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 |  Left-overs piled on hot rice and mixed. |
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bibimbap พีบิมบับ (pheebimbap) At home in Thailand we do something similar. At home, we make rice and top it with whatever we didn't finish from the last meal. I finally decided to use June 2022's entries for my responses to other bloggers' entries. I tend to do this daily anyways and post in my weekly 'catch-all' blog (added to every day} "Porthole"  .
Each entry to be brought to the notice of Ԝ€ß☆ԜiʈCH and StephBee - GOT Survivor when they are running the Bard Blog Contest. For bitem:981150 sponsored by huser:webwitch and huser:sgcardin |
| Flowers have always had meaning to me. My first gardens had (French) marigolds and portulaca. Both very easy to grow on the hard clay we called a back yard. I've written many poems and short stories with a flower as a talisman. Even today I picked up a plumeria to smell it. Last night I plucked a jasmine. If I get lucky there'll be gardenias in bloom when I look tonight; if not, they will bloom soon. The national tree/flower "golden showers" (a cassia) is in regal bloom. I posted a picture on fookbase. I shared my garden growing up. I shared it when I had a house. Bury me in a garden. An elm tree at my head. "O Lord! Make me a brilliant lamp, a shining star and a blessed tree, adorned with fruit, its branches overshadowing all these regions." — ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Bahá’í Prayers, p. 186-187 To sindbad I need to be reminded of this "This story is all about life. It teaches us that We must GIVE before We can RECEIVE Abundantly." when I write a poem for/about someone. My meagre words may have meanings even I don't recognise. Recently, Rosemary thanked me for a poem I wrote for her years ago. And then within 24 hours I received a review for it here (after years of few views and no reviews).
To Amethyst Angel🌸📝🪽: I remember Mrs. Blumen's irises. I believe she gifted me one when I was a pre-teen. Ours were mostly blue, purple or yellow. My fav was one that smelled like root beer. "In search of Iris" "Blue iris [#26 Irene Blumen] " To KingsSideCastle: Sunflowers are in bloom at the local wat in Udon Thani. I posted a picture on bookface and added this: "Sunflower (tan tawan), which means resistant to the sun, indicating strength and moving in the right direction. A bouquet of sunflowers is a message of goodwill and well-wishing to the receiver.". The sunflower plays a role in the Thai BL "Last Twilight" (a decent series with good acting imho). |
| I prefer to write in my dialect, regardless of what spell-check and grammarians think. I'm not writing academic essays nor am I trying to impress the elite members of society. I do use standard language at times and I often speak slow and enunciate. I'm aware of my 'audience'. Some folks from other lands marvel at how they can understand me! It's not magic... but takes some effort at times. Love is another language. In Thai it lives in the proper forms of address, the intimate pronouns, the exclamations and body language. Thai is contextual, visual, personal. Also tasty! One can show love by feeding someone, offering food, showing up with their fav food. Me? I never learn quite what works. I have made friends over the years and some people actually like me; but, anything more intimate is problematic. It's 'safer' to love at a distance... and lonelier. In person I tend to hide-in-plain-sight. People can read me like a book. However, I do mirror/camouflage... very helpful in connecting with strangers (thought: "Left Hand of Darkness" by Ursula Le Guin). It's hard for me to mask. But I must be successful as few ever guess how wounded I feel at times. I've written a lot about how I feel in my blogs and in my poetry. I'm sure it leaks out in my 'stories' as well. If I ever get bored (as opposed to listless like this moment) I should reread what I wrote years ago, edit, make an item, share here or elsewhere. To s: Spell check and grammar programs don't cope well with dialects. Both will be the death of expression. Language lives in dialects. Would you say most Australians can speak a standard dialect or at least understand one? To Sumojo: I believe Neruda was writing sonnets to his wife; although, I don't doubt your viewpoint. I remember falling in love 57 years ago. I was 14. But 'love' has never gotten me anywhere, other than helping me survive. There are different types of love. Her in the western colony we obsess with romantic/sexual love. The sex, however, must never be directly shown; we're cultural prudes. Neruda wrote 100 sonnets for his future wife. I mostly love (pine) from afar. To jabberwocky: I mirror, camouflage and mask... is it protection? or a way to connect? I dunno. Finding the right therapist is daunting. I've been lucky... twice. 18 years of this and that for me here [at WDC]. My early days were more productive and higher quality than the last four years though. *Sad* I need to reread and edit what I have stored here. 812 |
| I miss old contests that stretch my poetic mussels (not a typo... on porpoise) and made me think like an octopus in a jar... how the hell... do I get out of here? I'm eating squid with rice today. I added onion, garlic, carrots, mushrooms (enokitake). A bit bland but bland will do this fiercely hot afternoon. It's hazardous to go out due to heat and pollution. Time to enter a contest? Write a little? This old body wants to take a nap... and there's no one stopping me. To Choconut ~ House Targaryen: One I can add to my collection [re merit badge]. I really appreciate earning merit badges. I already entered this round [of Shadows & Light] but need to find one for the next. Still hoping that Taboo and Verdant come back some day. They both served a purpose. Is it time? or gps? or lack of interest? or lack of judges? Oriental is another contest (not yours... but...) that would be worth restarting. innerlight: It's poetry month!  I'm cooking vegetable rice with pickled squid at the moment. It may be finished.  I exercised this morning in the humid heat. Now 97° at noon. We could use rain but a week of 100+ and not a drop in sight. Thunder and stormy tomatoes? My eyes... have seen the gory...  I can walk up and down the hot hall here but it's too toasty with bad air to do my regular walking outside. Movement is life. Keep moving. To tracker: Breathe. Choose one task and do it. Breathe again. When you're calm... do another. This is why I seldom enter month-long contests. They frazzle my nerves and that can aggravate my mood swings. For me, at this age, I do what I can. I cannot promise to meet other people's expectations. I thought about GoT but I'm not a big fan of the series. I'd be from some minor house in the fields around Florent or on a small unimportant island. We common folk have stories too; just stories that never make the histories of kings and kingdoms. That said, I'm a dragon 🐉, but more like a blue-green (azure?) dragonet (fire-lizard) of Pern. |
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