# of divers

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Of forks in the road

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree.
Which road do I take? she asked.

Where do you want to go? was his response.
I don't know, Alice answered.

Then, said the cat, it doesn't matter. If you don't know where you are going,
any road will get you there.


Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Underwater Photo Gallery

This must be underwater love,
the way I feel it slipping all over me.
so deep,
so beautifully liquid...

It falls, it falls,
and everything falls.

Let's swim to where everything is possible.

These liquid dreams of mine, so floaty, so clear, so undisturbed...


Monday, August 29, 2011

To be or not to be home... Welcome back Jonah!!!

That is the question

After a long awaited son-less summer, my notsoyoung lad is returning to the homefront!

This afternoon's itinerary:
(times are approximate)

1645 hours: near-fourteen year old boy reunited with mother

1730 hours: insane cheeseburger feast and inane laughter at Hodaddy's

1830 hours: heaping 'bring all the boys to the yard' milkshakes

1900 hours: bumble home by the sea, uncomfortably full

All Shakespeare approved, btw.

ah, yes...

And now back to the regularly-scheduled mother programming duties.

Hepp-happiest mama alive.


Goaty and fig love

Because who doesn't need a heart-shaped, goat cheese and fig finger sandwich upon cinnamon raisin bread for a fine Monday morning?

Have a lubbly day lubbs


Friday, August 26, 2011

The Story of Rindercella - A jumbly-muddled playatale by Ringo Firefly

Once upon a blog,

a doung yamsel lived with her mean fugly sisters and a sicked wetmother. The toor phing was banished to tubbing scroilets, fopping mloors, and slaving over mundane tousehold fasks. Her only solace was to cest near the rinders, so she was called Rindercella.

Here, she entertained herself by rocking forth and back while pretending that she was swinging in the cottoncandy clouds above.

Rindercella was a very gunhappy firl.

One day the quing and kueen announced a royal dustyball. All the meligible elaidens in the land were invited so that the young poundsome hrince might find a bride.

The mevil, eean fugly sisters and their sicked wetmother cade mertain to ensure, that Rindercella would be chaden with lores to prevent her from attending the busty dall. She was danished to boing all the chousehold hores six times each.

Poor Rindercelly, she not go to the dustyball.

Alas, the dime trew near!
Rindercelly furredly hinished her chores, but hadn't a thing to wear!

The nice were mice enough to make her a geautiful bown, spun of string cheese and tattered fraps of scabric, while she hlaved in the souse all the longlive day, but her seevil epsisters took it thupon umseleves to shred her smallgown into bitherereens.

leaving her a sad mess-and-a-half

 Loor, pittle Rindercella turst into beers and ran out to the garden. When suddenly, magical dixiepust appeared from the sky, as did a gairy fepmother.

With a salagadoola mechicka boola, the gairy modgother turned Rindercelly into a sot hass dustyball princess, and then abacadabra'ed a pucking fumpkin into a beautiful carriage.

Rindercelly was indeed the ball of the belle.

Together with her pancy frince, the night flew on the wings of love and light. Before they knew it, the clock truck stwelve!

Oh dear! Rindercella had gorfotten her curfew!

She ran as fast as her shmittle legs could carry her as the playa pixiedust wore away.

But not before Rindercelly left a slass glipper behind on the dusty castle steps.

which looked more like a broken mirrorglass slipper up close

after all, they had a pretty rough night tearing up the playaball.

The gloomy, proyal poundsome hrince searched low and high for her, but she was whereno to be found.

Beunknownst to Rindercelly, the prince had been taking luitar glessons by the royal guitar songsmith to sift his lirits. He used a majestic guitar ballad, along with the lonesome slass glipper to summon his way back to his love true one.

All the moung yaidens in the land tried to stuff their feet into the teeny slass glipper.

But the shoe was a ferfect pit for Rindercelly.

She then joined him on a world tour as his personal groupie for a talented rocker band that bore her very name (sorta), then recorded an album that reached triple platinum status.

After the rollercoaster experiences with the young, procker rince and matebands, Rindercelly no longer sensed a fear of independence.

She gained a strong sense of self-esteem and a fierce sense of style along the way.

Soon, she became Cinderellicious, the kindest, and most fashionable queen in the land. 

The two moved into the royal, honorable temple, and lived a rich life filled with mutual respect, love, gratitude and compassion.

by steve fritz
And of course, they lived appily hever apwards in their dusty kingdom!


Thursday, August 25, 2011

Fingerfriend Happies

The only way to have a friend is to be one.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson


Wednesday, August 24, 2011

You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life. - Winston Churchill

Stand up for something,

even if it means standing alone.

The world needs your voice.


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