Sidetracked Charley

Dad taught me to play poker. And the rule book was Hoyle . We were a game playing family and we wore out several rule books. And with board games we constantly referred to the official rules which came with the game. They were generally printed on the inside of the top of the box. I learned quickly when playing any game at a friend's house to find out the house or table rules before agreeing to play because not everyone played according to Hoyle . And if the "dealer" (usually the house we played at or the owner of the game) was not willing to state the table rules and stick to them I didn't play. I have always been a stickler about the rules. As a citizen of the United States I consider the rules to be the Constitution with its amendments. Political parties should follow the rules. But they haven't this year. They haven't for a while. Watergate was a wake up call for me. Nixon calling out the National Guard to quell peaceful peace marches in Washingt

If given a choice on how we see things choose beauty over evil light  over dark. If given a choice on what we hear chose kindness over rudeness whispers over screams. If given a choice Speak of beauty Sing in tune Focus on the positive and give all the same choice. J. Binford-Bell September 2016

Down the rabbit hole or Up the sucker hole Or neither. Pills to make you large Ones  to make you small happy or high. Books to bring you low quotes to take you up drinks so you can ignore it all. News  to make you angry sermons to make you right politicians to insure you are wrong. Choices Left or right red or blue right or wrong None of the above. Like this share that Amen or not Say Goodnight, Gracie. Jacqui Binford-Bell September 2016

I wrote a poem this morning on Creative Journey about fall creeping into the valley. It seems early but I only have to look at my photo files and garden journal to know it is about time. The grass is not as gold as in the photo above but that may be because of the extended monsoon season. But there and there is a branch on an aspen which is already gold or a Virginia Creeper vine turning red. There are just so many images you can put in a poem unless it is the Iliad. But as one is writing it so many images spring to mind. And I found myself thinking long about the signs of fall. The hummingbird feeders are down to two which I fill only every other day. That is down from three filled three times a day. There are now more seed pods than bulbs on the holly hocks. I shall miss them. Under house heat does not go on until the end of October but I plugged in the heated door mat on the deck outside the studio. It was gift. I would never have bought myself one. But when it fails I w

The Binford-Bell Studio Deck When I first bought my home in Black Lake it was in many ways a compromise. It didn't have a deck or even a porch for sipping morning coffee. But then neither did the house I was moving from. The house my husband of the time refused to entertain any changes to. And my plans and dreams of the changes I would make to my new home were put on hold by the changes which had to be made because of the lies the seller and his agent made. First there was the new well, and then the new lift station for the septic system. Costly things. I contented myself with cosmetic changes to my living space. And necessary upgrades to the attached rental unit. I tried modifications to the back porches on both sides but they are on the north side. Coffee in a rocking chair I bought specifically for the purpose was a chancy and very seasonal thing. It suited only dashing out in coat and snow boots to capture a fleeting dawn; quickly, very quickly. I began to plan an