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CHECK THIS OUT IF YOU DARE! (The Answer at the end)

Published August 21, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Sorry, I don’t know the answer to this one. Let me know if you do!  (Now I wonder if Google knows), but play fair, without Google. I still don’t know. I’ll wait 4 weeks (9-11-17) before giving the agreed-upon answer from you. P.S. It’s okay to use the Bible.

God made Adam out of the dust,

But thought it best to make me first.

So I was made before the man,

according to God’s Holy plan.

My whole body God made complete,

without arms, or hands or feet.

My ways and acts did God control,

but in my body He placed no soul.

A living being I became,

and Adam gave to me a name.

Then from his presence I withdrew,

for this man Adam I never knew.

All my Master’s laws I do obey,

and from these laws I never sray.

Thousands of me go in fear,

but seldom on the earth appear.

Later, for a purpose God did see,

He placed a living soul in me.

But that soul f mne God had to claim,

and from me took it back again.

But when from me this soul had fled,

I was the same as when first made.

Without arms, legs, feet, or soul,

I  travel on from pole to pole.

My labors are from day to night,

and to men I once furnished light.

Thousands of people, both yung and old

did by my death bright lihts behold.

No right or wrong can I conceive;

the Bible and its teachings I can’t believe.

The fear of death doesn’t trouble me;

pure happiness I will never see.

And up in Heaven I can never go,

nor in the grave nor hell below.

So get your Bible and read with care;

you’ll find my name recorded there.

______________________

This puzzle was written by a lady in California in 1890 in response to a gentleman in Philadelphia, who said that he would pay $1,000 to anyone who could write a puzzle that he could not solve.  He failed to do so, and paid the lady $1,000…

The answer is one word, five letters long,  and appears only four times in the King James version of the Bible.  An 8-year old boy figured out the puzzle. Can you? Good hunting.

I never came up with the answer. A friend I showed it to immediately said “whale,” which was correct.  For the answer, I wrote my niece who had originally sent it to me about 10 years ago, without the answer but saying she knew what it was…..My how time flies!  So no one in blogland gets the $10,000 prize. Better luck next time!

     : > )

 

Senseless Sunday Sarcasm : B@th time – A reblog

Published August 20, 2017 by Nan Mykel

True to life…

floridaborne's avatarTwo on a Rant

Yep.  The B word.

I gave 6 dogs a bath yesterday.  I should give yoga-while-dog-washing classes.  I sit on the edge of the tub with one leg outstretched so the poor over-loved dog can’t escape.  He tries to duck under my leg.  I wrap an arm around his back and start washing the legs on the other side of his body.  It looks something like this…

…except the arm isn’t up in the air, it’s over a dog, and the leg is stuck out straight.  Okay!  I couldn’t find the exact pose.  That’s why it’s called yoga-while-dog-washing.

This is what a put-upon 68 pound dog with 1st world problems looks like.

 

Oh the horror of it all! To be immersed in water and forced to watch half a yard worth of hard-earned dirt go down the drain.

To make matters worse, cats don’t get baths,  they do that to…

View original post 182 more words

I HAD A DREAM

Published August 20, 2017 by Nan Mykel

I HAD A DREAM

It was a hilarious,

off-the-wall and wild

satire in which a

lyin’ thieving varmint

wormed his way into our White

House with his lying cheating thugs

and referred to it as “a dump,”

which isn’t laughable, but then

he tooted his horn on Twitter,

(“To tremble with agitation”).

He got even with his friends and

was said to blackmail  supporters.

His “base” was aptly named: base,

a sackful of KKK types,

gun-toting cross-burning Nazi

white supremacists. Who would want

to claim them but another varmint.

What’s so funny about this dream?

The horror on the faces of those

who woke up in the same bed with the

whole stinkin’  bunch of desecraters.

(I guess it really was a nightmare.)

Or was it reality 2017?

MUSINGS

Published August 19, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Re-do of the Red Wheelbarrow:

The Black Chalk Board

so much

depends

upon a black

chalk board

covered with

equations

beside the gray

waste basket.

METAPHOR

I know, I know, metaphors rule

but their birth is often Caesarian.

Is your life a sandbox or a boxcar?

A crapshoot? A bird cage?

A leaf  or is it a harp?

Or a stage, maybe a sand dune?

A beached sea shell or a chapel?

Ooh! A chapel! I like that one.

Count me in.

If I Were a Penguin…

Published August 18, 2017 by Nan Mykel

If I were a penguin–

my life, a carpet rolled

out for me to follow

from beginning to end–

I would want to rebel.

 

What is the use of us,

I’d ask, Why are we here?

No free will for penguins?

I’d want to rebel if

fate and instinct were one

and the same. But if I

really were a penguin,

then I could never know.

HEARTILY RECOMMENDED

Published August 16, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Eighteen years ago, when I was psychology supervisor in a state prison, I led a journal writing group. The book we used was George F. Simons’ Keeping Your Personal Journal, Ballantine 1978.  I lent it to a friend without my name written in the flyleaf, and haven’t seen it again and of course don’t recall who I lent it to.

But I do know I haven’t come across another book on journal keeping with so much hard-core encouraging information.  First I got an “out of stock” response from Amazon but kept on persevering and it arrived today and I’m seriously starting anew. I know this will be my final journal, and all the imperfections and embarrassments will still be with me, but hopefully some good insights and attempts at self-forgiveness will materialize.  Except for rare entries, mine will have to be “typewritten” and pasted, due to my deteriorated handwriting. A hardbound journal does better than I do at maintaining sequencing!

Pity the Poor Poet….

Published August 9, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Who searches and listens

with open heart and a healthy

Muse, awaiting  the bursting

forth of a metaphor reflecting

that in life which is soulful,

gentle, appreciative of both

nature and humanity,

loving appreciations for

justice, honesty and the milk

of human kindness, but

which arrives  full blown as

a plateful of poop, accompanied

by the words “I am your mouth!.”

 

nan

“Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” Re-blog

Published August 5, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Gives grief life!

luckyotter's avatarLucky Otters Haven

dylan
Dylan Thomas (1914 – 1953) wrote one of the most powerful and moving poems of all time, and this one has always been my favorite.

It’s been said to be about old age, but in these dark times, it has another meaning to me.

I never considered myself a patriot before, but now that my country seems to be broken beyond repair, I’m realizing I do in fact have a deep patriotic streak and am willing to fight for its survival.  This poem brings out that part of me and has the power to move me to tears.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they

View original post 171 more words

You Are Not Your Scars (Re-blog)

Published August 5, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Taking this to heart:

childofcynicism's avatarThe One in Four

“Youhavescarsonyourarm.” People sometimes approach me, whilst staring at my limb. My first and foremost reaction is to look down at my arm in fake surprise and panic, pretending I hadn’t previously realised the marks. Thank you Captain Obvious for your insightful input.

Sarcasm aside, I am more than happy to explain the cause of the raised streaks: when I can tell that a person is genuinely intrigued-and not intending to belittle me. I am comfortable with admitting that I did this to myself at low points in my life. That’s what happened. Why should I be ashamed of that?

I do not blame those who stare, or those who sneak a peek when they don’t realise that I can still see them out of the corner of my eye. It’s different. It’s human nature to feel that desire to take a second glance at the…

View original post 263 more words

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