A "Wood Between the Worlds" Digression....

Re: A "Wood Between the Worlds" Digression....


That's not the kind of "wood" I'm famaliar with.

I'm in a similar yet different transition place, dlowan, and free to be even more me, which should scare other folks.
I don't think it's a dark wood we're going into either - but one of sunbeams on lettuce green leaves and sweet skunks scampering amid the trilliums...
today, that is.

Now - this is no doggerel thread - but this bit is on my mind, since I injured my left thumb nail...


Ode to the the Left Thumb Nail

(Recently grievously wounded in honourable service to a right pawed Bunny, while changing key rings)

Oh Nail! Only now you're scored,
(And I am forced to be north-pawed,
{Well, actually, I mean north-nailed,
But t' find a rhyme for that I've failed -
[Oh dammit - there's an oxymor'n -
A frill on which I've oft heaped scorn]})
Well, anyway, back to our meat -
Oh left thumb nail, you're really neat!

For now I find, to do each deed,
It's you I really, REALLY need -
To open boxes, tins and flowers,
To cook and clean I need your powers -
(You're wond'ring about the flow'rs, I deem -
Those wrapped in cellophane, I mean -
With sticky-tape wrapped all around,
Not those plucked freshly from the ground)

Oh doughty and scant honoured nail!
But loved and lauded when it fail!
I wait on Nature's healing powers -
(They're taking hours and hours and HOURS!)
I gaze upon your shattered mien,
I keep you scrupulously clean,
I swear I will not fail t' applaud
You when again I'm double- pawed!

Heavens, what kind of wood can Fishin' be familiar with?



Sweet SKUNKS???!!!!

Another goddamn oxymoron!

I can well guess: 'tis a word for the pecker, so called. Which I suppose is fitting, appropriate for a bird of flight in the night, or e'en daytime.

Speaking of flight, t'was a fine ode to the left thumb nail, I may have to print it out for framing.

YAYYY!!!! A digression thread!!! Oh, frabjous day! The only woods fishin' is familiar with is a #4 Wood, I do b'lieve. Isn't that sometimes called a niblick? Maybe not. Fact is, when I saw your headline I thought this was going to be golfing thread. I don't do golf myself. Lately I don't do much of anything except try and keep this creepy computer going. Everything is currently being held together with crewing gum, post-it notes, Scotch tape and baling wire. And still I had to run a complete recovery program again this morning (second time in one week) to even get online. But, lessee, what were talking about?

Skunks being sweet, and wood a golf term, what could be next?

Hmmm - I have heard of "having a woody" or "morning wood" - and I know what THAT means.

For a moment I thought you were saying SKUNK was a word for Pecker, Osso - then I thought you meant skunk was a word for WOOD-pecker - and there my imagination thankfully drew a veil - and so it shall be, for now and forever and ever, amin.


I SOOOO do not DO golf!

Merry - I had thunk thy computer woes was over?????


(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((merry's puter))))))))))))))))) - thinking restorative thoughts.


I am glad you liked the 'orrid ode, Osso.

I did like the ode and of course skunks remind me of raccoons, they seem to be partners hereabouts, and both praps allied with nearby woods, as in sequoia groves. Did you know we had a bear shot here about a block from my house, just before I moved here? And another one lately. Yah, we are in their way, and clumsy at dealing with this.

But, moving along to golf. I golfed, ever so slightly, when I was a teen and used to follow Arnie, since he made some big amount of his fame in my neighborhood golfcourse. But that was all related to my dad and all that. Now then, I wonder, why the hell has no one, past St. Andrews in the old days, started golf courses in real land, instead of golf land. I am pretty irked at golfland, ecologically speaking. Backing up, maybe I don' want them on real land either, or not so very much.. circumscribe them

Circumsize em, that'll fix em.....

Two roads diverged in the woodies one day,
With a skunk on one I went the other way!


And that has made all of the difference!

Well, it wood!

Wood eye?

One eyed wood?

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though
He will not see me stopping here
To see his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sounds that sweep
Are easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

-- Robert Frost

I can't see the forest through the trees.