asked if everyone tried to get me to dye it. We had a quite a sweet moment!

My first thought, in my lost hair, lowered self-esteem state? “Wow, they sure train the employees here to be nice to visitors.”

But then I had to go to the car for something and a guy driving a truck in the garage stopped, hand-rolled down the passenger side window and said “Wow, I really love your hair!”

Hmmm, maybe I’ve still got it???

 

Marilyn, if you are reading this, THANKS AGAIN!!

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Warning! You may have to be a cat lover to appreciate this one…

We are a two cat household. That’s it. Just 2 cats. No dogs. No fish. No birds. And they have to be indoor cats as we are inundated in our blissfully country-like neighborhood, with kitty cat predators. Mostly urban coyotes, but also eagles and owls! (Well, I do have those bugs, but seriously, we are a TWO CAT house.)

Until last summer when Lucy delightfully intruded into our lives.

I won’t tell you the whole story of each cat…that could be a whole coffee table book…just a tidbit about each.

There’s the King, 16 year old “Zorro, the Grey Blade”, the Sean Connery of cats, named for his slashing ability! (He is my animal Soul Mate.)

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Next comes “Phineas, the terrorist”, named for his ability to wreak havoc with anything susceptible to gravity or that involves water! I have not had a vase of flowers for six years now. Nothing is safe really; plants, art hanging on the walls, the toilet, and anything my hands touch. This keyboard I’m using is his bed! (I just know he knows I am allergic to him!)

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And last, along comes Lucy, the princess. We found her in the woodpile at 4 weeks old and there was just no getting rid of her!

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(read her story at  https://chosenperspectives.com/2016/01/08/warning-cuteness-overload/ )

I asked my grandsons to come up with a powerful girl-name for this kitten. I knew she’d need to be strong with two such feisty (and alpha) older brother cats. The boys had seen previews for the movie “Lucy” (Scarlett Johansson) so that’s the name they chose.

But here’s the deal, Lucy has not turned out to be super-hero material. She is tiny, delicate, gentle and both plays with and gives clawless affection. I’m not saying she is perfect. She has destroyed her share of plants and she tends to eat things she shouldn’t (camera strap, phone cord, etc.) but man is she ever sweet. And I have to say, polite. You only have to tell her “no” about something once or twice and she remembers.

Lucy, resisting the beads and buttons I make jewelry with.

When Lucy and Zorro met it was mutual Love at first Sight.

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I know it’s probably some “honor the alpha” behavior but she loves to clean the big cat’s ears.

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She has never been afraid of him and treats him like her personal teddy bear.

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So all that is the background to tell you what I witnessed last night.

We’re in bed, our two-cat family (with three cats) gathered around with us as usual. Lucy spots her very favorite toy (or what’s left of it after playing it to pieces) but it is underneath Zorro, who is asleep. She wants that toy…bad. She quietly circles the Big “Z” but can’t figure out how to get her toy without disturbing him. So here’s what she does.

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I’m not kidding. She ever so gently, lays her paw on his head, and then taps, twice. “Uh, excuse me but you are on my toy?” 

Zorro is still old cat-snoring and doesn’t budge. So Lucy does this.

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This time she holds her paw there for maybe 20 seconds, taps his head a couple more times, and then holds her paw there again for…like forever.

She finally gives up and quietly assumes a waiting position next to Zorro and her toy.

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Can you see the piece of clear plastic cord that Zorro’s body has anchored underneath him?

Don’t give me that whole Anthropomorphism argument. I know what I saw.

And if you had been there the day that both litter boxes had accidentally been blocked from the cats’ access, so one of them left a single pristine turd right on James’ side of the bed (he is the cat box maintainer), you’d be a believer too!

Details #2-Balancing testoterone

I Live with SIX MEN!! Among them they have NINE CARS, two motorcycles, and five bicycles. There are piles and rooms and sections of my house and property that are filled with house-painting equipment, construction and carpentry tools, classic cars “projects” and giant workout equipment. This is how they would spend every weekend…

I don’t consider myself a sexist (in favor of either gender) but I cannot think of a female equivalent to the HUGE Mustang (Ford) Car Show I attended this last weekend, at least nothing with comparable sound effects! (I mean really! I needed EARPLUGS!! Every open hood meant these competitive THUNDEROUS revs! Would you need earplugs for a Quilting Show??)

So recently, to do some hormone balancing in my home (this is different than feng shui) I went into the only room in the house that is still completely MINE, my Group Therapy room and office.

I’ve had to do a lot of downsizing to make room for the newest male arrivals to my home (my son and his two sons), and in my culling, have come across a lot of saved bits and pieces from my Mom, Aunt, Great Aunts, Grandmother and Great Grandmother. So I took old lace tablecloths and made a backdrop to which I attached (with tiny white painted safety pins) all that feminine energy!

I can now sit in my pink swivel chair and look at the history of the women in my family through their hats, their hankies, their doilies, aprons, and their fabric, lace and ribbons.

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