Hopscotch Singing

The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is GLARE, and this response is just like these girls who grab a word and fly away with it.

Open ClipArt Vectors — Pixabay

THE EARWORM

“Way down in London airport in hanger number five–”

My sister Jane glared at me. “Will you quit!”

“What’s wrong with singing a little tune?”

“Bits and pieces of that song have been popping our of your mouth all afternoon.”

“I guess I have an ear worm.”

“Well flush it out once! What brought this on anyway?”

“I got it at the mall this morning. This old lady was standing beside me when a girl with purple hair walked by. The old lady shook her head and said, ‘Forever more!’ The song Biplane Evermore popped into my head and has been stirring around ever since.”

“You’re sounding like a broken record. Replace it with another song – something current. That’s so old!”

“I resolved to change my tune but before long I was heartily singing, “And as he rose into the storm the big jets hung their wings, and wished—”

“That you’d sing something else,” Jane yelled, giving me another glare. “Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly…”

“Speaking of being so old, I read once that song is from the Thirties,” I told her. “It expressed a melancholic longing for things to get back to where they were before the economic crash and the drought. But I guess it was followed shortly by ‘Brother can you spare me a dime?’ since things were out of kilter for ten years. ”

The Big Rock Candy Mountain came in there somewhere, too.”

Which started us both off. “Rocky Mountain High in Colorado…

Hopscotching from tune to tune, Jane and I can sing in bits and snatches for hours.

My Aunt’s Bonnet

A smile for you this morning. 🙂

My Aunt’s Bonnet
by Edgar A. Guest

They say life’s simple — but I don’t know.
Who can tell where a word will go?
Or how many hopes will rise and fall
with the weakest brick in the cellar wall?

Or how many hearts will break and bleed
as the result of one careless deed?
Why, my old Aunt’s bonnet caused more dismay
than a thousand suns could shine away.

She wore it high through her top-knot pinned,
a perfect kite for a heavy wind,
but the hat would stick, though a gale might blow,
if she found the place where the pins should go.

One Sunday morning she dressed in haste,
she hadn’t a minute which she could waste,
she’d be late for church. Now the tale begins:
she didn’t take care with those bonnet pins.

Oh the wind it howled, and the wind it blew
and away from her head that bonnet flew!
It swirled up straight to select its course,
first brushing the ears of the deacon’s horse.

With a leap he scampered away in fright
and scattered the children, left and right.
A stranger grabbed for the horse’s head,
but stumbled and fractured his own instead.

After the bonnet a small boy ran,
knocked over a woman and tripped a man.
The deacon’s daughter married the chap
who rescued her from the swaying trap.

And she lived to regret it later on;
In all that town there abided none
whose life wasn’t changed on that dreadful day
when my old Aunt’s bonnet was blown away.

Some were crippled and some went mad,
some turned saintly and some turned bad;
birth and marriage and death and pain
were all swept down in that bonnet’s train.

Wives quarreled with husbands! I can’t relate
the endless tricks which were played by fate.
There are folk today who had not been born
had my Aunt stayed home on that Sunday morn.

From the book, Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest,
©1934 by the Reilly & Lee Co

A Headlong Rush

The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is PRECIPITATE

Precipitate can be a verb meaning:
to throw violently, hurl
to bring about especially abruptly
to cause to condense and fall or deposit
to fall headlong, fall or come suddenly into some condition
to move or act with violent or unwise speed

Though this word is usually replaced by something simpler. Rain and snow fall. You throw, toss, or hurl something.

He threw the baseball to his brother, who caught it and chucked it back. However, his second throw was high and wide. The boys watched in dismay as the ball hurtled over the fence into their neighbour’s yard. The sound of breaking glass told them they’d better precipitate their exit from the backyard.

Sir Knightly discovered that his rare and precious volume of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales had disappeared after a dinner party at his stately manor last week. An investigation was made by a private inquiry agent, who found the stolen volume in Lord Thornbury’s possession. In spite of efforts to keep this matter out of the news, the Press got wind of the affair. The news report created a scandal that precipitated his Lordship’s departure for an unnamed colonial shore.

It can be a noun:
a product, result, or outcome of some process or action
or an adjective:
falling, flowing, or rushing with steep descent
exhibiting violent or unwise speed

The precipitate river, swelled with spring runoff, rushed toward the cliffs where its waters squeezed between narrow rock walls and flung themselves onto the rocks below.

When his aunt scolded him for driving too fast, he boasted that he lived his whole life in the fast lane. She replied that this precipitate approach to living may well lead to a premature death.

A New Plan

Good evening, dear readers. It has been my habit to turn on my computer as soon as I get up. First off I check the daily prompts and notifications from blogs I follow. For some reason “just a quick peek” at incoming e-mails ends up taking a good part of my morning. Who’d have guessed?

My energy level isn’t really high these days so, in order to finish my work-in-progress and do some serious housecleaning, I’m trying a new daily plan this coming week. I’ve already scheduled some posts for 8 or 8:30 am but I’m going to leave my internet alone until evening. Going online first thing will be a tough habit to break. Will I succeed or won’t I? But I fear unless I make some drastic change, my important writing may never get finished.

Now for some things more interesting than work habits. It may be -21 C as I type this, and the predicted high tomorrow is -22 C, but we can always dream of spring.

Cherry Trees

Glorious cherry trees!
Blossoms burst  forth in spring
to animate the bees,
inspire a thousand poets,
intoxicate the breeze.
Where would this old world be
without those cherry trees?

Interesting nature note from our yard:
I often toss organic kitchen trash like peelings, limp greens, carrots and such, into the poplar trees on the west side of our driveway. After all, these bits are biodegradable. Yesterday I tossed a sweet potato well past its prime — and flushed out a white rabbit. It didn’t flee in terror, rather hopped into the nearby field and seemed to be waiting. I wonder if this bunny has been dining on the greens I toss?

Canadian rabbit: David Mark — Pixabay

Nefarious

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is NEFARIOUS.

Nefarious, flagrantly wicked or evil, has its origins in the Latin nefas, meaning crime, from ne (without) and fas (right, or divine law). Synonyms being wicked, iniquitous, evil, wrong, villainous, and vicious.

Years ago the heroes were the good guys, standing for the right. Editors went for good role models. Villains were nefarious. Driven by greed or on a power trip, these vicious types wanted to dodge the law in order to control, steal, kill, destroy. Times have changed: today’s “flawed heroes” may dodge the law, thwart justice, control, steal, and kill. Think Philip Marlowe. They may be liars, drunks and brawlers; still, we should root for them because they have some ultimate good in mind. But forget the role model angle.

Now for a haiku that has nothing to do with literature, but all to do with a villain. Dedicated to those in my family who lost the battle to smoking-related cancers.

lung cancer
nefarious villain
the ashtray overflows