Today is Friday at last and I do have it off. My work hours are under severe threat and I’m going to have to increase them for three months as I have a big project on the go. There is no use in working the hours and not getting paid for them. Anyhow, onwards and upwards.
d’Verse, Tanka Tuesday and W3
I’ve used the d’Verse theme of night provided by the wonderful Dora for both my Tanka Tuesday and my W3 offerings this week.
I selected the tradition of using the Southern Cross constellation as a directional guide combined with working on a computer.
My Artificial Life
Dark night of my computer screen
loads itself into start mode.
Logon criteria flash,
artificial Southern Cross.
Guiding my entrance into
another working day.
The Flower Hour
Last week I mentioned that I’d attended a partner conference in my new job. These photographs are of the gorgeous pincushion protea flower arrangements that graced the lunch tables.
Flower arrangement featuring three pincushion proteas in red, orange, and yellow.
Close up of a single pincushion protea. The red tipped orange petals are narrow and curve inwards above its yellow centre hence its name – pincushion protea.
A slightly more distanced shot of the three pincushion proteas flower arrangement.
Thursday Doors
On Sunday past, my family attended the Rocky Horror Picture Show at Monte Casinos Pieter Torien theatre. It’s been more years than I’m going to tell you since TC and I last saw this show and I’d forgotten how graphic it is. I was a bit worried about Michael’s friend, Jenna, but she took it in her stride and enjoyed it.
It’s been a crazy week! Is there any other kind of week, I wonder. I attended New Partner Induction on Monday and Tuesday and a Partner Conference from Wednesday to Friday. So many new ideas and new people. My coping mechanism is to draw and paint and write poems so I have three poems to share with you today. I have also started a new art project – my biggest to date and perhaps my most ambitious. Michael thinks its ambitious but I just think its just bigger. All my art projects are very ambitious at the time of initiation. I push myself further with each new painting.
Tanka Tuesday
Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challege this week is to write a tanka Puente poem with the theme of light vs dark.
Picture caption: kori bustard posing for the camera
Thursday Doors
My blogging friend, Brian, featured a photograph of the gargoyles of Notre Dame pre the fire. You can read his post here: https://equinoxio21.wordpress.com/2026/07/07/random-travels-umpteen/. I am sharing a few pictures I took of Notre Dame and its gargoyles so Brian can rest assured they are thriving. My shots aren’t as good as his!
It doesn’t rain in Johannesburg during the winter. At least it never did until this year. This week, after the winter solstice, we got rain and a heavy mist. While in the traffic on my way into the office, I wrote this poem and took the accompanying photograph. Unusual for my home city.
Picture caption: I loved the doors of this building, 3 Place Denfert-Rochereau, Paris. The late evening sky turned the white of the building blue and the light glows a lovely yellow from the inside. I liked the arched shape of these large doors with the square inlay.
Click on the slideshow to view two giraffes that I saw at Welgevonden Game Reserve in the Waterkloof, South Africa. This is a series of three photographs of the heads and upper necks of two young giraffes against a bright, blue sky. In the first photograph, the two animals are close together but apart. In the second and third photograph, the two giraffes have crossed their necks at the top so that their heads are pointing in opposite directions. In the second photo, the animals are looking straight ahead while in the last photograph they are looking up with their heads angled upwards.
Picture caption: Dam at Pilanesberg Game Reserve with autumn foliage in the front and hills in the background. the predominant colour is misty bluePicture caption: small dam on the golf course at the Johannesburg Country Club in Woodmead. The sky is very blue and so is the water.Picture caption: Trees in autumn red and yellow at the Johannesburg Country Club. The sky is a bright blue.
Another crazy week has come to an end. My mother has had a terrible few weeks with blepharitis and severe eye pain. This condition, combined with her chronic dry eye has made her quality of life very poor. She’s been wearing a hat pulled right down over her eyes and the antibiotic cream made her practically blind. Very worrying for me from a fall risk point of view.
I took her to my optometrist at 7.30am this morning (she squeezed her in) and she now has a whole treatment plan to treat both chronic conditions. I’m hoping she will have no pain and be able to read again soon.
TC has also been in India for the last two weeks. He arrives home this afternoon. When he’s not home I have to do everything so life feels even busier than usual.
This is the main reason why my post is late this week but, as I always say, better late than never.
I’ve been learning colour theory for my painting. I am very happy with the results and will share a new painting incorporating my new skills soon. In the meantime, here is a poem about colour theory.
Esther’s challenge for last week was to write about pets. I’m late but never mind, I’m often late. You can read other peoples work and join in Esther’s new challenge here:
Dog Tragedy (shadorma prose)
When I was a girl of twelve we lived on a plot in Honeydew, Johannesburg. It was the second time we lived in this same house as my father had returned to his dream of farming part-time. The property was large with much of the ‘garden’ comprising wild veld grass and scrub bushes. My parents bought two pedigree Great Dane dogs because my mother had always liked this breed and there was a lot of space for them to run about. They were also supposed to be guard dogs but that didn’t pan out well because Harry and Lucy were exceptionally stupid animals. They were a lovely rich light brown colour, with friendly temperaments, and slobbery mouths. I have never been a big fan of slobber but I did like this gangly pair who were always delighted to see me and full of enthusiasm for life.
Some months later, my mother was asked to take another dog. The dog’s family was immigrating and they needed to rehome her. My mother agreed and the new dog soon settled into the family. Her name was Runt and she was partly Chihuahua and partly who knows what. I took a great liking to Runt and she became my dog.
The property adjacent to ours was a working sheep farm. The sheep were even more stupid than Harry and Lucy who took great pleasure in barking madly every time a sheep came into view on the other side of the fence. The sheep never knew what to do about the barking and just stood frozen until the dogs grew bored and moved on to new entertainment. Runt, however, was a clever dog. She also had the instincts of a hunter. Runt took a great interest in the sheep over the fence.
One morning, Harry and Runt were missing when we awoke. We called and called when breakfast was served but no dogs appeared. Eventually, Harry turned up in a bad state. He had been shot in the leg and was bleeding badly. My father had to take him to the vet for treatment. Runt never came home. Later that day, the farmer came to call. Runt had discovered a hole in the fence and she and Harry had wriggled through. Runt had led Harry in an attack on one of the lambs. The farmer, hearing the commotion, had shot at the dogs, killing Runt and injuring Harry. In those days, farmers defended their livestock by shooting any predators which is part of the reason why wild dogs and leopards are so endangered now. I was devastated when I learned the news and I’ve never had another dog since. We were told the lamb had died but there was never any proof of that.
The Arc de Triomphe, is one of the most famous monuments in Paris, France. It is located at the western end of the Champs-Élysées, at the centre of the Place Charles de Gaulle—formerly known as the Place de l’Étoile—named for the star-shaped configuration formed by the convergence of twelve radiating avenues. The monument is situated at the intersection of three arrondissements: the 16th (to the south and west), the 17th (to the north), and the 8th (to the east). Commissioned to honor those who fought and died for France during the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars, the Arc bears the names of French victories and generals engraved on its inner and outer surfaces. Beneath its vault lies the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier from World War I, marked by an eternal flame commemorating unidentified fallen soldiers.
Picture caption: Book Blog Tour Banner for Smothered by B.T. Clearwater
The Giveaway
Leave a comment at each stop to let us know you were here and get an entry for a chance at one of three digitals copies to given away in a random drawing at the end of the tour.
About Smothered, by B.T. Clearwater
Picture caption: Cover of Smothered by B.T. Clearwater
Annie Brown’s life could use some renovation. She’s in trouble at work, her ex-boyfriend is stalking her, and she’s just inherited a dilapidated Victorian home from her late mother, who hasn’t quite moved out yet. The last thing Annie needs in her life is a man, but when handyman Mike Tolbert comes to fix her dishwasher, she lets him demo her doubt.
Mike doesn’t need the distraction of a relationship either. An Iraq War combat veteran and divorcee, Mike suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and is dealing with a manipulative ex. Yet, something about Annie snags his heart and he finds he cannot walk away from her.
Annie’s mother doesn’t approve of their relationship, and she’s willing to cross from the realm of death to that of the living to control her daughter. With the ghost of her mother
haunting them, Mike and Annie face his PTSD, her troubles at work, and a deadly plot to steal her childhood home, all while fighting to keep their love alive.
Excerpt Reading: “Mike’s Flashback” (Chap. 11)
In this excerpt, from Chapter 11, Mike, who is dealing with P.T.S.D., has a flashback to a time when they were under fire and his friend was killed.
B.T. Clearwater grew up writing stories, winning Literary Student of the Year for Lake George Central High School in 1984. He holds a Bachelor’s Degree in English from the University of Nebraska at Omaha, and a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Western State Colorado University, graduating both Summa Cum Laude, and is a two-time alum of the Superstars Writing Seminars run by Kevin J. Anderson. B.T. routinely judges the Zebulon writing contest for Pike’s Peak Writers, and has published fiction under the science fiction, fantasy, romance, western, horror, and crime genres under different pen names. B.T. Clearwater lives in Colorado Springs with a dog, a cat, and a cast of fictional characters for company.
Tour Schedule
Mon. 6/1: Writing to be Read – Reading: Annie’s Opening Scene (Chap. 1)
Tues. 6/2: Roberta Writes – Reading: Mike’s Flashback (Chap. 11)
Wed. 6/3: Undawnted – Interview
Thurs. 6/4: Writing to be Read – Reading: A Ghostly Appearance by Mother Mary (Chap. 10)
Fri. 6/5: Poetry by Mich, Hotel by Masticadores, and Masticadores Phillipines – Reading: Annie and Jason (Chap. 5)
Picture caption: Photography submitted to Dan Antion’s TDWC26 by Yvette Prior.
I spy with my little eye …
something …
but what is it?
“A hartebeest,” says TC
“I disagree. It’s a common tsessebe.”
“A tess… a … what?“
“A tsessebe.”
“There’s no such creature!
Check on your phone.“
“Hmmm! AI says … it’s an elk.”
“What! You don’t get elk in South Africa.“
“I know that. Let me try a different picture.
“Now AI says its a mammal.”
“What kind of mammal?“
“AI doesn’t go into details. It’s just a mammal.”
“Useless AI. It’s having illusions.“
“Not really. A tsessebe is a mammal.”
The two sets of photographs below are of first a hartebeest and second a tsessebe. You can see how similar they look.
Bird of the Week
I took this photograph on Friday at Pilanesberg Game Reserve. TC and I were there for two days to celebrate his birthday which is tomorrow. It’s not the best of my photographs (TC was hogging my camera) but it was such a striking blue that I’m using it for this poem. It’s nice not having to work on a Friday in my new job. If I do have to work on a Friday, I get another day off at a later date so that is very nice for me.