I have amassed a good number of followers over the years. However, I feel some of them have fallen off the radar so to speak. If you can see this say howdy and I hope you are doing well. Let’s reconnect somehow. Also, keep on blogging too. Let’s make the Internet and blogging fun again.

Rain’s Water splashed,
Turned into drops,
Some went into the earth,
As a life giver to,
Saplings, trees and creatures.
Some combined,
Made a flow into,
Streams, channels and rivers,
Returned to ocean.
Humans made storage,
Checking natural flow.
Disturbance caused flooding.

Some contributed,
Some evaporated,
Made vapours,
Went to form clouds,
Ocean supported growth every time.

I am not possible alone,
Temperature is my mother,
Wind is my vehicle,
Trees are my magnets,
Heights are my hurdles.

My form is ice also,
Height is abode,
Give origin to perennial rivers,
Civilizations flourish,
But mistakes perish.

I am liquid,
I am gas,
I am solid.
I am three states of one.

I am fresh,
I am sweet,
I am salty.

I support,
I modify,
I damage,
I annihilate.
I am water.

You pollute me.
Let me remain nature’s bounty.

If we think our lives appear to be like water. We…

Good casts

Rumpole of the Bailey is a radio series created and written by the British writer and barrister John Mortimer based on the television series Rumpole of the Bailey. Five different actors portrayed Horace Rumpole in these episodes: Leo McKern, Maurice Denham, Timothy West, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Julian Rhind-Tutt.

His skill at defending his clients is legendary among the criminal classes. The Timson clan of “minor villains” (primarily thieves) regularly rely on Rumpole to get them out of their latest bit of trouble with the law. Rumpole is proud of his successful handling of the Penge Bungalow Murders “alone and without a leader” (that is, as a “junior” barrister without a QC) early in his career and of his extensive knowledge of bloodstains and typewriters. Cross-examination is one of his favourite activities, and he disdains barristers who lack either the skill or courage to ask the right questions. His…

Palazzo Cirrincione si trova a Palermo in via Villareale n. 69 e, con la sua aura monumentale di matrice classicista, è una architettura notevole di riferimento per l’intero invaso della piazza Sant’Oliva sulla quale si affaccia con il suo caratteristico angolo stondato.

È una opera matura di Ernesto Armò, indipendente progettista della fase terminale della Belle époque palermitana e tra i primi e più brillanti assistenti di Ernesto Basile, in cui la dimensione floreale di chiara ascendenza basiliana si esplica attraverso gli ornati degli intonaci e dei ferri battuti.

L’edificio, realizzato attorno al 1908, si compone di cinque piani fuori terra e di un aggiuntivo piano attico lievemente arretrato rispetto al fronte dei prospetti su strada. Interessante è il sistema di finte bugne che governa la quasi interezza dei due fronti su strada che si rarefà in filari paralleli e alternati in cui spiccano porte-finestre con inusuali balconi “eclettici”.

Stretto da un cornicione…

( Our Daily Bread Devotional July 15, 2023 by Lisa M. Samra)

Message : Every Moment Holy is a beautiful book of prayers for a variety of activities, including ordinary ones like preparing a meal or doing the laundry. Necessary tasks that can feel repetitive or mundane. The book reminded me of the words of author G. K. Chesterton, who wrote, “You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.”

Such encouragement reorients my perspective on the activities of my day. Sometimes I’m inclined to divide my activities into ones that appear to have spiritual value, like reading devotions before a meal, and other activities I think have little spiritual value, such as doing the dishes after the meal. Paul erased that divide in a letter to the people…

in the quiet corners of my heart
I kept a flame burning 
a tender light 
that belonged solely to you 
it danced and flickered 
casting shadows of hope 
across the walls of my soul
illuminating a path 
for only you and I

but in your words
I felt a distance
a reflection of a love
not quite the same
it was as if our hearts
were ships passing in the night
destined for different shores

and I guess the hardest part
of this is learning to accept
that not all loves are the same