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Boulder climber
in the midst of a metaphysical adventure
Jan 17, 2014 - 12:06am PT
goodnight neebs, have good dreams.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 17, 2014 - 02:39am PT
'I never win any of these contests.'

I won't play Born to Lose, because I'm a Loser Baby, myself, time to time.

And besides, I'm positively posting, now, too.

Not exclusively, just sort of absolutely not doing negative posts.

A battery of dreams, eh? Are they paralleling mine? I don't know what that would entail, frankly, but there are parallels between CV and Merced, QED.

Are there dream warps? If so, like in galactic hitchhiking there are time warps and worm holes, are there shape-changers, dimension blenders, zones of enlightenment and zones of terror? Where are they capable of taking us?

Why do we always seem to come back to white, not black?
Dream Maker, Dream Faker, Dream Taker, Dream Catcher, Dream Dreamer.
Dream Maker, Dream Faker, Dream Taker, Dream Catcher, Dream Dreamer.
Credit: mouse from merced
Or hot pink?

Not the bike, just the spindle to the rear wheel hub. Screws right out, but they can't steel the wheel cuz of the chain. Walking is the Flames' thing, anyhoo.

mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 17, 2014 - 10:10am PT
Credit: mouse from merced

Outside the musical context, the Spanish word flamenco can mean "flamingo"-–referring to the bird, but originally meaning "flame-coloured"–-but also "Flemish," as in referral to the Ned Flanders.

I knew a Mike Fleming years ago. I have a picture somewhere which I love showing him and my Big Bother Mike standing in the rain over a dampfire trying to stay cool while sipping coffee.

To flemish a rope, that's something all good sailors do. I'm not a good sailor. I think it means to flake out, but I'm lying, it means to pretty it all up if it's rope spaghetti. Ask Tony or Bobby.

I have a thing I gotta go do.

Credit: mouse from merced

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Jan 17, 2014 - 10:23am PT
It has something to do with contrasts, I believe. Either that or the Yin and the Yang of it all. Or it could just be the trees.

Like I said though, I never win any of these contests.

Sometimes even a little off-color helps.

All this speculation does get me to wondering though and the first thing that pops into mind is:

What is the opposite of wind chime?

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Jan 17, 2014 - 10:48am PT
In keeping with the new trend of The Flames and since I don't usually do positive reviews. Here is a great product. I cleaned my malfunctioning furnace with this (gas, electric, the whole works (be sure to unplug electrical and turn off gas first)) and it now works like a charm.

Elimina Polvo Y Pelusa

Credit: zBrown

EDIT: Works great on keyboards (the computer kind) too. Gets all those cookie, cracker & pretzel crumbs right outa the grooves.

TV clicker on deck.

BTW did you see my new (early 1900's) African carving?
Credit: zBrown

Was thinking of a contest to i.d. her, but I never ...
Ron Anderson

Trad climber
Relic MilkEye and grandpoobah of HBRKRNH
Jan 17, 2014 - 11:03am PT
is this the last bastion of civility?
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 17, 2014 - 11:30am PT
('don't' call him 'brown'),
i called u zeepster.
i meant zeebster.
may u copa with-a my blunder
i'm-a sorry for your-a agony
i'm-a bit unnerved
witless in gazing sunward
no moonward
no sun word
it's just-a chinatown, jack

i saw the good moon a-settin'
just after the sun came up
who's being unfaithful to whom
is it the sun
is it the moon
what happened to the question marks
exclamation pointless
literature devises
what mouse espies sez THEM
wheel c about THAT
what works works works wonders
THEY are tearing up the place
it's a dawn novello world
vatican i do?
Aha! Back in business, I C.

I used to watch way too much telebishion.

What Poetry Works
Maynard G. Rebs

What works for some can work for many.
I’m just sittin’, not gettin’ any,
(Not THAT!)
Jobs, that is.

If I thought of labor (yuck), I’d cringe all day,
I’d idle my thoughts, so I’d sooner pay.
Two pennies.

If I (you know) at (that) while wifey sat
Dancing and lying on yoga mat,
Frankly, Zelda,
I’d be bummed.

I’ve no more to say, it’s too much like (ugh!),
I think my thoughts, cats, chicks, you’ve dug--
Like, ditty litter,
From Merced.

Credit: mouse from merced
Credit: mouse from merced
Oh, what a lucky mouse he was.  Another day another collar.  God bless...
Oh, what a lucky mouse he was. Another day another collar. God bless the sun and the moon. I've stolen each other's souls!
Credit: mouse from merced
I'm wishing the best for you this morning.

Good morning.  Good morning.  Good night.  Good night.  The best to yo...
Good morning. Good morning. Good night. Good night. The best to you each second of every day and night. It's too much for which to hope, though.
Credit: mouse from merced
A Friday morning
It feels like a Sunday in some ways

This is a song for a little bird from whom I heard
an encouraging word
early this morning/late last night/this morning.

Whaddya want, it's Berzerkeley, the model city.

coffee on
milk's gone
such a good life
and it's fading

FLAME ON, Amyjo!
A la juerga, chiquita!
It feels like a Friday night in some ways.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 17, 2014 - 11:51am PT
The last bastion that asked that question ended up in the Trophy Room Bar, now known as Miller's Reinero's.

Have you Ronged anyone today?

Two Rons walked out of the Trophy Room.

One asked, "Which way do we go?"

They started arguing, leading to the conclusion two which you may eventually come to.

Prep school is not grammar school.

Many preps look like big bastions.

They are inhabited largely by Little Lord Bastions.

They are headed for the wall, dontcha know.
I can't bear the guilt!  I've offended someone on the internet!
I can't bear the guilt! I've offended someone on the internet!
Credit: mouse from merced
If I were the last bastion, would I inherit the wind?
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 17, 2014 - 01:13pm PT
"Good night! Say grace, Dale! We're all starving here. Please."

Grace: simple elegance or refinement of movement/finesse/poise/elegance

Grace and Dale.
Grace and Dale.
Credit: mouse from merced
Dale and Grace.
Dale and Grace.
Credit: mouse from merced
Leaving It Up To You
Stop & Think It Over
Bad Luck
Love Is Strange

"Oh, Grace, how do you call me?"

"Dear Sir?"

"Oh, baby!"

A nice warm western greeting for Grace and Dale, ladies first.

Love is strange. Gee, it's so wonderful. Call my name. I'll break into a sweet sweet sweat, Sweatheart.

American Bandstand was the last bastion of rock civility.

Ask yourself,
"What direction is down when it’s all up to you?"

What happened to Spearmint? I'm not "Cert-ain." Or was that Doublemint? Is it live or is it Memorex?

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Jan 17, 2014 - 03:03pm PT
Interesting that you'd put up that song, Michele's favoritie

but Mickey & Silvia

Run and get a bucket
Get the baby some beer

neebee's cat and friends
neebee's cat and friends
Credit: zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Jan 17, 2014 - 03:14pm PT
Take a whiff on me, Fanny


Social climber
Jan 17, 2014 - 03:50pm PT
hey there say, feralfae, thank you for the wishes!

ATTENTION ALL, AND NOTE--NEEBEE taking up flame-space here... you may scroll by, if
one needs to... :)

YES--had a good important dream, actually, i reckon all the flames will like it to:

as, they have walked many trails... the taco climber, would like it too, but it does not need a thread, :)) they will find it here:

dream was:
back in the old 'house situation' (houses, in my dreams, always stand for situations, whether past, transitional, or present or future...

well, was trying to make the 'most of it' tacking up nice pictures, etc, on the wall, but the wall was 'weak' in this area... why, i wonder?? so then, as it breaks open, i see that there is another room:
(which always means, in my dreams, 'something being revealed that i was not aware of) ... well, man oh man, there sat:

in the midst of the thinner, long dark hollowed out wall, a hidden room... and there was a wild cat and some bugs, running along the wall, but more serious was: a sullen forlorn thin older man, who SAT hidden in the darkness...
(men, woman, children, etc, always mean 'an active or future/past active part of a situation) --well, i was WORRIED to see this! having it hidden there, and how could he have gotten in? so, i got my (now ex) who was always the one that checked on 'technical' house fixes, though only in emergencies... well, he checked all the doors, and all the locks were fine, and he then, at my insistence, went in to see how he got there...

(this is important, as, my now ex, never wanted to solve emotional things--not to speak bad of him, but to make the point of the dream--i was determined to find out what the 'danger' was, even if i had to get someone's help, even if that someone had no clue or desire)(a good fix, is a good 'fasting' we may not have a 'stomach desire to do' but if we push for it, we get the clues...

well, the 'sullen man' said he got in through the garage (as do cats, bugs, etc) and thus, that is an open door from garage to house, that don't watch over much--at times (not always, but at times)...

so then, the 'man' had to leave, and did without a scabble--due to the 'fix' (which i personally feel was the 'fasting')...

and later, folks on the street found that the 'man' had through his own self, died off, on the street...

that 'man' --being the feeling of HOPELESSNESS AND DEEP FORLORNNESS, at being able to DO anything, :(

that is how i felt about my daddy... and, i am always so upbeat, which i LEARNED TO BE from my folks, and from god, after all the bad situations in my marriage...

wow, and oh my! i had found a hidden room of hopelessness!!!!
and it was FOUND now, in my dream and i felt so free from it!!

pretty neat, huh, feralfae! and there you have it!!
i DID HAVE SWEET DREAMS... WELL, they were odd and mysterious for a few minutes, 'til i solved it when the 'man' was out...

oddly enough, the folks that found the man were very shocked that anyone could be free from his 'presence' once he HOLES up and hides...

and this man, was fairly old--which GOES TO SHOW:
excessive sorrow...

can grow over the years and get really established and hard to ever be free of--it sure is good, as we check our lives, daily, and get these
roots out...

i never had been feeling hopeless about my folks, before...
as we all know: they are there since our childhood... and we trust that they are well...

well, us older folks now, are in this precarious positions where:
someday they will not be...

not knowing if it was near the end, for my daddy, was very hopeless and a forlorn thing on my heart... :(

the fasting was not to FIX me though... it was for to help in back, for all the help that he gave me...

and--thanks to god, for his birthday, he was more alert and got to see many of our family...

i hope this help bring him to healing, i hope and pray so much...
i also, had a dream about rescuing a rabbit, oddly, one that folks though was not having a chance... and someone had just abandoned a rabbit, here in our local town...

i like to hope, though i won't know until later, that my daddy, the rabbit, in this case, will not be abandoned, and will have more time with us...

only god knows... and for each day that my daddy feels better, i am not forlorn, anymore...

wow, mouse:

did i FLAME UP your flames?
hope not too bad, but, special farelfae hoped for good dreams, :))

i DO remember all the post that you 'spilled from heart' when your
boomer died...

so this i my spill, today...

perhaps from your fast, as well,
climbers work AS A TEAM...

AS WELL as good ranchers...

thanks for letting me 'climb through here' today...
i am on a nice wide solid ledge, at the moment,
and surveying the vast meadows, and will hope to
work the trail downward, to see the meadow in a close-up
view next, as thing for my daddy start to grow well...

it is in the doctors hands, and in god's hands, and that
is the update... :)
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 17, 2014 - 06:53pm PT
O! Big Daddy, may the Flames burn in the Campfire
If the Nakedness of our City is not revealed.

Lo! Flames Mama, may the Dreamcatchers you hire
Stay alert, so we can awake fully healed.

I recall this conversation.
I think I had the same kind of dream.
But I only woke after my nap just now,
Thinking, like we sometimes do.
It's best not to think, just to do,
But without studying "the dream"
You should not. This is the job of the shaman.
The wise woman knows to trust the shaman.
He will teach her over her lifetime.
She has the key to sleep.
He has the key to understanding.
They are a team of local scientists,
Making a study, checking it out,
Making our city a better place to live in.
Maybe I had the dream in Birmingham.
Maybe it was about SF, Boston, Denver or Seattle.
National City? Muskegon? Chico?
I don't know. I forgot to write it down
And now can't remember it.

This is like wakening a second time.
Like two sunrises on the same trip out the front window of the bus.
For neebee, a big string of plus signs
Minus the postage, which is zero, so there you have it, folks:

The Flames version of the parallelograph.
Brought to you by Three Brothers and Sisterss Coffee and Donuts Company.

Keep on dunking, Mr. Jones,
In spite of the full court press,
Your team mates just sacrificed the Queen's bishop
And you are now on the way to victory.

mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 17, 2014 - 07:00pm PT
There is the Jefferson Airplane and their White Rabbit.

There is this, more modern White Rabbit.
Egypt Central are "The Decider's" favorite band, be leaves or not. He thinks they are "treemendiss, dude."

Truth is, he's confusing them with a band from South Central, Central South.

He is and always will be a Harvard-educated idiot.

GWB has an engagement coming up on "The Following." A cameo. Continue.

Keep pullling it out of my butt, putting it in the hat, pulling it out, amazing my friends, hopefully confounding my one enemy, and then going back for more Waldoh! Salad.

may yo nays turn into yays
your cardinals into popes
may your wishes all be horses
may you live to see your hopes
turn into joy
i got my new shoes, Roy

CosmicCraftsman sent the Fires of the Mouse to his house and they are resurrected from the tread, er, sole.

Credit: mouse from merced
Good thing I am not fasting with neebee. I did, though. As I told her, I was snapping a shot, had on my old vest, and there are "iron rations" in a pocket. I caught myself popping M&M pretzel balls and before it occurred to me I was breaking fast.

I'm glad that she shared. Fair is fair. THIS IS NOT "MY" THREAD, U KNO.

Nobody takes up space or even wastes a skosh of bandwidth here any longer.

We have been good kids this last year. Santa knows. U know.

What more could you ask for? Good grammar, besides.

neebee is not just a painter of dreamcatchers, but a painter of word pix.


Jan 17, 2014 - 07:41pm PT
They started arguing, leading to the conclusion two which you may eventually come to.

So I'm guessing the two Rons didn't make a right?

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Jan 17, 2014 - 08:28pm PT
"Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe"

Nothing's gonna change my world.

Am I just getting old?


The Granite State.
Jan 17, 2014 - 11:41pm PT

my essence runs deep
it envelopes me and you
[diverging from haiku}
I run through the forest
naked and alone
charging through the pine duff
Along I charge, yearning,
wanting only to be better
to see the unseeable
I run faster, striving to encounter the unknown
I transcend pain, and then,
I run faster yet
Still, you are not there
yet I know you are close
I search relentlessly
My feet are fleet, and I glimpse
a vision of ephemeral beauty
in the forest before me
It is you, naked and raw
the most beautiful vision
and I know I will find you
Onward I push
through the arboreal maze
Until I find only
A trace of you
I retreat
Wishing only to steal a vision of you
again, as a mere image of you sates me.
Ricardo Cabeza

Jan 18, 2014 - 12:11am PT
A murder of crows, if you know who created this're in the k...
A murder of crows, if you know who created this're in the know.
Credit: Ricardo Cabeza

Says it all.
Says it all.
Credit: Ricardo Cabeza
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 18, 2014 - 12:12am PT
Essay on Commandment IV
Where doth civility start?

Chief reference this time:
How Many Slings and How Many Arrows: Life’s a Rack of Hard Wear
How to Play Talus Golf, Raise Pigs, and Clean Up After Your Partner
by B. Tuppin
(that's gonna have to do for citations--this ain't no party, this ain't no Wiki, but we ain't just foolin' around)

Always begin with a short poem.--Sr. Mary Justine on reading to her class for their edification, though when she had no poem, she read the one from the day before, so...

My dad was an iron man.
He really liked the wedges.
I was a child of the rock.
I really liked the ledges.

Boomer golfed while his roamin’ son climbed.
I much preferred the shorter Lost Arrows, also, to the longer ones.
One held my fall on the brow of the Salathe Wall.
I had beat the crap out of it in a bottoming crack, then tied it off.

His sand wedge won him a lot of nidgies.
He collected lots of quarter bets from his “sandy” pars.
Sandy, like in bunker, like in Archie, his favorite character.

I never explained to him about tying off short the longer pins. He likely took it for granted that they only worked if you whaled on them. I suspect his Pop, Grampa Bill, was like that. But since he knew tools, equipment, and practical shop things, he also knew that inanimate objects don’t respond to abuse and blue language, though his workshop was mighty loud with other colors, you might say. He didn’t smoke, he chewed. He didn’t smoke, he burst into flame and that was over and that was that. He always seemed to get the job done.

Like Pop, like Kid.
Monkey see, monkey do.
Like oak, like acorn.
I did it, so should you.

I understand that concept as it’s the root of prejudice.
He understood beating something with a belt or coat hanger, namely his kids’ bottoms.
I used to lose it with my dog Frank and he suffered for my lack of understanding.
I understood how to place a delicate stack of pins and work it for upwards mobility.
He loved to take his time lining up his putts, kissing my mom.
Delicate and brutal, that’s humanity in a nutshell.
Humanity is also learning from one’s mistakes, and the mistakes of others.

O! how often we fail
To follow the trail
That others have blazed
Because we have lazed.

The dean of men at St. Mary’s, Cassian, told me that youth doesn’t heed vicarious advice but learns best from experiment and loss and failure.
He told me to read the bios of great men.
I stayed away from the library that semester and the next.
I failed to listen, but that is water under the bridge of God’s plan.
Dad gave me much advice to which I never paid any attention, and some to which I still adhere.
He called his dad “Pop.” I thought it had a snappy sound, but he was still Dad.
He had a fine tenor voice.
His granddaughter through me is named Bevin, the Melodious Lady.
His language was poetic, at times, also.

“Never up, never in.”
“Boozers are losers.”
“Geeze, Edith, you missed that little putt?”
“When your partner’s hitting, freeze, as#@&%e.”

I wondered what a dialectic was so I asked Dad.
He said look it up.
He did not say he did not know what it was.
He told me to look it up on my own.
He forced me to learn.
He spelled everything that Mom asked him,
though she was an educated woman,
moreso than he.
He never told her to look it up.

She asked,
he complied.
They’re always right,
He often sighed.

O! the dialectic! That misunderstood mystical thing.
I have formed my opinions on investigating
Truth versus lies on the putting green of life
Mostly I just go on the word of the wife.

That, I MAYBE should have listened to.

Frank/That’s Life

David Lee/That’s Life

He never quit living when Mom died.
He kept up with golf, he played bridge, but he did not have another lady in his life.
We're the same in many ways.
And different.
It was fun to have known him.

Thanks for all you shares, guys and girls.

My thoughts tonight have included nita's and Anastasia's and T Hocking's and Ron's and the Rev's and neebee's respective dads and their kids whom I cherish beyond belief.

And to zBrown, how's the Bull doin'? Our collective gesture of respect to Michele's pop and to her, too.


The Granite State.
Jan 18, 2014 - 12:29am PT
Mouse, this was my meager contribution to your ongoing thread.

Much love.
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