It seems as if our friend Daily Prompt has had some type of family drama occur this past weekend. Perhaps it was the Thanksgiving holiday, if Daily Prompt celebrates, that led to this question of loyalty among people. Did Daily Prompt experience a falling out? I suppose we will never know, but I hope Daily Prompt returns to us tomorrow with spirits renewed.
Here’s an old photo of my cat, Bubba. Because cats make everything better. Feel better soon, Daily Prompt.
Kitty – the First AcquisitionBowser (Bowsie) – the Second Acquisition Mama Kitty – Third Acquisition with *bonus* Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Acquisitions included inside Bubba – the Fourth Acquisition – my best friend and his cat family’s source of exasperation Susie – the Fifth Acquisition Rafa – the Sixth Acquisition “Will” – the Bonus Acquisitions’ father (we think) Star – Not My Cat ™️
If you could meet a historical figure, who would it be and why?
I want to know why her sister Cassandra destroyed all of their letters to each other, and if Jane’s novels were based on true stories. I want to know if she was proposed to, and if she denied her suitor because she was fiercely independent, or for another reason. I also want to know how she died. Was it Addison’s disease? Lymphoma? I would like to sit down and have a cup of tea, a scone, and a chat with Jane. I’d like her opinion on the casting of Mr. Darcy over the years. I kind of think that she would agree with me that Colin Firth is the only true Mr. Darcy, but I need definitive confirmation on that from Ms. Austen.
One is born with instincts. Intuition is learned. Intuition would therefore be more likely to be trustworthy. But even then, one can’t make decisions based on intuition alone. Do I trust my intuition to make decisions? Partially, but intuition doesn’t get the full say here. We’ve got to look at facts and reasoning and all that higher level thinking stuff, as well.
Green grass under my feet, warm winds swirling about my head, making my hair dance. Lightning bugs. Daylight extending into evening, cicadas, all the flowers in bloom with bumblebees and honeybees and tough but harmless carpenter bees swirling about. Memories of previous Julys spent helping in the garden, digging in the sand at the beach, hanging laundry on clotheslines in the backyard. The feel of heat as a blanket wrapped around the body. The toes never get chilled. The fingers never feel like ice. Socks are not even a thought. Clothing is one layer, not twelve. Fall and winter are distant, disruptive thoughts. July is memory of warmth as the sun smiles at you from two feet away.
What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?
Mondays have a notorious reputation, which I have found most weeks to be a correct assessment of the day. I can’t explain this phenomenon, but Monday front loads most of the issues of the week and makes them unavoidable, rarely ever seen on another weekday.
I’ve tried to take Monday off, so that Tuesday is the new Monday, but Monday will have none of it. Skipping Monday to try to do Tuesday first does nothing but bring Monday types of problems and situations to an innocent day.
Monday never disappoints in its sheer audacity to present conundrums and issues that would cause any other day of the week to run and hide.
Mondays are made for things that could’ve been said in an email and multiple synchronous situations that can only be described as, “What the hell is this crap?”
Skipping this routine called Monday is impossible. You will find a smug Monday on a naive Tuesday if you try to skip it. It’s better to go with the flow, and by flow, I mean your piping will burst on a Monday when it was fine on a Sunday, and will be fixed by a Tuesday, but I digress…