How Barb Taub Crashed a Wedding – Meet the Author – April 12, 2016

Hello Everyone … a couple of weeks ago one of my favourite writers and friend, Barb Taub announced she was going to publish the third book of her series Null City and wrote a brief post about it promising that I’d have something more to say about her work  the next day.  Well, the best laid plans as they say … between one thing and another I never got around to that second post … but I was able to get a letter off at last to Barb asking her to be my guest over here at the Library and I also challenged her to write a haiku … here’s her reply!


Thank you so much for inviting me to your blog today, Georgia! Of course, you know that I’m a huge fan of your poetry, but most especially your haiku. But when you challenged me to write one, I panicked. How could something so spare and elegant be so difficult?

Here it is. My very first haiku ever, because I crashed a wedding my first night back in India.

we are such old friends,

watching strangers dance. they smile,

reaching. we whirl with new friends.

So, yes, I crashed a wedding my first night in India.

It all started because my friend Janine and I decided to push our luck. Having actually managed to meet up with our old University roommate Jaya in the middle of India the year before, we just had to see if lightning could strike again. This time, Janine and I were meeting first at the Mumbai Airport. Only, because of this tragic annual event we have up north (winter), both our flights were delayed. I’d been travelling from Scotland for over eighteen hours, much of that time spent sitting on the ground as the plane was repeatedly de-iced.

One thing about international flights is that they feed you. This is not necessarily a good thing. Shortly after our flight took off, the attendants began distributing the meal. I think they had approximately two meals that were vegetarian, but by the time they reached my section back in steerage, they were offering passengers a choice of beef stew. (The choice was to take it or to leave it.) They repeated the meal offer two more times over the course of the flight, but the menu didn’t vary. By the third pass, the attendants didn’t even pretend to hand out the trays. A woman across the aisle from me had brought along one of those big discount bags of gummy candy, and when she passed it around, she got a standing ovation.

We were all tired and hungry when the flight landed in Mumbai. Luckily, I’d been to India before so I knew how to line up before passport control. Or, more precisely, how not to line up. There is, of course, nothing remotely resembling an actual line. You just get in the middle of the crowd and eventually you’re pushed up to the front. As American voices behind me protested bitterly that people were not waiting their turn and it was so not fair, I blindly held out my paperwork to the agent, agreed that yes, Madam’s passport was very full and yes, Madam did go lots of places, and no, Madam didn’t know that they would need several pristine pages for their stampage, and yes, Madam would most certainly see that she had more pages next time. Behind me, the other Americans were still looking for lines to wait in, and still complaining about it. Lots. I wondered if I could convince anyone that I was Canadian.

The Mumbai Airport is in two very separate locations (Domestic and International), which have to be navigated Indian style. The usual soldier with the usual honking huge gun waved me toward signs for Domestic transfers, and at last I ended up at a roped-off group of chairs randomly placed in the middle of the airport terminal. Eventually, a young woman in a quasi sari/uniform outfit came over and told the group gathered there to follow her for the buses to the Domestic terminal. In the UK, that would work perfectly. Baby ducklings following their mother couldn’t fall into queue more precisely. Even in the US, travellers would lope along in a rough follow-the-leader line.

But this was India. The rest of the people in the chair circle leaped to their feet and surged for the doors at a dead run. Uniform Lady made a good show of trying to keep up with them, but somehow I lost her in the general melee. Men in suits, grandmothers in saris, mothers in embroidered salwar kameez (holding babies and clutching children’s hands), and one severely jet-lagged old American lady—we all trotted through the terminal, along corridors, down stairs, out the doors and over to the bus at the curb.

The Mumbai Domestic Terminal, including a lit up guy holding a giant tire. Of course.

The Mumbai Domestic Terminal, including a lit-up guy holding a giant tire. Of course.

People tossed their suitcases into the luggage section under the bus and pushed aboard, sweeping me with them. When it became obvious that there were not enough seats for the entire crowd, Uniform Lady reappeared and began ordering people off the bus. This caused delays as they remonstrated with her. (Since I’ve seen entire Indian families travelling on one motor bike, and witnessed many trucks so full of people that those hanging onto the back were only being kept from certain death by the grip of the inside passengers, I could understand why people were shocked at being asked to give up their perfectly safe bus aisle perches. But Uniform Lady was adamant, so we all waited through even further delays as all the luggage was removed from the under-bus compartments so the refugees could retrieve their luggage and put it on the next bus, already waiting just behind. Uniform Lady walked our bus aisle, evicting two other passengers pretending to have seats at the rear, and at last waved us away.

When we arrived at the Domestic Terminal, there was no sign of our flight to Vadodara (a small airport relatively near Jaya’s home in Gujarat). There was also no sign of my friend Janine, whose plane was supposed to be there well before mine. She’d left for the Washington DC airport more than thirty hours earlier, just ahead of the blizzard closing airports across the east coast.

It’s safe to say that we were not the two sharpest knives in the travel drawer that night. But we didn’t have to be, because we know exactly how to find each other in foreign countries in the middle of the night. I went to the only open coffee bar and ordered for two. [NOTE: for you amateurs out there, do NOT try this at home. You’ll need someone you’ve known for the better part of four decades, so that you know exactly how they will think.] Janine arrived at the Domestic terminal and headed straight for the coffee bar.

But we still had a problem. The crowd was nervously watching the departure gates, and when they finally put up the sign for the Vadodara flight, all surged forward, waiting for the gate to open. And waiting. And waiting. A woman in front of us cautioned that all the people pushing in from the sides would attempt to cut us off, and suggested that we form our own blockade. We waited some more. Eventually, the Vadodara sign was taken down, and the blockade strategist wandered off. Still we waited.

Finally, the sign went back up and the departure gate attendant asked everyone to present ticket and passport. It was the last word he got in before the crowd surged through the gates en masse. The attendant shrugged and turned away. Our passenger group rushed the doors only to find…more buses. Although there were several airplanes next to the terminal, apparently getting to our plane would require transportation. After people filled the bus, extra passengers were removed, and the driver was satisfied that all had seats, the bus finally moved away from the terminal. First it drove for some distance straight out, then circled a roundabout to drive for several blocks back, passing the airport terminal where we had boarded the bus, and continuing on in the opposite direction. At another roundabout, it turned around again and headed back to the airport terminal.


We still don’t know why we were on this bus.

As we slowed to a stop before a plane parked right outside the terminal, Janine whispered to me, “This is where we got on, isn’t it?”

Of course it was. We boarded the plane parked just across from the departure gate. As far as we could tell, we had just taken half an hour to board, ride, and depart from buses that took us across the street.

The flight itself was only about half an hour, but the crew served a full meal. Racing down the aisle, attendants dealt each passenger a tray with a speed that a Las Vegas dealer would envy. Each tray held a surprisingly delicious breakfast that was not even a little bit beef stew. But before even the fastest eater could have finished, they were back to collect the trays, tell us to fasten seat-belts, and prepare for landing.

Neither Janine nor I could figure out how long we’d been travelling at this point. But it didn’t matter because at the open end of the tiny airport, we saw Jaya waving. We were back in India and that could only mean one thing. It was time to eat. After a huge and blessedly beef-stewless meal, we headed out for a walk in the nearby town park. We weren’t sure if we were hallucinating from the sleep deprivation and jet-lag, but we saw what looked like Cinderella’s carriage (if Cindy had been REALLY into neon). Gorgeously dressed guests, beautiful horses, a full marching band, and women with gigantic light fixtures were all milling around.

“Wedding,” Jaya said. Sure enough, a young man dressed like a prince was soon seated in the carriage and it was drawn slowly through the streets, the band playing, and the women with the giant light fixtures now balanced on their heads leading the way. They didn’t get far before a tune that everyone seemed to know started up.

Wedding-Crashers-Rule76-T-ShirtsA group of gorgeously dressed women—wedding guests and bridal party—all began to dance in an expanding circle. “It’s called the garba,” Jaya explained. “Here in Gujarat, you can’t help dancing it.” Even as we watched, women approached me and asked me to join them. Ignoring my protests, they pulled me in. Somehow, only hours into our India trip, I’d crashed a wedding.

Luckily, the movie Wedding Crashers had been in the oldie selections on the plane coming over. I’d watched it in between refusing beef stew, so I already knew the rules of wedding crashing (as listed here).

But for those of you who might have missed the movie, here’s how I applied those rules:

DNWHiPNote: If you’d like to hear more about our travels through India, please check out Do Not Wash Hands in Plates, the story of three women eating our way across India in search of adventure, elephants, temples, palaces, western toilets, monkeys, the perfect paratha…and the kindness of Indian strangers..


And for urban fantasy fans, my new book Round Trip Fare is now available.


[click on image for preview and reviews from Amazon]

Warden Carey Parker’s to-do list is already long enough: find her brother and sister, rescue her roommate, save Null City, and castrate her ex-boyfriend. Preferably with a dull-edged garden tool. A rusty one.

And then there is… him. For the past two months, a dark stranger has persistently edged his way onto the mental game board behind her eyelids. Well, whatever trouble he’s selling, Carey Parker is not buying.

Carey knows superpowers suck, her own included. From childhood she’s only had two options. She can take the Metro train to Null City and a normal life. After one day there, imps become baristas, and hell-hounds become poodles. Demons settle down, join the PTA, and worry about their taxes. Or she can master the powers of her warrior gift and fight a war she can’t win, in a world where she never learned how to lose.

Round Trip Fare RWA Contest Finalist 2015

She just has a few details to work out first. Her parents have been killed, her brother and sister targeted, and the newest leader of the angels trying to destroy Null City might be the one person she loves most in the world. And her sexy new partner’s gift lets him predict deaths. Hers.

It just would have been nice if someone told her the angels were all on the other side.

  • TITLE: Round Trip Fare
  • Genre: Urban Fantasy (okay and there is humour, romance, a sentient train, a great dog, and bunch of other stuff—but Amazon only gives you a couple of words to pick genre, so…)
  • Series: Null City [NOTE: prequel One Way Fare is now available FREE from, Barnes & Noble and Kobo, and the Amazon UK kindle version directly from Barb) but this book works as standalone.
  • Release date: 7 April, 2016

Contact & Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Blog | Facebook | Twitter: @barbtaub | Goodreads


Barb pix 300 dpiBarb Taub:

In halcyon days BC (before children), Barb wrote a humour column for several Midwest newspapers. With the arrival of Child #4, she veered toward the dark side and an HR career. Following a daring daytime escape to England, she’s lived in a medieval castle and a hobbit house with her prince-of-a-guy and the World’s Most Spoiled AussieDog. Now all her days are Saturdays, and she spends them travelling around the world, plus consulting with her daughter on Marvel heroes, Null City, and translating from British to American.

I’d like to thank Barb for the great post which I hope you’ve all enjoyed as much as I have … and if you haven’t done so yet, this is the time to pick up one of her books … take it from me, they’re a great read!  Ciao, Bastet.


Round Trip Fare – A New Release by Barb Taub – March 23, 2016

Hello World!

For all of you Barb Taub fans I’ve got news!  A new sequel to her Null City urban fantasy series is scheduled for release on April 7th 2016!


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The title of the book is Round Trip Fare:

Is it wrong that shooting people is just so much easier than making decisions? Carey wonders— and not for the first time. But the Agency claims this will be an easy one. A quick pickup of a missing teen and she won’t even have to shoot anybody. Probably. 

Carey knows superpowers suck, her own included. From childhood she’s only had two options. She can take the Metro train to Null City and a normal life. After one day there, imps become baristas, and hellhounds become poodles. Demons settle down, join the PTA, and worry about their taxes. Or she can master the powers of her warrior gift and fight a war she can’t win, in a world where she never learned how to lose. 

And then there is… him. For the past two months, a dark stranger has persistently edged his way onto the mental game board behind her eyelids. Well, whatever trouble he’s selling, Carey Parker is not buying. Her to-do list is already long enough: find her brother and sister, rescue her roommate, save Null City, and castrate her ex-boyfriend. Preferably with a dull-edged garden tool. A rusty one.

She just has a few details to work out first. Her parents have been killed, her brother and sister targeted, and the newest leader of the angels trying to destroy Null City might be the one person she loves most in the world. And her sexy new partner’s gift lets him predict deaths. Hers.


More about my favourite author tomorrow but in the meantime, why not take peek at her blog … if you really need a pick me up, that’s the place to go!  Here’s just a taste of why I love her … An American learns to eat in England!



Travelling – Fibo-Ku and Shadorma for Barb

On sun-kissed seas
Of happy imagination …
Seeking a vision of sunshine despite the rain fall …
I feel the salt upon my lips – warm sunshine – memories tucked away for days like today.

Just a trip
Through my mind and yet
The sun shines
The birds call
That was … is here once again
In the sea of mind.

For you Barb

Friday Fictioneers February 28, 2014

Copyright -Sandra Crook

Copyright -Sandra Crook

“Rather short notice wasn’t it?” Suzanne said.
“Well, my husband has to be at his new office on Monday next!” Barb replied.
“However did you find a house?”
“Another castle comes with the job.”
“Have you found a moving company?”
“Well, no, Harry Dunn will move our stuff!”
“The farmer? In his open hay cart?” Suzanne laughed.
“It’s either that or wait a month.  John has to be in Scotland next week …”
“I’ve got an idea!”
A week later, from her English castle, Barb invaded Scotland followed by a caravan of English friends and neighbours.
William Wallace shuddered!

Word count 99.

A fellow blogger, Barb Taub has recently moved to Scotland, this is my homage to her!

Written for Friday Fictioneers

Just a Note: January 6, 2014

Hello World!

Red leaf

Red leaf

Here I am with the first Just a Note of the New Year.

Just a note started popping up not from the beginning of my blogging career.  I don’t know when it first hapened…I’d have to go look it up…oh! it was April 9th!

Yesterday reading your comments I came across this fantastic comment by Barb Taub, on a poem I’d written about editing, the post was called “Unavoidable Pain“. So, here’s the poem:

Free Verse

here I sit…
back up straight…
choosing what should be edited
choosing what needs be chucked
and though it may all have seemed great
now I look over my year’s work
and I observe every mistake
not to speak of those
stilted rhymes
then I think
yes, this is it
the moment of

I often think that Barb knows more about what’s going inside me than I do…her comment has me reflecting…but here it is so you can read it too:

“There’s a world of difference between a blog post and a final product intended for publication. The former is the pure, ephemeral manifestation of creativity, while the latter is the formal application of editorial discipline. Both are equally important (unless you’re going for the Oscar Wilde approach — “I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again.”― Oscar Wilde)

Frankly, I’m consistently lost in amazement at your creative volume. Sure, go back and edit the back end if you need to, but please make sure you don’t put your creative voice at risk on the front end.

We all need to hear your thoughts, your words, your voice!”

I think Oscar and I would have a lot in common as far as editing goes…well…not really.  Of 12 old haiku I printed yesterday to “edit” I rewrote all of them…sigh…

Dear readers…I think that I would like to publish something some day.  The problem is…I don’t think I’m a publishable writer.  That is I think that I’m better at blogging…getting the stuff out there and it gives me such great pleasure to see a story or a poem form itself under my fingers…but I’m afraid I’m not a writer … that is my stuff writes itself … I don’t write a piece then let it sit there for a week than re-write the piece then go over it again…and finally I’d have this lovely piece of story or poem or whatever.  It’d be perfect, someone would probably want to publish it…people would pay to read it.  Nope.  I’m not that kind of writer.

This summer, I tried to write that kind of story.  Or rather, I tried to write one of the little stories that I like very much based on this story: Short Story: The Train Chats – 1.

Note there is a one at the end of the title.  Well there was going to be a series.  Then, I wrote the second story…which only a few have read.  It went from one of the chatty little stories similar to this one to something I just didn’t recognize as my own.  Not only did I not recognize it, but it felt completely alien to me.  I edited the poor thing and edited it some more…and the more I edited it…the more someone else thought it needed editing.  Then there were the grammar errors…and then the syntax errors…in the end, I’ve got this story that someone said she knew where to find a home…but it just sits here.  And I think perhaps that’s probably just as well, because I don’t think I’d have the heart to say I wrote it.

So..I’ve gotten it into my head that it would be nice to put together some of my poems and publish them…or maybe some power shorts and sketches.  Thus the poem above…I’m looking for stuff I’d like to turn into an e-book. But…I probably won’t.  I don’t have the editorial discipline and know how…and I don’t think it’s something one learns at my age.

What I do have though…is the gift of the gab and written gab at that!

Will I ever publish…I wish I could say yes…but I won’t commit myself because I think not.  I just don’t have what it takes to get in out there and pull out a sellable product.

So…I’ll try to edit and maybe get a manuscript together…who knows maybe I’ll figure out how to make an e-book and maybe I’ll self publish…lots of maybes there.  Whatever, Barb, I won’t stop blogging.  In the end I create for number one and am happy when a few of you actually read my stuff and like it and it’s really a fantastic gratification when someone comments…like you do from time to time Barb dear. Sure, in my wildest fantasies I publish and all that jazz…

Have a great week folks…have fun doing whatever you do best…

Ciao Bastet!


Just A Note: 16 September 2013

Hello World!



Well, as you saw, maybe, from my Just a Note Flash..which is a sticky note, I’ve opened another blog that goes by the name of Through the Eye of Bastet.  The idea is to keep Bastet and Sekhmet for written work and pass all the photography (except for Haiga and the like) over to that blog.  I’ve also slightly changed the name of this blog, it is now Bastet and Sekhmet’s Library…I was going to call it the Akashic Library, as all inspiration according to some people’s belief comes from there, but I was afraid that the name would probably invite people who were looking for esoteric stuff.

A Sunday Walk, Painting the town Red, and Photo Challenges of various sorts will also go over to Through the Eye, except for Ese’s Shoot and Quote, which I feel is a more literary sort of work.  Wordless Wednesday will be posted on both blogs.

For the moment all the older Sunday Walks and Painting the town Red etc still be seen here.  Most of the Photo Challenges have been exported over to Through the eye, except Pixelventures which soon will be.  Once I’ve finished the exodus, these posts will be removed from Bastet and Sekhmet, except for those that contain my poetry.  (I’m hoping that removing the photographic posts will also remove the photos from the media library, if not, I’ll have to go and remove them one by one!)  Those photo posts with my poetry will be renamed and re-categorized.

Which brings me to what I’ve been doing over the past 6 days…creating new categories for the work I’ve done up to now! Removing old service re-blogs that no longer are important and sometimes re-editing or finishing a poem that was forgotten (like Rambling of Love which had been sitting unfinished since June!)  Long Slog!!!

Now, once finished, I’ll change theme here.  I hope to find a theme which I can use to divide the poetry from the narrative and another place for reblogs…don’t know if anything of the sort exists, but one never knows!

I’ve got a few ideas of what I want to do for my part of the 13th Floor Paradigm  For the mo’ I’ll keep that quiet, a sort of surprise, but basically I’ll be following up on things I’ve started.


Unfortunately, two of my favorite bloggers have had some difficulties, in real word, which have kept them away from us.  M.E. McMahon‘s Danny had some serious health problems and has been in hospital, I’m sure you all will join me in wishing him and her the best.

Barb Taub‘s Mother, unfortunately passed away last week.  For every ex-pat the one fear that we have is being so far away when our family needs us.  Fortunately Barb was able to go home and be with her Mom for her mother’s last week on Earth.  Join me in offering our warmest sympathies to Barb and her family.


The only thing I have to add at the moment is that on Thursday my conversation meetings begin again…which to me is a sure-fire confirmation that the summer is over, as if I needed any confirmation!  The Saturday the 21st is of course is fall equinox!

Have a great week people doing what you do best. Bye 🙂

Just A Note: September 9, 2013

Hello World!


That was quite an interesting beginning wasn’t it.  This week has been an emotion packed week.  Not all good emotions either, but looking from a philosophical point of view, one must ask what is good and what is bad.  I’m not one of those persons who believes pain will make you grow nor do I believe that just looking at the bright side of life you will make things positive come your way.  Though I’ve seen that if one wishes to be hosanna-ed one can write extensively on either subject and many will read them in droves.

Some unforeseen problems have been making life a bit rocky for me at the moment, and sometimes that means I look at the keyboard for assistance because nothing wants to be written or read.  Some of my fellow bloggers also have been having their health and family problems which have kept them away from blogging and the place has been a little emptier without them.  Of course, life is an ebb and flow and I know that it’s only a question of time, then the metaphorical sun will rise again, adjustments having been made.  This is the real miracle of life in my opinion.


Barb Taub’s book “One Way Fare has been published and is for sale!  I’ve been watching over the months as Barb’s been progressing towards this happy day. I wish to offer my personal congratulations to Barb on this effort!  The link will take you to her announcement page, have a look!


As for my personal publishing efforts…they’re efforts.  Actually, I’ve never gone to a publisher yet.  I have more or less finished a first short story that might be acceptable to a magazine now that I’ve finished all my refining, retuning, re-editing to get rid of all the grammar, typo, tense and punctuation errors.  I’ve now sent it to my sister, who’s given it to a mutual friend, for final editing.

What’s the problem?  I don’t like what the story has become.  Could be because having spent so much time on it, I’ve just become weary of it.  However, one of my readers said that it was a “traditional” good read.  At that point I shuddered and a lot of my enthusiasm went out of the project.  So, I’ll have to do some re-thinking here.


I’m taking part in a daily Haiga challenge this month.  This is an interesting project too.  I’m using my photographs for the most part in this challenge, though I’ve continued to draw in my spare time, which isn’t much right now.

Golden Haiga

I’ve also become interested in Haibun, thanks to Ese’s Voice and the Ligo Haibun challenge.  I used the Haibun form also this week to write my Friday Fictioneers’ contribution.  It was interesting getting the story and the Haiku all in 100 words.

On the 13th Floor I’ve also published a Power Short prompt;  write a children’s story.  I discovered Power Shorts long before I came across Friday Fictioneers and though they are basically the same thing, my prompt furnishes a requested genre as well as a prompt.


Alas, oh sigh, I’m plagued with spam.  Each day I have to go to my comment page and weed the stuff out.  I could just do an empty spam, but unfortunately, sometimes not all the spam is spam.

This is a problem that is plaguing everyone as seen through Papizilla’s post on his new blog “The Literary Syndicate“…17 bits of spam on a blog just that had just opened!  By the way, besides this post on spam, Papi’s doing a good job on getting the word out about indie publishers in a big way, have a look.

However, there have been some spammers who’ve been able to infiltrate  the barriers of Askimet.  Two such spammers that came my way this week were via Tumblr and another site.  They made comments on an older post of mine which seemed kind of strange.  I looked them over and voilà, they were two lovely ladies (sic) who run an on-line sex site.  Of course I spammed them out of existence.

Yesterday though in answer to my post, “Thoughts: Women and Writing” I received this long comment which I’m copying and pasting:

Let’s start with breaking the ‘binary-gender roles’…when we no longer associate genitalia, with one’s capabilities, or entitlements…only then might we know the equalization of the human…

I believe that you’ll have to break the cultural typecasts to advance yourself…. and consider too, any mammalian instinctive behaviors…isn’t that why the human is presumably given the conscious mind…would it be to continue answering to the animal within?

Do you first wish to inspect my genitalia, or will my conscious-mind suffice?
Thank you…
-The ‘artist’ known as Malikoma
p.s. No butt-sniffing please!”

For this lovely answer a Gravitar was created ad hoc.  I haven’t approved the comment on my post, not because of its content, but because the Gravitar was created ad hoc.

Of course this person, whom I suspect to be a shy male 😉 (but one never knows) may be legitimate.  However, once I approve this, and unless I want to moderate each and every comment, this person can comment without approval on any post without moderation and I might be forced in future to take down the comment.  So I posted the comment here.  What do you think about these extemporaneous commenters?  Would you consider this a sort of censorship on my part?  Of course if you wish to reply, have the courage to do so openly instead of hiding behind a ad hoc Gravitar.

Yesterday on “Lucy’s Football” there was an interesting article about Spam and our “followers” many of whom are following just to spam.  The most disheartening thing about “followers” is that you can’t have them unfollow you.  Well, actually, I think you can spam them and they can’t comment on your posts anymore. Have a look at the post and tell me what you think, if you’ve got the time.

In Conclusion:

Writing to Music: Senryu Trilogy

I’ve been requested to write a trilogy to the music of Eric Satie…Les Trois Gymnopédie…in Haiku (but I’ve chosen Senryu) by Barb Taub.   How could I refuse a request like this, and from one of my first and most faithful blogging friend!

The difference between Haiku and Senryu, is basically focus.  Here I’m focusing on a day in a couple’s life (in first person point of view).  So, not strictly Haiku which would be a more specific description of nature.

For those who may not know the piece or would like to listen to it while they read…just click the link to Les Trois Gymnopédie here.

Sarca River flows into lake Garda...sailing

Sarca River flows into lake Garda…sailing

Gymnopédie N° 1

first light foreshadows
languid summer day, with you
dawn is our promise


Gymnopédie N° 2

our sun shines brightly
Sarca river flows serenely
we laugh as ducks dive


Gymnopédie N°3

sailing on the lake
strong wind fills our sails, we race
wind’s gift: our freedom


Have a great Sunday Barb, I hope you like them, and a great day to everyone else too!

Just a Note: 17 June 2013


Hello World!

Summer is here and so, the heat is making itself felt when just a week ago I was still running around in a hoody or a sweater!  However summer also means traveling and getting out more, and alas, less time for blogging!
It’s a good thing I’m an early riser or there would probably not be a Bastet and Sekhmet blog to read!  One of my bigger blogging problems, is convincing my hubby that blogging is in fact a form of art!  Well, I think he’s convinced on that point now, but he’d prefer to see me away from the computer when he’s up and about!  Three months or so ago, I read a blog at Blogher that spoke of the problem…I think the title went something like: Does Blogging Create A Problem In Your Family, and I guess I’d have to answer; YES!  Alas such is life.  But of course, he’s not all wrong, it is summer and I should be out walking and sunning and not sitting behind a monitor. So a little time organization is required here to see how to save “goats and cabbages” as the Italians say…that comes from a little word game by the way:  How can you in three trips take your goats and cabbages across your tiny row-boat without losing both.


award collage

Thanks to Belinda at Busy Mind Thinking for her nomination of the Very Inspiring Blogger Award!  Now she is a lady who is an inspiration to us all and I feel privileged to be nominated to her.

I must also thank Patty from Petite Magique for her nomination of the Rose of Kindness Award!  To receive this nomination from such a kind person herself leaves me without any other words than a sincere, thank you Patty!

A new exciting and earth-shaking award has been created by Sahm King at The Arkside of Thought its: The Friggin’ Awesome Blogger award, from now on FAB award.  Here is the award of all awards for the blogger of all bloggers…and I thank him for his nomination.  This I consider also a prompt, so I will write an individual piece to extol that FAB blogger that is me!

I don’t usually nominate people individually…that is not because I don’t have or can’t think of specific persons to nominate.  My problem is TIME, and you need time to go to bloggers and nominate them one by one, linking etc.  Time I do not have!  So, please, please forgive if I don’t name you one by one.  You are all great bloggers!  I have a category dedicated to Awards…go have a look and feel free to choose one for yourself and post back (ping-back) to me that you have done so…easy no?


Blogging takes you not only into your own mind and soul, but sometimes it takes you into the mind and soul of others…which if you think about it is not really odd.  As Charles wrote in his poem: Unseen Friends:

They live close to our heart
Though we have never met
Friends from the ether
Connected by words
Read off the screen

And so it is!  The WordPress community life, something I personally wasn’t expecting, gives us not only a wonderful opportunity to blog with visible responses, something that doesn’t always happen blogging individually, unless of course you’re already famous, but it also creates friendships and alas clashes.  It’s a real world, even though we may never meet the people we speak to daily face to face.

This week was a bit of a roller coaster for me.  A blogging friend disappeared without a clue (he later showed up to comment one of my poems about him) and a dear lady shared with us her health problems, for which I hope she will soon find a cure.  Others have had problems with their book sales, others share their perplexities about love, anger, racism and well life .  It’s not Facebook atmosphere that’s for sure!

My blogging buddies from Cranky Caregiver to Barb Taub in the short story range onwards to Lilith Colbert, MT Blu, Belinda, Sahm King and Shainbird for Poetry and Sweetness 6645, Frizztext and Judith at Sustainabilitea for photography plus Patty, Charles and Eric in general as well as others I’ve not named but whom you can see on my posts through their messages, all give me a wonderful feeling of encouragement to keep this blog running.  You all deserve some special award, maybe the Encouraging Commenter Award!

This Week

To tell the truth, I don’t have anything special planned for this week…I’d hope that everyone will have a look at the Photo Comment I made yesterday about the adventure I had in Padova entitled: Photo Chronicle – 1387 etc it was a great trip and I took oodles of photos only a small portion of which was posted in that service.

Last week I tried my hand for the first time writing an Epic Fantasy entitled. Grace’s Cove and I think I want to try another, well not quite the same thing, but in the same ambiance.

Lilith at We Drink Because We are Poets gave us 3 photos from which to choose to inspire ourselves, I chose the kitten.  The story I wrote met with mixed results. It seemed to me that letting a bird be eaten by a kitten somewhere in the world did not meet with enthusiasm.  But in my opinion, as the song that was attached to that kitten was about a crazy lady who eventually ate a horse who “died of course”, I felt that death was actually the main subject, hidden behind a nonsense song and a cute kitten.  I later wrote an alternate ending so each reader could choose which one was to be preferred.  I asked that a comment be made to explain the reader’s choice…none was forthcoming…sigh.  The title of the story was: The Kitten’s Tale. Oh!  what I was going to say is that I’ll try to write a story for the other two prompts!  🙂 got lost there for a mo’ .

Ok everyone…hope you have a wonderful blogging week and write lots of fantastic posts!  I’ll be waiting, with my arms akimbo as I look over the valleys and rivers here in Arco, imagining what you all would think or write if you were here with me!

Arrivaderci until next week!