Blindsided 178

“Why don’t we build a sandcastle, see if we can better our last attempt?” Maggy said.

“Individuals, or as a team?” Max asked.

Maggy looked at her watch, “We might have time for both.”

As it turned out, Craig arrived within minutes so it became a team effort.  They set a time limit to keep it fair.  Since they were amateurs, they gave themselves and hour and a half to complete their projects.

“Ok, time!”  Max called when the alarm on his wrist watch went off.

“So, who do we get to judge?” Maggy asked.

“That’s a good question.  Think we can handle it on our own?”

“Naw, cause mine’s already the winner!”  Maggy squeaked at Craig’s gentle pinch in her rib cage.

“That settles that then, doesn’t it?”

A young boy about eight wandered by and overhearing them said, “I’ll judge for you.”

“Well thanks,” Max said, introducing them.

“I’m Robert,” he said in grown up fashion, offering a hand.

“Well, Robert, what do you think?  Take your time.  Don’t rush.”

“I’d say the castle is pretty good.  Definitely deserves honourable mention.  The Pyramid isn’t bad. The Frog is awesome! and the hand is really detailed.  Hmm, let me see.”  He stood and pondered, walked back and forth, his hand on his chin, taking the whole thing quite seriously, which the group found both cute and amusing.

“Weeeeell, after careful consideration”, he paused dramatically, “The winner is,” he continued after another elongated pause, “the hand.”

“Why did you choose the hand?”

“Besides the detail, it’s in proportion, and it’s just that good.”

“I win!” Maggy cried.  “I win.  Yahoo! Thanks, Robert, you made my day.  That’ll teach you guys,” she exchanged a high five with Robert.




First I have to tell you about a joke I heard when younger:

Age is mind over matter, if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter!

Interesting how we revere age

Using instruments often to gauge

Fossils, findings, skeletons and more

Some proudly sit on a museum floor

Some cultures respect elder’s ages

Revered , cared for, thought courageous

Models wearing clothes at sixteen

Down long runways swiftly careen

Job expectancy oh so short

You’re over the hill, no heart

Selling beauty in a bottle tall

Touted, sold, assured to fix all

Others search the fabled fountain of youth

Whether a tall tale, perhaps an untruth

Youth is still much sought after by many

They’d sell their soul, give every penny

To remain young and never age

Still sold to all of us, still all the rage.






Blindsided 177

When Jessica and George didn’t show they went ahead with their meal.  Awhile later, George hustled over and hurriedly explain that one of the horses was acting up and required monitoring.

Later that night, they heard the same woman’s voice echoing across the waters and settled comfortably in their camp chairs to listen.  Tonight’s rendition included a montage of mournful, wistful or sad songs but ended with a light happy tune.

“As idyllic as this has been, I thought we could move on tomorrow.  Stan explained there’s another beautiful beach over at Black Creek.”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous, and the water’s beautiful and warm.”

“I realize its short notice, but I figured this way, we can hit a few campsites, make the most of it,” Max suggested.

Rising early, they began breaking camp.  Maggy walked to Jessica and George to say goodbye.  “How are the horses, everything settle down?”

“Yeah, it’s the traveling.  Sometimes it does that.  They’ll be fine.”

“We’re on our way.  I just wanted to say thanks for the info. I was really interested.  I’ll watch for you on the circuit on TV,” she promised.  “It was nice meeting you.  Good luck with the rest of the year.”

“Thanks.  You take care now!” Jessica responded.

As they loaded the car Max asked, “What are the odds we can fish down island?”

“Um, the possibility of steak is good,” Cassy laughed.

“Oh, it’s like that is it?”

“Well, we should finish off the chili, maybe for lunch,” she suggested. “I hate wasting food.”

“We could do that.”

A couple of hours later they were pulling into Black Creek Campsite choosing a site nearest the back of the campground with a short walk through the forest to the beach.

Tents set up, site organized, Craig headed off to the store for some added supplies and more ice for Cassy’s drops, while the others donned their bathing suits and headed off to swim.

“Wow, this is beautiful, and as warm as you promised,” Max said.  “I hate to say it, but I haven’t taken advantage of the island’s offerings.  I’ve been working long hours.  This is pretty nice.”

“I’m glad we had the opportunity!” Cassy splashed Max, then Maggy and suddenly, an all-out splashing contest was on.



I love how your eyes would sparkle

At something amusing, you’d chortle

Humour was our best friend

Right up until the very end

Moments captured in time

So many moments, sublime

In which we’d share a song or two

Humming parts we never knew

Walking hand in hand through glittering snow

Chasing down a piece of errant mistletoe

In order to linger together there

Stopping long enough to stare

Into each other’s eyes with love





Worth the read :)

EXAMPLE Hello dears subscribers I’m addressing today, to some loyal art lovers of FlowArtStation. Among my followers, are always bloggers, that I could not follow because I can find them only, every time they come to visit my blog by seeing them on the notifications, because there, their links work! But if I want […]

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Your a winner!

Odds on winning:  .  You are more likely to be killed in a terrorist attack while traveling – 1 in 650,000

Odds on winning: Mathematically insignificant, lol  1 in 14 Million

But considering this, “You are three times more likely to be killed in a traffic accident driving 16 kilometres to buy your ticket than winning the jackpot” that’s how much I love you!  (snickers and rofl – I buy one for everyone at Christmas). See I love you this………………………………………. much, I’m willing to take the risk!  haha

I just couldn’t resist as the odds of winning are pretty insignificant, but it was worth writing about.



November Notes – India Arie (Break the Shell)

I want to thank Sarah Doughty for sponsoring November Notes.  I realize someone else was also involved, but for the life of me can’t find the other woman’s name so thank you as well.  Interesting collection of songs, most of which, I quite freely admit I’ve never heard before now.


Hiding is not living

Living is not hiding

It takes courage it’s true

To make the breakthrough

It hurts, it’s sad, it makes you cry

When the works done, you will fly

It’s worth it in the end, I promise

And it will bring feeling of calmness

Ability to face what’s up ahead

You’ll be stronger, prepared

To take on life’s challenges

Strong whole, without great damage

Blindsided 176

“Hey, I have to feed these guys, and settle them in, but we can join you later for another game!” she suggested hopefully.

“Sure.  We’re having left-over chili for dinner if you care to join us.”

“Awesome, thanks. We’ll try and take you up on that.”  George agreed.

They wandered back to their campsite.  “God, I’d love the chance to ride one of those babies!” Maggy’s eyes simply glowed.

“They seem pretty amiable.  You could always suggest it.”

“I would, but I feel queasy at the idea of riding something that expensive, it’s not just another horse.  They are probably insured up the wazoo, and who wants to be responsible for possibly injuring one of them?” she shivered.  “Not me.”

They played poker for a while made lunch then went for another walk.  By the time they were back, Max had returned with his limit.  “What do you think?  Pretty good hey?”  He’d already cleaned and filleted the fish, and there was plenty to go round.

“Jessica and George might join us for dinner.  I suggested we were having Chili, but hey, this is awesome,” Cassy said.

“A slight change in the menu!” he remarked.

“You can come camping with me anytime,” Cassy giggled.

“Next time, you come fishing with me, you clean your own fish.” He laughed at the disgusted look on her face.

“I don’t think so!”  Her curled lip and shiver preceded an, “I’m content to eat the fish you catch, or buy it.”

Craig got a fire going in the pit, and by the time they were ready to cook the fish, the coals were perfect.  Craig and Max wrapped the fish along with salt and pepper in foil and placed it on top of the coals while Maggy and Cassy cleaned and cut corn into one inch pieces to add to the coals. Craig had bought tins of sliced spuds, and they opened the tin and set it on a make shift rack to cook.



Night at the Museum is a 2006 American fantasycomedy film directed by Chris Columbus and written by Robert Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon, based on the 1993 children’s book of the same name by Croatian illustrator Milan Trenc. The film stars Ben Stiller as Larry Daley, a divorced father who applies for a job as a night watchman at New York City’s American Museum of Natural History and subsequently discovers that the exhibits, animated by a magical Egyptian artifact, come to life at night.

Don’t ask me why,but every time I think of this movie, I think of a zoo. Had to add this just because.

At time life is hectic and crazy

About life there is nothing lazy

Dashing here and dashing there

Always bustling with great fanfare

Attending this event and another

Rushing about, it’s never a bother

For although it’s like living in a zoo

With all the hub-bub and much adieu

It’s life and what it consists of

But it’s certainly always filled with love


November Notes – Maria Mena (Just hold me)

I didn’t know how broken

Shattered and heartbroken

I felt inside until that moment

Way beyond my quotient

I felt fragile, fragile as glass

Sand falling in an hourglass

You could have stayed, you chose

No support given, I suddenly froze

Could we have made it, I wonder

I am left with doubts to ponder

You went your way, it didn’t include us

The shattered pieces, no need to discuss

It’s ok, I survived and remain

Stronger now, I lived through the pain.




Blindsided 175

“Are you skittish around horses, Cassy?”

“No, not at all, but my vision isn’t so good these days, so I’m playing it safe.”  He rwords held a wistful tone she was unaware of.

“Whisper is pretty easy to get along with.  I can hold her steady for you.”

“Thanks, that’s very sweet, but I don’t think so.”

“The Morgan is compact, refined in build and has strong limbs, an expressive face, and large, well-defined withers.” As she went on to explain, Cassy’s mind wandered.

“That’s what the judges look for?” Maggy asked.

“Yes, it is.”  Jessica said.

“They come in a variety of colours, although they are most commonly bay, black, brown and chestnut.  You’ll also see some gray, palomino, cremello, perlino, smoky cream, and silver dappled, like Whispers, hence the quixotic name,” she laughed.

George added, “There are others, such as the sabino, dun, and buckskin, but we’re not involved in those categories.”

Jessica continued, “The classic type of Morgan is generally quite good at the Olympic disciplines dressage, show jumping and eventing, which makes them one of the most versatile breed of horse.”

“Competitions range from In Hand, English Pleasure, Park, Western, Carriage Driving, Fine Harness, Hunt Seat, Trail, Roadster, Parade, Reining and Dressage.”

“In qualifying class, performance is 60% of consideration in judging and conformation is 40%.“

“How long you been at this?”  Craig asked.

“About twelve years,” Jessica said.

“I started when I was twelve.  As I said, it became my passion.  I was lucky.  My parents backed me all the way.  Otherwise, it would have taken considerably longer to become a ranking member.”

“That’s spectacular!” Maggy praised.



 n – a small scrap or fragment    snippetiness n

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged, 12th Edition 2014 © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2011, 2014
Had to include this as I’ve never heard snippet used this way before, ever! lol



A snippet of information

A hint and a small flirtation

Enough to whet your appetite

Intriguing, as a gigabyte

Catches your eye, you look again

To find a complete explanation

Had to share – one of my laughs for the day.

       Me having fun! mwahaha

Our midnight visitor, a little rabbit that the tiniest of cats was dragging around by the scuff of his neck.  We managed to get it away from her with no harm done while wondering how in the world she made it inside undetected.  Returned to the wilds, safe and sound, but however she got it, I’m thinking she’ll think twice! about doing that again. She was really quite tiny, she fit in my son’s hand.

November Notes – Beacon (Into the Night)

I couldn’t hear the words to the song, but it was beautiful so here’s my take on the music only.

All alone, I search for you

Surrounded by a grey hue

No beacon there to light my way

Wandering an invisible pathway

Sending my love to guide you back

Hoping I have an inside track

And that no matter where you are

My love acts as a guiding star

Until we are together again

Celebrating with a glass of champaign



Blindsided 175

“Hey, I’m not that bad!”  Jessica replied smacking his arm.

“Well, honestly, almost!  What can I say, it’s a passion!” she laughed.

“The CMHA or Canadian Morgan Horse Association” sets the rules.  It was formed in 1960 and incorporated under the Life Stock Pedigree Act in ’68.  Its prime function is to administer the registration of the purebred Canadian Morgan and oversee the registration of the Part Morgan.  Records are kept by the Canadian Livestock Records Corp in Ottawa.”

“What that means is, CMHA promote the breed sets the standards and awards.  It’s a versatile system with an active youth agenda, an historical committee equal to the states.  They hold annual conventions too.”

“That’s pretty awesome!”  Maggy said.  “I figured there had to be a process, but its way cool that it’s Canadian.”

“How does the awards program work?” Craig asked.

“Well it would probably be better and easier to understand if I showed you.  Want to take a break, and we’ll take a look at the horses?”

“Sure,” they agreed in unison.

Walking toward the beautiful horses, keeping a watchful eye on their progress, she continued, “The CMHA Awards Program is a competitive system promoting a standard of excellence in the showing of the Morgan Horse in a variety of divisions such as ‘In Hand, English Pleasure, Western and Driving’. The end result of the cumulative awards identifies superior horses, breeding programs and farms, trainers, riders and drivers.”

George interrupted to add, “The registration fee is $25.00 for the lifetime of the horse.  You have to be a current member for points to count.”

“The ward is based the Morgan Horse Versatility in a variety of non-traditional areas.”

“You can sign up for several divisions like the Buggy/Sleigh Rally and you’re involved in a combined driving competition.  There’s the Cattle Penning and Team Roping event with competitive Trail Rides, one of my favorite; second only by the Dressage Competitions and Endurance Rides, needless to say,” she said.

“We travel to Parades through Canada and the States as well, which costs, but ups the knowledge quotient on the Canadian horse.” She smiled.

Craig and Maggy patted Whisper’s mane while Cassy contentedly watched from a safer



Hands over my face,

Pleading for grace

Hurtling down a one-way,

Going the wrong way

Had my heart in my throat,

With no time to gloat

Her first time driving,

And I’d given up smiling

Fear and terror took hold,

My life passed by ten-fold

As I peered through eyes,

Big as saucers, I apologize

Give me another chance,

I beg, doing a little dance

In my seat as I plead,

Please let us succeed

In getting to the other side,

From then on I varified

Which street we were on,

Never again run a marathon

Of shock awe and guilt,

And thereby nearly wilt

With fear and horror,

And never again roar

Down a one-way street,

With me in the hot seat



November Notes – Fatai (Hide and Seek)

This game you play is tiring me,

When once we were so carefree

Now I search, your heart can’t find,

Our hearts no longer entwined

In an easy love warm and free,

Laughing joking oh so happily

Now it seems we’re so far apart,

Where did you go my sweetheart

Sadness longing yearning are left,

And more often than not,bereft

Is what I feel when I think of you,

Oh I wished, I wished I knew

What had become of us,

We are now superfluous

The games you play are tiring me

We no long have a sanctuary

That once was just the two of us

And now there’s nothing to discuss





Blindsided 174

The birds chirped, breezes whispered, waves lapped on the shore; it was idyllic and it was easy to forget the reason they were here.  It felt more like friends getting together relaxing, holidaying.

True to his word, Stan wandered over and extended the invitation to go fishing and Max took him up on it, leaving Craig in charge.

“Catch the big one Max. Don’t let him get away.” Craig jibed and chuckled as Max grabbed the fishing rod, plopped a hat on his head and followed Stan.

The others continued playing cards and watched the two men push the boat into the water, heard the little engine sputter to life, their voices lost as the gentle hum of the motor floated over the water until they rounded a bend and lost to sight.

Campers were a friendly lot, and before long, the woman with the horses wandered across the road to their campsite to introduce herself.  Her name was Jessica Brand and her partner was George Waters They were returning from a competition which they hadn’t won, but hadn’t expected to.

Cassy and Maggy invited them to join in a game of cards, explained the rules and as they played, chatted amiably.

“How did you get into equestrian riding?  Has it always been a passion?” Maggy asked curiously.

“My folks own a ranch in Alberta.  I used to go to rodeos, and really fell in love at the Calgary Stampede.  Before that, it had been a cumbersome obligation, but that’s when my passion erupted I guess.”

“Fill us in,” Cassy invited.  “All I know is the bits and pieces I see on TV.”

“Are the rules stringent?”

“I’ll give you a bit of the historical background first so you can understand the progress.”

“You know, you’re gonna be sorry.  She eats, sleeps, lives this stuff,” George said with a guffaw.

“Hey, I’m not that bad!”  Jessica replied smacking his arm.

“Well, honestly, almost!  What can I say, it’s a passion!” she laughed.



I would sit in my comfy chair

Pull out my wool to knit there

Row upon row until it was done

For each and every loved one

Blues, reds, oranges and more

My trusty basket sitting on the floor

Every Christmas everyone received

A handmade gift that I believed

Fit them comfortably just the right size

Cuddly warm, no need to agonize

Alas those days are now long gone

But I still keep my eye on

Precious works of art that I see

Since they are so beautiful to me

This is a borrowed picture, but an example of what I used to knit.

Blindsided 173

“We brought our fourteen-footer.  Your welcome to join me and we’ll catch a few fish,” Stan offered.

“Thanks.  I might take you up on that.”

Stan looked expectantly at Craig, then Maggy and finally Cassy.  Craig stepped into the breach.

“Sorry, forgot my manners, Maggy and Cassy.”  Craig’s sweeping gesture covered both women.

“My wife, Missy,” he motioned toward the pretty petite blond woman, currently waving shyly, “and my two sons, the water-babies, over there are Michael and Patrick.”

“Well, let me know if you want to tag along.  I figure on heading out about two-ish.”

“Thanks.  We’ll see how it goes.”

“That was gracious,” Cassy remarked.

“Yeah, too gracious, we’ll just play it by ear.” Max remarked before disappearing into the tent.  They listened to his hushed voice and figured he was running a check on Stan MacAndrews.  It was a sad reminder that life wasn’t all it should be and placed a damper on the moment.

Upon his return, he gave the thumbs up signal and once they had cleared up, went for a walk along the beach.

When they returned to camp, it was to find another camper across the way with a horse in tow.  The woman unloaded the horse and was ready to ride while the man set up camp.

Max said he was going to wander around and see who else was about.  Ostensibly checking out camp sites, he stopped and chatted to a few loners that caught his eye.

While he was busy with that, the others donned swim gear.  The water was warm and the sun shone brightly as they romped, played tag and finally, just swam.  Maggy showed off her diving ability from the raft as the others watched.  Craig teased from the sidelines.  Max finally came to join them and after a couple of hours they headed back up the beach and laid their towels out, then slathered sun-lotion on each other and prepared to catch a few rays.

Max ever watchful noted the horseback rider’s return, Stan’s romp in the water with his kids and the comings and goings of several more campers.

When it got too hot for comfort, Cassy donned a wrap skirt and Maggy added a pair of shorts to her ensemble while the guys added shirts to their dry shorts and they sat under cover of the awning to play a few rounds of cards while drinking coffee and listening to some light jazz coming from somewhere in the campground.



The music of a generation

Sets up a certain vibration

That brings back memories

With so many related stories

About what we were doing then

Capturing fond memories again

People and friends sharing

Life experiences, daring

Sometimes percussive

Most certainly regressive

Memories to lift our heart

Since they were a special part

The moments that made our lives

Acting as instant archives