Don't you love GREAT MOVIES followed by a GREAT NEW RESTAURANT? Poem: Prayer for the Depressed - Poem: The Peach Tree

Hopefully anudder mobile will adorn the ceiling.

While listening to Carmina Burana - thanks Dear Dead Dad - for introducing it to our family - I sat on the floor in my Art Room and glued the mobile together.

Moved to red couch with whirling fan to keep me cool while bloggin.

Nail polish is from Jazz Cruise back in February. Believe it or not, Ripley.

Next door neighbor Eileen and I saw a fab movie earlier today.


A Man Called Ove. The Swedish subtitles were easy to read. I brought my driving glasses the better to see with, my dear.




I read the Roger Ebert review before going. Rave review.

Then we went to a vegetarian restaurant right across the street. Everything but the olive oil was home made including the hummus and pita bread.

Leftovers. Hummus on left. Pita bread on right.

Hey Mom! What time is dinner served?

The two owners are from Israel. The shop has been open for two months. I did like it on FB.

PRAYER FOR THOSE IN THE DEPTHS OF DEPRESSION

What a beautiful sunshiney day.
But not if you're in the depths of depression.

Listen to the songbirds at play in back yards
and on dew-dropped front lawns

But not if you're in the depths of depression.

You dwell in darkness
like the darkest black hole.

You've fallen down an abyss and there you stay
Longing to see the light.

Every day you wake up with hope
But you cringe when you realize
the depression envelopes your being
mummifying you.

A little while longer, a little while longer.
Keep the faith, pray, call your friends for succor
and never give up.

People will hold your hand until one day
Deliverance is yours.

 Hello Lil Peach Tree

 Ooh! kootchie kootchie koo, baby peach!

Lovely tall weed with bright dandelion-like blossoms during the day. Must ask Beatriz what dis is!

OUR PEACH TREE

Nearly as tall as a two-story
house, it snuggles against
the chicken wire that protects it
from those who seek to devour our darlings:

Squirrels with puffed up cheeks
and beady rat's eyes
squawking blue jays who think
the whole world is theirs

I pause and like caged Hansel
stick my fingers through the
netting, there to feel the
ear-soft fuzz and stony-hardness
of the fruit

When I enter my kitchen
a latticed peach pie
sits cooling, steam
rising in the air, as I
pull out Tanner's vanilla
ice cream from the freezer.

Good Lord! What could be better.