The Runaways!

Bunny In The Cupboard

There is never a dull day when there are kids in the house. There’s always some surprise waiting around the corner. But I’d never encountered any surprises in the kitchen. It’s not a place they frequent unless they are hungry. But with the two younger grandkids, when they were 2 yrs and 3++, I’ve had some lovely discoveries. While we were hunting high and low for some “lost” things upstairs in the bedrooms, family room, and even the dining room, the ‘lost ones’ were up to mischief in the kitchen!

This is what I love about photographs. They dredge up memories and it’s lovely to relive those moments. And if the pics remind you of things like this, it’s so wonderful.

We searched high and low for Myra’s “Bunny bedroom shoes.” We didn’t find them and neither could she. Needless to say, she was quite upset. The next day, I found them cozy and snug on one of the shelves in the (everyday) crockery cupboard. She had no memory of putting it there herself. So we had to agree with her version of how they landed up hobnobbing with the china plates and bowls. “I think they were lost and walked into the cupboard by mistake.”

Reaching Out!

And another day, I walked into the kitchen to see a little glove reaching for an orange. Keen to hear the owner’s explanation, I asked her how it got there or was she trying to reach the oranges, which were out of her reach, using a glove.

“No. Not me Dadi,” she quipped, “it is Zara’s glove! See!”

“I see it, baby. It’s not you at all,” I agreed.

“I told you. Not me,” she beamed.

I enjoyed all five of my little ones to the hilt. And as time passes, the conversations change, and other things draw their time and attention.

They are grown since then… There’s a pre-teen, three eight-year-olds, and the littlest is just five. The conversations have changed. But the love, happiness, and caring just keep growing. They add so much joy and laughter to my days.

Amusement at the Amusement Park

A memory from a few years back popped up when I and the twins were talking about understanding dog “language”! And they were trying to fit words to different barks, grunts, groans, growls, and whines… it was fun and I had tears running down my face as we rolled with laughter. I recalled having posted in WP something about a dog and its owner at an amusement park we had visited about three or four years back. Sharing it here as the memory brings a smile and a chuckle back again.

“We’re going to an Amusement Park this Saturday,” piped the twins.

“Where?

“On an island.”

“An island?”

“Yes. It’s not too far. We’ll be taking a ferry ride.”

“Okaay… How do you have an island with no sea around?”

“It’s a river island.”

Clicked this from the ferry as we approached the Amusement park at Centre Island.

IMG_2289

Satisfied with this info, I wondered what I’d do at the amusement park. To see me on a normal day, of which, thankfully, I have many in the continuum of ‘good’, ‘not-so-good’, ‘better’ days, you’d wonder why I was skeptical about the amount I’d have to walk and the possibility that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the outing.

Well, my condition is quite unpredictable. I could be walking, bending, and doing things normally… and then, just like that, I’d be laid down with a lumbar disc issue which would leave me unable to walk, sit up or even turn myself on my side in bed; not to mention, the excruciating pain. And then, not to be left behind, are a cervical disc and knees that like to surprise me now and then. So every action, even though I am careful, can trigger terrible consequences. Although I am careful, things can go wrong with the most simple turn or bend I make.

So, I decided I’d be the official photographer and resort to people watching to keep occupied and humored. I wasn’t disappointed. One encounter with a young couple and a grandma with her little grandson makes me laugh even now.

I was sitting on a bench and eating nachos while the rest were doing the rounds of a few rides that they had still to go on. A young, Indian couple with a cute little dog, a 5-month-old pup, sat on the bench behind me. I picked up a conversation about the pup. Soon, a granny, whose grandson was crying sought the pup as a good diversion for the little boy; it worked. He stopped crying and she swapped stories with the couple about their respective pets. I returned to my nachos.

Just as I lost interest in their conversation, the grandma turned to leave, her purpose in speaking to them being achieved. The pup began yapping at her as she walked away and she turned and waved to it. It wagged its tail. Then she turned to leave again and it yapped. This drew my attention back to them and I eavesdropped on the conversation that followed. I admit I’m glad I did… I was getting bored!

The young man apologized for his pup’s incessant barking and thought he should explain it like this:

“He doesn’t want you to go. He wants to talk to you.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she said, graciously but eager to move on. However, the young man was not done yet. So she lingered a while longer as he continued.

“But he can’t talk, you see,” he explained, as if he were imparting some unknown fact, “that is why he is barking.”

‘She knows that silly!’ my mind said. I was enjoying this little scene that was playing out before me.

“It seems he likes you and doesn’t want you to go. So sorry,” the young man continued. And tried to pacify the pup that was getting shriller and more agitated.

I wondered, ‘why are you going on and on playing interpreter? It’s a dog. It’s barking. Period!’

“Yes,” chipped in his companion, grinning broadly, “he can’t talk our language, no? So he’s talking in his language.” I thought she was done, but she wasn’t.

“We can understand his language,” she said with a broad grin, nodding her head from side to side, “but everyone can’t understand, you see. So don’t mind that he’s barking at you. He’s actually liking you.”

The smile on the lady’s face was no longer amiable and a glazed look replaced the warm one. I could see that she wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Were they daft or did they presume she was daft? She opted to say nothing.

She nodded her head briskly and walked away with a quicker step dreading, I suppose, that he’d drag the inane conversation further.

I was indeed at the Amusement Park and I’d had a quiet laughter ride with no risk of injury!

Right message, Wrong Address

A bit of humor I found on one of the pages here. Smile, laugh, chuckle. It helped me this morning.

It’s a bright Tuesday outside, but a rather low-energy one for me inside… I’m still trying to figure out what dream it was that gave me a splitting headache and woke me up at an unearthly hour. I know it was a dream but it’s so hazy and not even complete. Sleep thereafter was doze, wake… the headache is gone though my head feels heavy and my eyelids are droopy! I know it’ll pass by early noon. Anyway, here’s the email that made me laugh.

After being nearly snowbound for two weeks last winter, a Seattle man departed for his vacation in Miami Beach, where he was to meet his wife the next day at the conclusion of her business trip to Minneapolis. They were looking forward to pleasant weather and a nice time together.

Unfortunately, there was some sort of mix up at the boarding gate, and the man was told he would have to wait for a later flight. He tried to appeal to a supervisor but was told the airline was not responsible for the problem and it would do no good to complain. Upon arrival at the hotel the next day, he discovered that Miami Beach was having a heat wave, and its weather was almost as uncomfortably hot as Seattle’s was cold. The desk clerk gave him a message that his wife would arrive as planned.

He could hardly wait to get to the pool area to cool off and quickly sent his wife an e-mail, but, due to his haste, he made an error in the address. His message therefore arrived at the home of an elderly preacher’s wife whose even older husband had gone to his reward only the day before. When the grieving widow opened her e-mail, she took one look at the monitor, let out an anguished scream, and fell to the floor dead. Her family rushed to her room where they saw this message on the screen:

Dearest Wife,

Departed yesterday as you know. Just now got checked in. Some confusion at the gate. Appeal was denied. Received confirmation of your arrival tomorrow.

Your Loving Husband,

P.S. Things are not as we thought. You’re going to be surprised at how hot it is down here.

Hope it made you smile if not LOL (laugh out loud).

Farley Defends His Turf -Part 2

The first part of Farley’s adventures, is in a post in which I introduced Farley, the seagull. Read about him here: https://wordpress.com/post/capturedjoyaimshoot.wordpress.com/607

On another day, at Tim’s, I was amused to see how Farley had appropriated that area for himself… his territory, and how he would defend it! I’m glad I could capture it in photos. I do have a short video that I cannot share here.

I espy Farley walking to the garbage bin outside Tim’s. Behind, I see a crow, also eager to forage for food at the same place. Farley hasn’t noticed it yet, or then, chooses to ignore it.

Then he senses movement and knows that the crow is edging into his territory.

He turns around and flies into a rage, literally! The crow is caught unawares and hops away and out of reach.

But Farley isn’t giving up. The crow is certainly intimidated and tries to protect itself. As if it knew it was trespassing.

Once he chases it outside the boundary of his territory, Farley walks back triumphantly to have his lunch. The crow hangs around a little while, not attempting to cross the line but stay at a safe distance. Then it gives up and flies away.

Ever since the pandemic and lockdowns etc. Farley, I’m guessing, gave up eating at his new haunt! Now though this place has opened up, Farley is missing… I miss watching him. Especially how he’d scrape off every bit of mayo that dropped on the sidewalk!

A Different Perspective – a bit of humor

I came across this picture, on the internet. I do not know who clicked it but it was worth sharing. It isn’t uncommon to see words spelled wrong sometimes because the person doesn’t know what the word means and has only heard it. Or then, like this trucker, who obviously knows what he wants to say – ‘Praise the Lord’ – has erroneously praised the ‘load’! Many people who have a limited knowledge of the English language depend on what they hear. The ear decides the spelling. So a lot depends on what they are hearing and accents play a major part in this.

On the other hand, one could assume the person knew what he meant and wrote exactly that – ‘Praise The Load’! From a business point of view, for a truck business, a big load translates to money. Whatever, it is a piece of humor and I’m sharing a laugh or two for this weekend.

“It’s not the load that breaks you down, it’s the way you carry it.” Lou Holtz (Pic: Internet)

I have another one, something I heard at Sunday School…yes, it is an old, old memory! But I still laugh at the example and the play on words. So this is how it went.

A miserly, old businessman was in church one Sunday and was singing ‘Guide me O! thou great Jehovah’ with gusto. And this is how a slip of the tongue totally changed the context of the hymn and fitted perfectly with the image he carried among the people in the community – a Shylock! The verse from the hymn, Guide me O, thou great Jehovah, went like this: (look for the play on a word to get the humor.) 

Hint: What would a miser value most & want to save more than anything else?

“When I tread the verge of Jordan,

Bid my anxious fears subside;

Death of death and hell’s destruction,

Land my safe on Canaan’s shore.

Songs of praises, songs of praises,

I will ever give to thee;

I will ever give to thee.”

{I hope you caught the Freudian slip}

And with that, I’m done. Laugh, chuckle, giggle. Have a good weekend.

Laughter Is The Best Medicine

“A cheerful heart is good medicine…” Proverbs- 17:22

“Overly serious but working on it.”

Oh no, that’s not me! I just read how someone has described herself in her Bio. It made me wonder how someone could be so serious that to laugh and lighten up… get a bit of humor…was something they had to “work on.”

I wouldn’t be able to go through the day without laughter. There is always something that brings it on. A memory, a fumble or silly mistake with hilarious results; a joke, sight or sound, a conversation. Alone or with people, there are so many reasons why I laugh. I am amused by many things. I’m not talking about making fun of someone or ridiculing someone or something… not that kind of laughter. I’m speaking about a pure sense of humor. I even laugh at myself! I do some really funny, silly things and I enjoy a good laugh after.

Some days, I find humor that’s gentle, quiet, and subtle. And other days it could be – ironic, characteristic, delightful, playful, or then, just on point.

On a hunt for some pics to use for an article, I came across some interesting ones. One of an eagle. I saved it. Then I came across one with birds sitting on a wire. I saved it. And then there was one of a bird perched on the head of a statute. I saved that one too. I had no clue what I was going to do with these pics. None of these suited the article! But as I looked at them, subtitles popped into my head. And the article I had planned to write took the back seat as the pictures gave me prompts that reflected my thoughts on myself with a huge dollop of humor. Not the uproarious kind. The on-point kind.

Some days I wake up feeling on top of the world raring to go.

I’m a David, confident of knocking out Goliath!

I’m an eagle, soaring above the earth, just beneath the clouds…the lord of all I survey.

And I step out and meet the hustle and bustle of a typical weekday. I jostle or get jostled in the crowded streets by other ‘Davids’ also headed to face their goliaths.

I am outnumbered.

I feel weighed down and harried.

I feel the gall rising.

My breath quickens, my nostrils flare as my breathing accelerates.

And then… I spread my wings and rise… rise…leaving the flood of human traffic overflowing the streets below.

I leave the flock of pigeons behind. I am Eagle!

“Don’t be afraid of being outnumbered. Eagles fly alone. Pigeons flock together.”

~Unknown
Pic: Ben Lowe on Unsplash

And then, some days, I am the pigeon… preferring to do what my flock does. Go where my flock goes.

Pic: Kristina Tolmacheva on Unsplash

And other days, I am the statue! Low in drive, energy, aimless, cemented. And my get up and go has already got up and gone! I’m stuck. Blank. No joy. No sorrow. Everything’s a no-go.

Pic: Abdul Zreika on Unsplash

“Some days you’re the pigeon and some days you’re the statue!”

~J Andrew Taylor

And then I read something that perks me up with a dollop of humor. One can’t stay down in the dumps after a good laugh! Humor is the best medicine. I got this as a forwarded message on WhatsApp.

Now, I better get out of here. Hunger and humor aren’t the best of friends. It’s not going to be very funny if the lunch is served at tea time!! And humor doesn’t work with ‘hangry’ 8-year-olds!

Why Proof Reading?

I found this picture on someone’s post on Fb about the importance of editing and proofreading after a writer has finished writing.

However, errors do take place, I suppose, as this example shows. I have no idea from which book this has been extracted and who is the author, but I do think that the editor would have been a competent one. Even the best can miss something, sometimes.

I got something in the mail about this. Here it is. It’s the silliest goof up I must say.

Or like here below- a glaring miss by the editor! Let’s see if you catch it on the first read.

“And then Robinson Crusoe stripped naked, swam out to his ship, filled his pockets with biscuits, and swam back to shore….”

“What?” I said, hefting my pack and frowning at the child.

“Nothing,” she said, getting to her feet. “Just an old preHegira book that Uncle Martin used to read to me. He used to say that proofreaders have always been incompetent assholes-even 1400 years ago.”
― Dan Simmons
, Endymion

Or this one… “Amphibious”? Really!! It’s ambidextrous!

It brought back a humorous memory of a three-letter word, ‘doc’ that I had mistyped as ‘Dic’. So the autocorrect on my phone changed it by adding a letter – K, and that ended up making it a ‘name’ I didn’t intend to type. It changed the entire context and meaning of what I was saying. If taken out of context, it would have been shocking, depending on who I was sending it to.

I was chatting with a friend, on WhatsApp, about my health issues and my doc, in particular, who was excellent in his diagnosis and treatment of my ailment. And quite the gentleman to boot! What I wanted to say was, “I’m so lucky to have found such a wonderful Doc!” What I typed was ‘Dic’. And thanks to auto-correct, it became a name that had other connotations. I assume you’ve got the drift! Considering who read it, it turned out to be a rib-tickling joke between us friends.

The autocorrect has free rein to correct what it thinks you are saying because it doesn’t have such a word in its memory bank. Most of us hardly ever proofread what we’ve texted.

I do try to be careful, but I rarely re-read my texts. I don’t believe in overburdening myself because of an over-enthusiastic autocorrect. If it produces a gaffe such as this one, which was hilarious by the way for me and my friend, so be it. I don’t mind the laughs.

Here’s one to wind up. Miss Ippi’s or the place… 🙂

Questions there are no wrong answers to!

When my boys were little boys, there was no end to the questions I had to answer. The Why, What, How, Which, When, and Why not. So at times, I had to actually think about my answers; how to word them, and how much to tell. At other times I’d shoot off some funny reply that would set them laughing, and then there were those days when I’d have to look up an answer to verify my facts!

Many years later, I am back catching questions thrown at me by my granddaughters between the ages of 5-12. With the immense changes that have taken place, and the intelligence today’s kids have due to their exposure to so much of knowledge and information, my answers are questioned for further clarification and often challenged by their opinion (yes, they have opinions)!

Well, I thought I’d ask some questions today that can’t be challenged because there are no wrong answers. Just pure fun and laughter. Or you could even be serious and provoke some serious thought with an answer. It’s your answer and it’s the RIGHT answer!

Don’t worry, the Qs aren’t going to put weight on your gray matter. Nor do you have to refer to any books. But you would need a lot of imagination, a bit of humor, or (decent) crazy (there are boundaries you shouldn’t cross here!). While the questions may, at first, appear kiddish to you, pause a while. Think about it. What if… then just write down your answer/answers in the comments.

What is the nicest “I love you” moment you can recall from this week?

What is the funniest word you’ve ever heard?

When you are tempted to do something you know is wrong, what helps you stand strong and not do it?

Would you have liked to spend 40 days and nights in Noah’s Ark with Noah’s family and the animals? How would you have passed the time?

What day of this past year would you like to live all over again?

If you could be invisible for a day, where would you go and what would you do?

That’s enough for today! I had a great time thinking about the answers. At times I had to choose between two answers, and I liked both equally. Have a nice day!

How Do I Tell Thee?

To me there are three things we should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, think, and cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special...”

Jim Valvano

I often get tongue-tied and at a total loss for words. There have been occasions for which I have rehearsed lines I would like to say, and then, at the right time, when I have to say them, the cat gets my tongue. That speech which I had thought up, yet, I am at a loss for words. I just can’t articulate it when I am overwhelmed and I have to speak.

That’s speech which my mind has put together and not borrowed rhetoric that I should find it hard to recall. But, reticence, nervousness, anxiety, fright, or any such immense emotions play on the mind and tangle up speech. That’s what happens very often to me. Yet, communication doesn’t end there. When words become inadequate to express feelings tears do the job!

I am moved to tears by happiness and extreme joy. I am moved to tears by anything beautiful; an experience, a piece of exquisite music, emotional verses, a story or movie, happy memories, funny things… and also, copious tears express anger, frustration, helplessness, grief. Loneliness seldom moves me to tears, but the memory of good times in sad or lonely moments makes me teary yet happy. I’m moved by gratefulness for those precious moments.

When the mind fails, the heart speaks…through tears. Happy, joyous, funny, tickled, angry, helpless, ecstatic tears speak as eloquently and effectively as words.

These are those silent moments of release…of tears or unshed ones, which may or may not be understood.

“It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer… and everything collapses. ”
― Colette

It brings to mind our dining table talk. I would be the one chattering on the most. The talk was mainly light, and also about the silly/funny incidents that I heard about or that took place at school. I’d ask questions about something to involve the others, my hubby and the boys. But, mostly, it was I who was doing the talking.

I didn’t realize how much my news, anecdotes, jokes about my daily experiences meant to the family, especially my hubs.

On an odd day, I’d be too tired or preoccupied with an overload of school related stuff that I had to see to, and I’d be quieter… not absolutely quiet… just less talkative than other days. It was on one such day that I got to know how much my chatter at the table enlivened our meal time together.

I was chewing my food contemplatively; I must have spoken the few usual words – Have some more of this or that. Do want more rotis? Like to have some rice? How was school? How was work? Did you…this or that… I was engrossed in my schoolwork plans and totally unaware of how the sound of silence hung over the table gloomily as the three boys chomped on their food.

“Are you okay?” The question broke into my thoughts.

I looked at David with raised brows and question marks dancing in my eyes.

“I mean, you are so quiet today. Did something happen in school? Is everything alright? Are you feeling well?” The questions poured out one over the other. And he did look very concerned.

“Yes,” I answered giving him that quizzical ‘what’s wrong with you’ look. “Why do you ask?” I continued.

“You aren’t saying much. You are unusually quiet. Tell me, did something happen in school?”

“No, nothing unusual or horrible happened in school. It was a normal day. It’s just that the Annual Function is coming up and I’m totally in charge of the whole thing and I have some ideas to change the way they’ve been presenting the show for the past so many years. I also have a play I’m directing which is absolutely different from what they’ve been doing. What’s more I’ve decided to do a Hindi version of the play Snow White and the seven dwarfs. I’ve got to get it translated by the Hindi teacher, check if it’s done the way I want it, simple everyday Hindi which everyone can understand, and then select the cast etc. Props need to be made. Opening presentation which I want to change too…so many things!”

By the time I was done with this explanation, I noticed he was laughing his silent laugh, his eyes were dancing with joy, and he was enjoying his food.

“What?” I said knitting my brows though a smile played on my lips.

“Nothing. Keep going. What else do you have to do? Can I help? Just keep talking.”

“What do you mean? What’s tickling you so much? Have I missed something?”

“No. You haven’t “missed” anything, but I was missing something… the joy you bring to the table with your small talk and laughter. It’s not the same when you are quiet. The whole eating experience changes when it’s not garnished with conversations and laughter; your stories and humor.”

I beamed a radiant smile as the tear ducts opened. I blinked the tears back. I had no idea how much my chatter lent to the family meal and what it meant to them… especially HIM! I was drenched in the sunshine and warmth of family love and joy!

“So keep talking sweetheart. Keep regaling us with your stories and jokes, don’t keep quiet, please.”

I couldn’t say anything… the smile and the withheld tears said all that I wanted to say – I was overjoyed.

However, I wanted to say something more… I needed him to know that I need my silence very much. I needed him to understand these silent phases. I wanted to ask him to understand my silence too. Not just for issues at work or on the domestic scene. I needed to be quiet within myself. For myself. With thoughts that had nothing to do with the outside world. I needed to be quiet for my soul. I wanted him to understand this. I wanted to say –

But if you don’t understand my silences, how will you understand my words?

– but I couldn’t.

I let myself drown in the pleasurable warmth of a family sobremesa. Ours starts not at the end of the meal but at the start and carries on through the meal! I’ll break my silence here.

I will be silent another time. I’ll silence the cacophony in my mind. My silences are for me as much as it is for my home and family. I will be silent for myself.

Rangaswamy’s Ode To The Tiger

Scrolling through the archives of saved articles, pictures, etc., I came across this wonderful, humorous poem that was published on Fb. some years ago, actually, 2018. Thought I’d share it. A bit of humor on a Friday morning to celebrate the approaching weekend. The title of the poem, RANGASWAMY’S ODE TO THE TIGER is given by Kerry Edwards.

rishabh-pandoh–iZV3CqT7LM-unsplash

Deep in jungle I am went

On shooting Tiger I am bent

Bugger Tiger has eaten my wife

No doubt I avenge poor darling’s life

Too much quiet, snakes and leeches

But am not feared these sons of beeches

Hearing loud noise I jump with start

But noise is coming from damn fool heart

Taking care not to be fright

I am clutching rifle with eye to sight

Should Tiger come I will fall him down

Then like hero return to native town

Then through trees I am espying one cave

I am telling self, “Rangaswamy be brave.”

I now proceed with too much care

From nonsense smell this Tiger’s lair

My leg is shake, I start to pray

I think I shoot Tiger some other day

Turning round I am going to go

But Tiger giving bloody roar

He bounding from cave like shooting star

I commend my soul to Kali Ma

Through the jungle I am went

Like bullet with Tiger hot on scent

Mighty Tiger rave and rant

Rangaswamy s*** in pant!

Must to therefore leave the jungle

Killing Tiger one big bungle!!

I am telling that never in life

I will risk again for damn fool wife.

-Author Anon