Michele Lee Sefton's Blog, page 24

a Saturday in Dublin

“The Tuesday scowls, the Wednesday growls, the Thursday curses, the Friday howls, the Saturday snores, the Sunday yawns, the Monday morns, the Monday morns. The whacks, the moans, the cracks, the groans, the welts, the squeaks, the belts, the shrieks, the pricks, the prayers, the kicks, the tears, the skelps, and the yelps.”
― Samuel Beckett, Watt

“Every life is in many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves.”
― James Joyce, Ulysses

My featured photo is of Trinity College, “officially The College of the Holy and Undivided Trinity of Queen Elizabeth near Dublin, is the sole constituent college of the University of Dublin, Ireland” (tcd.ie). Irish writers Beckett (3 April 1906 – 22 December 1989) and Joyce (2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941) were both born in Dublin and Beckett attended Trinity.  

Thank you to poet Melissa Lemay for her interest in my banana bread recipe, following her post, “Grocery Shopping is an Olympic Sport.” The recipe, that I typically modify, is from my longtime go-to Pillsbury cookbook. Her kind request inspired me to make banana bread last night, with my last two bananas on their last day. Perfect! Thanks for stopping by. Michele

my Dublin photos of Trinity College and shopping area taken July 2023

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

The pleasure of leftovers

To the back of the freezer, I did reach
for something homemade to reheat
sealed tight, the options were plenty
last night’s meal enhanced, reimagined
waking my senses and saving money

summer’s heat invites a retreat from the dangerous
my kitchen heats up but the results are delicious

I know people who don’t care for leftovers
turning a nose to the endless possibilities
even dismissing a take-home box for what’s uneaten
I don’t know what is wrong with these people
wasting food, wasting money, wasting potential

Don’t they know how delightful it can be
to reach into the freezer on a hot summer day
linger in the chill and let the imagination play

Cooling it down, however I can with rising heat and cloudless skies. Losing the layers, lingering in the freezer, and revisiting winter photos, never shared. Thanks for stopping by. Michele

featured photo of a woman surrounded by icicles by muratart / my winter photos of a rare morning fog, taken December ’23 during a morning ride passed a manmade lake

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

Together we fly, she and I

My bike, my loyal mare
city sidewalks stretched before us
            become hills, rolling
park lawns, to greener pastures transformed
waking humans being walked by dogs,
            my early morning comrades

with nods, hellos, and mud splatters behind,
                        fast and strong we fly
toward a mystical horizon, burning away yesterdays

My mare, a few more miles
            my spirit reborn

Happy Friday y’all. Giddy up! Michele

my photos, sunrise (July 12th)

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

Or-ee-gone

“When I say it’s you I like, I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.”
― Fred Rogers

“Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart”
― Eleanor Roosevelt

My Oregon girls are pulling at my heart this morning, including my grandcats who love to wake me with a morning cuddle when I am visiting. I am missing them and the gorgeous flowers, but I am looking forward to the fall when I can once again dance through the leaves and give my girls, and one very tall boy, a big squeeze.

A note for those who might be new to my blog. For starters, welcome, I am honored by your readership. One of my friends (since 2nd grade), Patricia (in photo), moved to the same Oregon area as my daughter Sammi, who moved to Oregon a few years ago to attend the University of Oregon. Go Ducks! She graduated with a degree in art and technology and is a busy artist and graphic designer. She and her (tall) boyfriend recently purchased their first home and are busy settling in and getting the guest room ready for me. I am hoping that I will be able to help her plant the tulip bulbs I ordered from Holland, that should be arriving about the same time I do. Thank you for joining me for a forever friend and mom moment. Michele

my Oregon photos taken last summer / photos of me and Patricia taken by her last fall

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

Serving iced-tea and poetry (w/audio)

With the sun rising behind me, I had the pleasure of reading three poems this morning, written by three talented poets: Ingrid Wilson, Khaya Ronkainen, and Cheryl Batavia. Their poetry collections have offered a lovely respite from summer’s intensity. Please visit their author bios below and if not familiar with their work I encourage you to visit their sites and learn more. Thank you for stopping by! Michele

Ingrid Wilson is the founder and editor of Experiments in Fiction, an independent publisher specializing in poetry, fiction and memoir. She has published a total of ten authors, many of whom have become Amazon bestsellers. Her own publications include 40 Poems At 40 (2022); Archery In The UK (with Nick Reeves, 2023); and To Catch A Poem (2023). She is currently working on a Literary and Arts magazine, New Lyricist, with co-editor Nick Reeves. The first issue is due for publication in summer 2024. To Catch a Poem by Ingrid Wilson

Khaya Ronkainen is a South African-Finnish poet, essayist, editor, and independent author. Her work explores nature, immigrant life, beauty, aging, and women’s health. She has written three poetry collections and is now working on a prose project. Learn more about her work at www.khayaronkainen.fi. The Sheltering by Khaya Ronkainen

A retired teacher and mother of three children, Cheryl Batavia lives on the Gulf Coast of Florida with her soul mate, Robert. Her favorite pastimes include watching movies, playing Scrabble, discussing current events, going to the beach, and observing the beautiful wildlife of SW Florida. Cheryl writes poems about life, love, family, nature, and environmental issues. Earthly Days by Cheryl Batavia

Note: My sincerest apologies to Khaya for mispronouncing the word “chibuku” ~ hopefully my randomly adding a few letters gives her a chuckle. I would have done a second take, but my phone was getting hot. Already 90 degrees just before 8 AM. Today is expected to be 112 degrees.

featured photo of hands and two birds by PopTika / my morning porch photos featuring poetry collections

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

Breaking through the glass

While crowds were gathering upstairs, pushing and clamoring like hungry carp during a frenzied feeding, for one chance at a crooked shot of a priceless painting, guarded, I was downstairs, with room to spare, appreciating how many layers women have shed through the years – how far we’ve come.

If it weighs me down, I am not putting it on.

A cool morning breeze blew away the lingering sulfur scent from last night’s fireworks displays. Once designated and limited to community gatherings, lit by professionals in fields distanced from onlookers, now can be seen and heard in neighborhoods across the Valley of the Sun. Dogs barking, car alarms blaring, and sirens wailing – the sounds of independence, I reckon. Thanks for stopping by. Michele

my undergarment exhibit photos taken at Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam / yoga photos by Billion Photos & Chokniti-Studio

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

Painted pebbles a stone’s throw from the beach

“I’ve dropped my pebble in the ocean, and hopefully; throughout the course of the day; millions of others will drop theirs in too. No single one of us knows which pebble causes the wave to crest, but each of us, quite rightly, believes that it might be ours; an act of faith.” ― Michael J. Fox

“Nothing like poetry when you lie awake at night. It keeps the old brain limber. It washes away the mud and sand that keeps on blocking up the bends. Like waves to make the pebbles dance on my old floors. And turn them into rubies and jacinths; or at any rate, good imitations.” ― Joyce Cary, The Horse’s Mouth

Cooling it off with a visual walk along the beach. Reading some stones along the path. Skipping them is fun too! Thank you for stopping by. Michele

Summer vibes and a few fun videos:

Something in the Water by Pokey LaFarge / Summertime by Janis Joplin / Summer Wine – Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood / Summer Girl by HAIM

my photos, Dave’s Rock Garden, Encinitas, CA and nearby beach

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

“Freedom” by Langston Hughes

Freedom
by Langston Hughes

Freedom will not come
Today, this year
            Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.

I have as much right
As the other fellow has
            To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.

I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I’m dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow’s bread.
            Freedom
            Is a strong seed
            Planted
            In a great need.
            I live here, too.
            I want my freedom
            Just as you.

Langston Hughes, born in Joplin, Missouri, on February 1, 1901, was an American poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, and columnist who was a central figure in the Harlem Renaissance. Visit the Poetry Foundation to learn more about his work and life.  

Sharing a poem from Hughes in recognition of the 60th anniversary of the enactment of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibits discrimination on the basis of race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. To read a related article and more poems that address racial justice and equality, visit: “Poetry and Racial Justice and Equality.” (Poetry Foundation)

photo of wheat field by Eugene Photo / photo of poet Langston Hughes from Poetry Foundation

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

Sonoran Sky

Sky highlights, from Friday’s late day market shopping to Sunday’s midday cloud gazing. The monsoons have yet to burst through, but there is always tomorrow. I haven’t seen proper rain since Belgium. Oh, how glorious that was! Wishing you all a wonderful week ahead and to all the creatives who add beauty and inspiration to my life, I thank you very much.

© 2024 MyInspiredLife

“Where ya headed?” (flash fiction)

From the mountains she descended, under the shadow of the Appalachian Mountain’s highest peak. With the last of the dirty dishes cleaned and rinsed and the chickens fed, all she had left to give, she packed all she could fit into her grandmother’s suitcase worn, then she shut the door one last time on her childhood home. Thin walls and a sloped floor had witnessed her tears, falling, after her daddy done died and left her nothing. She walked down the porch steps, not bothering to lock the door or look back. One key left on the counter and a handwritten goodbye for whoever might show up first.

Outside of Asheville is where she met him, waiting on a Greyhound to take her to her California cousin. Staring at a discolored spot on the wood floor, she saw his boots before she saw the rest of him.

“A pretty girl like you should be smiling,” he said to her lowered head. “May I sit next to you miss? Looks like you could use some company.”

“If you must,” was her forced reply as she scooted her body away from his left side.

His question of where ya headed was met with silence. “That’s ok, you’ll warm up to me yet. You ain’t asking but I’m in the mood for tellin’. It’s west I’m headed to help herd some cattle. Just a start, til I get my bearings.”

He carried her bag when their bus arrived; she obliged. On the front side of midnight, the brakes did squeal when the bus came to a stop on the cracked black tar. He stepped first, then turned and offered her a hand up the silver steps. “I will follow you,” he said. She nodded her head then found a seat in the rear. No escaping him, this was clear.

He yacked on. She couldn’t help but yawn – not making it to Knoxville before she fell asleep on his left arm.

Seems I woke with a hankering for adventure. I reckon I will be continuing this tale…

Saturday morning playlist: The Hillbilly Moon Explosion – ‘My Love For Evermore’ (ft. Sparky from Demented Are Go)  / The Devil Makes Three – “Old Number 7” / The Dead South – People Are Strange

Thanks for stopping by. Kind regards. Michele

featured photo of smiling man and woman by Everett Collection, “Strayhound” bus photo by Michael Kaercher (I modified to b & w)

© 2024 MyInspiredLife