This illustration from an image service, Pixabay I believe. I’ve had the image in my files for quite a while. I just checked Google image service but no owner came up, just that a fractal process was used to generate it.
It’s called Blueyellowcontours.jpeg. I thought It an appropriate illustration of what Lilly’s “pretty water” might’ve looked like.
The Book of Life and its characters escaping … seemed like an appropriate companion to Tardi’s trials in the the next chapter …
When a good cloud play presents itself, I always wonder how much the speed of the Earth’s rotation is the cause. IE how ‘stationary’ clouds are. Does the Earth move within its jacket of clouds …
Another bank rolling over in the southeast …
These are more of the cumulus shapes whereas in the south there’s another roll-like formation rising up my sky. Not moving as fast as the first one.
This cloud front is racing north …
And appears to stretch all the way from east to west . Not that I can see the westerly end …
Times like these I wish I could see from the top floor westerly fire escape balcony without having to walk all the way down to the ground floor and catch the lift back up to level 2.
Going in the elevators during a thunderstorm seems quite risky. What if there’s a power cut? Not only that, I don’t think my knees would cope descending nine floors.
The cloud is gone, but it is raining. Just a light shower emanating from the white clouds left behind. Turning into a sun shower …
Just for a change, a part of the original book cover by Covermint, by Dan van Oss …
This is a screenshot of a Adobe’ed artwork by an artist I don’t know. PS, a friend, did the Adobe-ing. It’s so easy these days to lose sight of the original artist. We might as well accept that once our work hits the online world, it’s out of our hands, it’s no use crying. Or conversely, our attitude can be that we’ve launched our art to do its work in the world.
Way way back when … when babies and toddlers wore cloth nappies (diapers to you in the north western hemisphere) safety pins were common.
The strong, well-made ones with the slide down safety caps ruled. Women regularly wore them pinned to their aprons while they bathed their babies.
Sometimes there was a cry through the house, where are the safety pins? For years and years, millions of nappies were safely safety-pinned around all the babies who wore nappies.
Yes, of course there were accidents, babies getting pricked. But not as often as disposable nappy manufacturers shouted about. There was a technique that you were taught in prenatal classes. You only stabbed your own fingers a few times until you learned.
Now we don’t have those particular accidents. But can you imagine the billions by now of disposable but not degradable diapers in landfills and oceans everywhere? And so there’ve been other, also frightening accidents.
Whales and other marine animals choking on soiled nappies thrown overboard a boat. Soiled nappies choking the gutters and causing floods.
Soiled nappies flushed down toilets, nappies dumped by the side of roads and wildlife trying to eat them. At least when my mother, who out of sheer frustration had to dump a full nappy in a train station’s rubbish bin, that nappy was made of biodegradable cotton.
I remember her mourning the necessity and the loss, sixty-eight years ago. The railway station in Genoa, Italy. The family, including the now four month old twins, were on their way back to Netherland after a year in Indonesia.
That up there is my collection of old safety pins. At least three are forty years old from the time when it was my turn to pin nappies on a baby. These pins still going strong. I wouldn’t like to be without them.
This little repair, for instance, does anybody ever replace tired elastic in jeans, pyjamas, etc? And how, if not with the help of safety pins?
Rita de Heer 