tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-100234542024-02-03T06:49:57.398+00:00Squidjiggin' GroundsJiggin' up my mind squids with the squid ink flying
(with apologies to
Hank Snow)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-43924093289262841652013-01-18T16:56:00.002+00:002013-11-07T14:35:50.159+00:00Songs My Father Sang to Me<div class="contenthead">
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It Ain't Gonna Rain No More </h1>
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<b>Chorus:</b><br />Oh, it ain't gonna rain no more, no more<br />It ain't gonna rain no more<br />How in the heck can I wash around my neck<br />if it ain't gonna rain no more<br /><br /><b>Verses</b>: <br />
<br />
Rabbi sittin' on the railroad track<br />
Readin' his Bruchus <br />
Along came the nine oh five and<br />
Hit him in the tuchas<br />
- Chorus<br />
<br />
Dog walkin' on the railroad track <br />
Didn't hear the whistle<br />
Toot! Toot!<br />
Hot dogs in a shisl!<br />
<br />
A bum sittin' by the sewer<br />And by the sewer he died<br />
So at the coroners inquest<br />They called it 'sewer side'<br />
- Chorus<br /><br />A peanut sat on the railroad track<br />It's heart was all a-flutter<br />Along came the 4:15<br />Toot toot, peanut butter<br />- Chorus<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />My father is a butcher<br />My mother is a cook<br />And I'm the little hot-dog<br />With the candy that I took<br />- Chorus<br /><br />My father built a chimney<br />He built it up so high<br />He had to take it down each night<br />To let the moon go by.<br />- Chorus<br /><br />My daddy is a doctor,<br />My mommy is a nurse,<br />And I'm the little needle<br />That gets you where it hurts.<br />- Chorus<br /><br />Mary had a little lamb<br />She kept it in a closet<br />And every time she took it out<br />It had left a small deposit<br />- Chorus<br /><br />Mary had a little lamb,<br />Her father shot it dead<br />Oh, she still takes it off to school<br />But on a slice of bread. <br />- Chorus<br /><br />Mary had a steamboat<br />The steamboat had a bell.<br />Mary went to heaven.<br />The steamboat went to TOOT-TOOT!<br />- Chorus<br /><br />My uncle was a chemist.<br />A chemist he is no more.<br />For what he thought was H-2-O<br />Was H-2-S-O-4<br />- Chorus<br /><br />Peter was a rabbit<br />A rabbit he is no more<br />For what he thought was a rabbit hole<br />Was a hole in the outhouse floor<br />- ChorusUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-30729208255348692542011-08-31T19:18:00.001+00:002011-08-31T19:24:52.061+00:00The Kraken<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://drewcoughlan.com/websites/mm/monsters/kraken/kraken%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://drewcoughlan.com/websites/mm/monsters/kraken/kraken%5B1%5D.jpg" /><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=1241667276&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Below the thunders of the upper deep, <br />
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea, <br />
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep <br />
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee <br />
About his shadowy sides; above him swell <br />
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height; <br />
And far away into the sickly light, <br />
From many a wondrous and secret cell <br />
Unnumber'd and enormous polypi <br />
Winnow with giant arms the lumbering green. <br />
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie <br />
Battening upon huge sea-worms in his sleep, <br />
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep; <br />
Then once by man and angels to be seen, <br />
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred,_Lord_Tennyson"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Alfred, Lord Tennyson </span>6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-67845948649642623032010-12-23T17:21:00.001+00:002010-12-23T21:57:20.376+00:00The Lady and the Ape<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.freakingnews.com/pictures/8000/Shaving-8270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://www.freakingnews.com/pictures/8000/Shaving-8270.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sheltonmedia.blogspot.com/2010/11/are-you-spinning-your-wheels-houston.html"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAlHMLtaFxwKfjkkT34uQqVOzj_n0NQALOEgvR_4vtYvlpVfZOS2iYFFAPR8Q8yFxU-qiA3EY1E5HVuH_J2j9sru_7Efxy4M2-tGBXsak1l-qtppI_xNarfrHhXePXM3Z1_qCXhQ/s320/monkey_in_tuxedo_5i4g.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>A Lady fair, of lineage high,<br />
Was loved by an Ape, in the days gone by.<br />
The Maid was radiant as the sun,<br />
The Ape was a most unsightly one,<br />
The Ape was a most unsightly one<br />
So it would not do<br />
His scheme fell through,<br />
For the Maid, when his love took formal shape,<br />
Express'd such terror<br />
At his monstrous error,<br />
That he stammer'd an apology and made his 'scape,<br />
The picture of a disconcerted Ape.<br />
<br />
With a view to rise in the social scale,<br />
He shaved his bristles and he docked his tail,<br />
He grew mustachios, and he took his tub,<br />
And he paid a guinea to a toilet club,<br />
He paid a guinea to a toilet club<br />
But it would not do,<br />
The scheme fell through<br />
For the Maid was Beauty's fairest Queen,<br />
With golden tresses,<br />
Like a real princess's,<br />
While the Ape, despite his razor keen,<br />
Was the apiest Ape that ever was seen!<br />
<br />
He bought white ties, and he bought dress suits,<br />
He crammed his feet into bright tight boots<br />
And to start in life on a brand new plan,<br />
He christen'd himself Darwinian Man!<br />
He christen'd himself Darwinian Man!<br />
But it would not do,<br />
The scheme fell through<br />
For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey crav'd,<br />
Was a radiant Being,<br />
With a brain farseeing<br />
While Darwinian Man, though well-behav'd,<br />
At best is only a monkey shav'd!<br />
<br />
For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey crav'd,<br />
Was a radiant Being,<br />
With a brain farseeing<br />
While Darwinian Man, though well-behav'd,<br />
At best is only a monkey shav'd!<br />
<br />
W.S. Gilbert, "The Lady and the Ape<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=0198161743&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>" from "Princess Ida"Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-70764115325151822272010-11-08T16:20:00.000+00:002010-11-08T16:20:07.109+00:00More of Grandma Tess' Riddles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://etc.usf.edu/clipart/63600/63639/63639_girl_candle_md.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="http://etc.usf.edu/clipart/63600/63639/63639_girl_candle_md.gif" width="320" /></a></div><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=0064442276&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>Little Miss Etticoat, <br />
In her white petticoat, <br />
Has a red nose; <br />
The longer she stands, <br />
The shorter she grows.<br />
<br />
What is she?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A CANDLE!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-88138233795800403182010-11-08T16:12:00.000+00:002010-11-08T16:12:52.181+00:00Grandma Tess' Riddles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://web.wm.edu/americanstudies/370/2007/sp8/history_steeplechase.html"><img border="0" height="316" src="http://web.wm.edu/americanstudies/370/2007/sp8/images/steeplechase-ticket.jpg" width="320" /> Steeplechase Ticket</a></div><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=157324712X&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
<br />
Thirty white horses<br />
Upon a red hill;<br />
Here they clamp<br />
There they stamp<br />
Now they stand still.<br />
<br />
What are they? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
TEETH!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-43151858163170638482010-11-08T15:59:00.002+00:002010-11-08T16:02:30.317+00:00Yet More Rhymes from Grandma Tess<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.spasticnation.com/blog/rsd.php?blogid=1&archive=2006-09"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://spasticnation.com/blog/media/1/20060911-Swimmin_Hole_2006_01_web.jpg" width="320" /> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ye Olde Swimmin' Hole<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=0374416109&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></div><b><br />
</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Mother, may I go out to swim?<br />
Yes, my darling daughter,<br />
Hang your clothes on a hickory limb,<br />
But don't go near the water !</b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-36752516752542437232010-09-06T17:25:00.001+00:002011-08-31T20:53:22.007+00:00The Weary Blues by Langston Hughes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.freevideogamestuff.com/wp-content/uploads/ChildLabor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://www.freevideogamestuff.com/wp-content/uploads/ChildLabor.jpg" width="320" /><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=0679764089&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></a></div><br />
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0"><tbody>
<tr><td valign="top" width="80%"><span class="TITLE">The Weary Blues</span> </td> <td align="right" colspan="2" nowrap="nowrap" valign="top"> </td> </tr>
<tr><td colspan="3"><br />
</td></tr>
<tr><td colspan="3"><br />
</td> </tr>
<tr><td colspan="2" valign="top"><pre>Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
He did a lazy sway . . .
He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o' those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man's soul.
O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan--
"Ain't got nobody in all this world,
Ain't got nobody but ma self.
I's gwine to quit ma frownin'
And put ma troubles on the shelf."
Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more--
"I got the Weary Blues
And I can't be satisfied.
Got the Weary Blues
And can't be satisfied--
I ain't happy no mo'
And I wish that I had died."
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.</pre><pre> </pre><pre> </pre><pre>by Langston Hughes </pre></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-1041625592175943622010-06-19T00:36:00.008+00:002010-08-17T13:40:51.382+00:00Mali Nai Coulibaly "The Cheater"<a href="http://worldreferee.com/img/referee/coulibaly_koman2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://worldreferee.com/img/referee/coulibaly_koman2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 449px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 345px;" /><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B002NJL2JY&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></a><br />
Edu let the third goal fly but the Malian referee, <a href="http://network.yardbarker.com/All_Sports/article_external/The_Cheater_African_Soccer_Ref_Strikes_Yet_Again/2763719">Coulibaly</a> said,"Nai! Nai!"<br />
<br />
The mystery of the phantom and unexplained, inexplicable foul.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-42856910018274293232010-02-27T03:52:00.013+00:002010-08-17T13:46:35.350+00:00Potatoes--Originated in Peru--Spread from Chile<a href="http://www.toledoonthemove.com/uploadedImages/Shared/Weather/Agriculture/Other_Stories/potatoes.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.toledoonthemove.com/uploadedImages/Shared/Weather/Agriculture/Other_Stories/potatoes.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 482px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 524px;" /></a><br />
Potatoes<br />
<br />
<a href="http://z.about.com/d/gourmetfood/1/0/q/K/irishpotatocakes_potatoboard.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://z.about.com/d/gourmetfood/1/0/q/K/irishpotatocakes_potatoboard.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 395px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /></a><br />
Irish boxty potatoes<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.oxnosh.co.uk/recipes/recipe_photos/1234017349.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.oxnosh.co.uk/recipes/recipe_photos/1234017349.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 334px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /></a><br />
German rosti potatoes<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://assets1.likeme.net/35093/large/pommes_frites.png.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://assets1.likeme.net/35093/large/pommes_frites.png.jpg" /><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=0060096756&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"><a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Potato-Propitious-Esculent-John-Reader/dp/0300141092?ie=UTF8&amp;tag=squidjground-20&amp;link_code=btl&amp;camp=213689&amp;creative=392969">Potato: A History of the Propitious Esculent</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=squidjground-20&amp;l=btl&amp;camp=213689&amp;creative=392969&amp;o=1&amp;a=0300141092" alt="" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" border="0" height="1" width="1"></iframe></a></div><a href="http://www.fotos.sc/img2/u/inmoments/n/Pommes_Frites_Pommes_Imbiss_Mayonaise_fettig_Hunger.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br />
</a><span style="color: #cc0000;">Pommes frites--"French fries"--originated in Belgium served with mayonnaise</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.learninghowtocook.com/site/images/recipeImages/0611098721210/Latkes.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.learninghowtocook.com/site/images/recipeImages/0611098721210/Latkes.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" />Latkes--potato pancakes</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.indobase.com/recipes/recipe_image/aloo-palak.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.indobase.com/recipes/recipe_image/aloo-palak.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 160px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 130%;">Aloo palak</span></a>, Indian potoes with spinach<br />
<br />
What did Eurasia do before potatoes were brought from the new world?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-37811447114591669892010-02-27T03:44:00.006+00:002010-08-17T13:52:31.357+00:00Europe Had No Vanilla Before Columbus & Cortez<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.fruittiyogi.com/images/flavor_vanilla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.fruittiyogi.com/images/flavor_vanilla.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="http://www.ecigstore.co.za/images/Vanilla%20Bean%20Ice%20Cream%20500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br />
</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://comps.fotosearch.com/comp/UNE/UNE002/single-vanilla-flower_%7Eu19844718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B0009S5ATO&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></a></div>Can you imagine European cuisine and desserts without vanilla or chocolate or tomatoes?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-15561783610907648822010-02-27T03:28:00.007+00:002011-08-31T20:58:13.856+00:00Europe Had No Chocolates Pre-Columbus!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.zbrushcentral.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=124340" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.zbrushcentral.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=124340" /></a></div><a href="http://www.naturallygreencacaobeans.co.uk/images/cacao-liqour.png"><br />
<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=squidjground-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B0002RQ1JU&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-31588591298911715532010-02-27T03:07:00.005+00:002010-02-27T03:21:31.177+00:00What did Italians Eat Before Columbus?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://wholefoodusa.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/heirloom-tomatoes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 471px; height: 435px;" src="http://wholefoodusa.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/heirloom-tomatoes.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Pasta with tomato-based sauces? Sun-dried tomatoes? Panzanella?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-61922700905741705982009-10-31T21:14:00.004+00:002009-10-31T21:24:34.973+00:00The Bells<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.visitcumbria.com/kendal/kendal-ringobells3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 430px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.visitcumbria.com/kendal/kendal-ringobells3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The Bells <br /><br /> Hear the sledges with the bells--<br /> Silver bells!<br />What a world of merriment their melody foretells!<br /> How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,<br /> In the icy air of night!<br /> While the stars that oversprinkle<br /> All the heavens, seem to twinkle<br /> With a crystalline delight;<br /> Keeping time, time, time,<br /> In a sort of Runic rhyme,<br />To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells<br /> From the bells, bells, bells, bells,<br /> Bells, bells, bells--<br />From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.<br /><br /> Hear the mellow wedding bells<br /> Golden bells!<br />What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!<br /> Through the balmy air of night<br /> How they ring out their delight!<br /> From the molten-golden notes,<br /> And all in tune,<br /> What a liquid ditty floats<br /> To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats<br /> On the moon!<br /> Oh, from out the sounding cells,<br />What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!<br /> How it swells!<br /> How it dwells<br /> On the Future! how it tells<br /> Of the rapture that impels<br /> To the swinging and the ringing<br /> Of the bells, bells, bells,<br /> Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,<br /> Bells, bells, bells--<br />To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!<br /><br /> Hear the loud alarum bells--<br /> Brazen bells!<br />What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!<br /> In the startled ear of night<br /> How they scream out their affright!<br /> Too much horrified to speak,<br /> They can only shriek, shriek,<br /> Out of tune,<br />In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,<br />In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,<br /> Leaping higher, higher, higher,<br /> With a desperate desire,<br /> And a resolute endeavor<br /> Now--now to sit or never,<br /> By the side of the pale-faced moon.<br /> Oh, the bells, bells, bells!<br /> What a tale their terror tells<br /> Of Despair!<br /><br /> How they clang, and clash, and roar!<br /> What a horror they outpour<br /><br />On the bosom of the palpitating air!<br /> Yet the ear, it fully knows,<br /> By the twanging,<br /> And the clanging,<br /> How the danger ebbs and flows ;<br /> Yet, the ear distinctly tells,<br /> In the jangling,<br /> And the wrangling,<br /> How the danger sinks and swells,<br />By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells--<br /> Of the bells--<br /> Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,<br /> Bells, bells, bells--<br />In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!<br /><br /> Hear the tolling of the bells--<br /> Iron bells!<br />What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!<br /> In the silence of the night,<br /> How we shiver with affright<br />At the melancholy meaning of their tone!<br /> For every sound that floats<br /> From the rust within their throats<br /> Is a groan.<br /> And the people--ah, the people--<br /> They that dwell up in the steeple,<br /> All alone,<br /> And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,<br /> In that muffled monotone,<br /> Feel a glory in so rolling<br /> On the human heart a stone--<br /> They are neither man nor woman--<br /> They are neither brute nor human--<br /> They are Ghouls:--<br /> And their king it is who tolls;<br /> And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,<br /> Rolls<br /> A pæan from the bells!<br /> And his merry bosom swells<br /> With the pæan of the bells!<br /> And he dances, and he yells;<br /> Keeping time, time, time,<br /> In a sort of Runic rhyme,<br /> To the pæan of the bells--<br /> Of the bells:<br /> Keeping time, time, time,<br /> In a sort of Runic rhyme,<br /> To the throbbing of the bells--<br /> Of the bells, bells, bells--<br /> To the sobbing of the bells;<br /> Keeping time, time, time,<br /> As he knells, knells, knells,<br /> In a happy Runic rhyme,<br /> To the rolling of the bells--<br /> Of the bells, bells, bells--<br /> To the tolling of the bells,<br /> Of the bells, bells, bells, bells--<br /> Bells, bells, bells--<br />To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.<br /><br />Edgar Allan PoeUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-84912131516270289102009-10-30T19:48:00.004+00:002010-10-10T21:02:26.257+00:00When the Frost is on the Punkin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://oodlesandoodles.typepad.com/.a/6a00e5501c3f7d8833010535c19670970b-500wi" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="http://oodlesandoodles.typepad.com/.a/6a00e5501c3f7d8833010535c19670970b-500wi" width="320" /></a></div><a href="http://pubs.caes.uga.edu/caespubs/pubcd/MP117/pumpkin%20frost.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br />
</a><br />
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<br />
WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock, <br />
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock, <br />
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens, <br />
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; <br />
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best, <br />
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest, <br />
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock, <br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. <br />
<br />
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere <br />
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here— <br />
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees, <br />
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees; <br />
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze <br />
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days <br />
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock— <br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. <br />
<br />
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn, <br />
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn; <br />
The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still <br />
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill; <br />
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed; <br />
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!— <br />
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock, <br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. <br />
<br />
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps <br />
Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps; <br />
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through <br />
With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!... <br />
I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be <br />
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me— <br />
I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock— <br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.<br />
<br />
James Whitcomb RileyUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-4098946773136364632009-10-30T17:24:00.004+00:002009-10-30T17:29:28.508+00:00An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.hp-lexicon.org/images/chapters/dh/dh.c15--the-goblins-revenge.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.hp-lexicon.org/about/books/dh/rg-dh15.html&usg=__4dTBrqh6LGfF90UxnJ_B6If96ZA=&h=538&w=432&sz=27&hl=en&start=29&sig2=OI-WJb4TxY2Acdp3kevHiA&um=1&tbnid=XgkX3uyl3pR65M:&tbnh=132&tbnw=106&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgoblins%26ndsp%3D20%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26start%3D20%26um%3D1&ei=DSLrStWeMc61lAeBjPD_BA"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 432px; height: 538px;" src="http://www.hp-lexicon.org/images/chapters/dh/dh.c15--the-goblins-revenge.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE<br /><br />by: James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)<br /><br /> INSCRIBED WITH ALL FAITH AND AFFECTION<br /> <br /> To all the little children: -- The happy ones; and sad ones;<br /> The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;<br /> The good ones -- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.<br /> <br /> LITTLE Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,<br /> An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,<br /> An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,<br /> An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;<br /> An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,<br /> We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun<br /> A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,<br /> An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you<br /> Ef you<br /> Don't<br /> Watch<br /> Out!<br /> <br /> Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--<br /> An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,<br /> His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,<br /> An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!<br /> An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,<br /> An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;<br /> But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout:--<br /> An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you<br /> Ef you<br /> Don't<br /> Watch<br /> Out!<br /> <br /> An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,<br /> An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;<br /> An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there,<br /> She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!<br /> An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,<br /> They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,<br /> An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!<br /> An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you<br /> Ef you<br /> Don't<br /> Watch<br /> Out!<br /> <br /> An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,<br /> An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!<br /> An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,<br /> An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--<br /> You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,<br /> An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,<br /> An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,<br /> Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you<br /> Ef you<br /> Don't<br /> Watch<br /> Out!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-80369016031779565882009-09-29T19:58:00.001+00:002009-09-29T20:15:15.002+00:00Health Care Reform--Who Needs It?<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_tnhVwgrPBg&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_tnhVwgrPBg&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/b28XtVR-I60&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/b28XtVR-I60&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-7773657820938981112009-09-18T16:38:00.009+00:002009-09-18T17:00:02.037+00:00The Owl and the Pussy Cat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.runciblespoonrestaurant.com/earlysign.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 751px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.runciblespoonrestaurant.com/earlysign.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdWfQLAAFpbHxmy95vv32UgxKiloQkC_QSkExMdRfwPL0mG6c-FZdaNs4O3zap1DXFEPpmQpZeoCuJP50YfIazhHftFc5iCQP7y3WPZWarVvR-iUYB-oq0t4V5NmZ_vfMdT67/s1600-h/runcible0001-3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdWfQLAAFpbHxmy95vv32UgxKiloQkC_QSkExMdRfwPL0mG6c-FZdaNs4O3zap1DXFEPpmQpZeoCuJP50YfIazhHftFc5iCQP7y3WPZWarVvR-iUYB-oq0t4V5NmZ_vfMdT67/s320/runcible0001-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382851102881593362" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea<br />In a beautiful pea green boat,<br />They took some honey, and plenty of money,<br />Wrapped up in a five pound note.<br />The Owl looked up to the stars above,<br />And sang to a small guitar,<br />'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,<br />What a beautiful Pussy you are,<br /> You are,<br /> You are!<br />What a beautiful Pussy you are!'<br /><br />Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!<br />How charmingly sweet you sing!<br />O let us be married! too long we have tarried:<br />But what shall we do for a ring?'<br />They sailed away, for a year and a day,<br />To the land where the Bong-tree grows<br />And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood<br />With a ring at the end of his nose,<br /> His nose,<br /> His nose,<br />With a ring at the end of his nose.<br /><br />'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling<br />Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'<br />So they took it away, and were married next day<br />By the Turkey who lives on the hill.<br />They dined on mince, and slices of quince,<br />Which they ate with a runcible spoon;<br />And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,<br />They danced by the light of the moon,<br /> The moon,<br /> The moon,<br />They danced by the light of the moon.<br /><br />Edward Lear<br /><br /><br />art by Margie Van AukenUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-67370413735049057512009-09-10T14:19:00.003+00:002009-09-10T14:29:56.235+00:00The Lost Chord<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hornerhistory.com/toc.htm"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 493px; height: 768px;" src="http://www.hornerhistory.com/images/uk/John%20Henry%20Horner%20c1930%20-%20Sowerby%20Organist.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><h2 style="font-weight: bold;">The lost chord</h2><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span> <pre><span style="font-weight: bold;">Seated one day at the organ,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I was weary and ill-at-ease;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And my fingers wandered idly</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Over the noisy keys.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I know not what I was playing</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Or what I was dreaming then,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">But I struck one chord of music</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Like the sound of a great Amen.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It flooded the crimson twilight</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Like the close of an angel's psalm,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And it lay on my fevered spirit</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">With a touch of infinite calm.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It quieted pain and sorrow</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Like love overcoming strife;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It seemed the harmonious echo</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">From our discordant life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It linked all perplexèd meanings</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Into one perfect peace,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And trembled away into silence</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">As if it were loth to cease.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I have sought, but I seek it vainly,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">That one lost chord divine,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Which came from the soul of the organ</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And entered into mine.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It may be that death's bright angel</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Will speak in that chord again;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It may be that only in heav'n</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I shall hear that grand Amen.</span><br /><br />Adelaide Anne Procter<br /><br /></pre>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-49166329734294629732009-09-08T01:41:00.006+00:002009-09-08T01:45:55.699+00:00Haniwa Figure 埴輪 (Reproduction)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7KCVSukyTSY_4XkPvXRZ06QysXKKU05ZP7t2qFBmMHGYgNAofWB5dtwxj0Uu-NrtgSlsrzl5anDKldrbpURW4tf0QWvTz2AhKTslpgiCIYYKBmtthK9wyOGH1s_pYQUE60Z5R/s1600-h/P1040320.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7KCVSukyTSY_4XkPvXRZ06QysXKKU05ZP7t2qFBmMHGYgNAofWB5dtwxj0Uu-NrtgSlsrzl5anDKldrbpURW4tf0QWvTz2AhKTslpgiCIYYKBmtthK9wyOGH1s_pYQUE60Z5R/s400/P1040320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378906742693578914" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Birdcatcher Figure</span></span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-937091978909054772009-09-08T00:47:00.011+00:002016-01-17T20:51:12.912+00:00Kamakura Raku Chawan 鎌倉楽茶碗<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9STYoZMFqIqp0YbrHP9mlCamufOcVFXeysjaXwH-_SscvKhaGl_WBywBXjGtbzZgVjyfn5Y4XAD0vEpOr62Y-Q_CwCRxzymHevlCmmUH6gNJh6XZKLT-HT0TU27pck5JxXt86/s1600-h/P1040283.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378893147678236210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9STYoZMFqIqp0YbrHP9mlCamufOcVFXeysjaXwH-_SscvKhaGl_WBywBXjGtbzZgVjyfn5Y4XAD0vEpOr62Y-Q_CwCRxzymHevlCmmUH6gNJh6XZKLT-HT0TU27pck5JxXt86/s640/P1040283.JPG" style="float: right; height: 300px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 400px;" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5pBOo5hqgo5_LxbeTSGrtjhusYkOCKMK96MML4DJm1GOhiH7QOW2LuB02N4uzQX-a7AT6MNp1iM3muqN7MM5tkE3ICD7pZxjXFvOagy_JCbCi_OIk54s1DaEU9-OJGBSe5trf/s1600-h/P1040285.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378892874926379106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5pBOo5hqgo5_LxbeTSGrtjhusYkOCKMK96MML4DJm1GOhiH7QOW2LuB02N4uzQX-a7AT6MNp1iM3muqN7MM5tkE3ICD7pZxjXFvOagy_JCbCi_OIk54s1DaEU9-OJGBSe5trf/s320/P1040285.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
Kamakura Raku Chawan<br />
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鎌倉楽茶碗<br />
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<span style="font-size: 78%;">circa 1982</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-82729383289462433912009-09-08T00:13:00.012+00:002009-09-08T01:16:10.715+00:00Koryo Celadon (Reproduction) 高麗靑磁器<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincPt9KwSSx3CDaCVl3bASmfdeRhJAYf2xKFuZS6pX5UD9kfLtHRBJgh3SzrAQ2wnPu548G_4Zbb38M8MVNMwHg50cIVqTXuAZWtjmMYONKHrYv0Qa4pNxf1eJYTfjyXwg3ROs/s1600-h/P1040293.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincPt9KwSSx3CDaCVl3bASmfdeRhJAYf2xKFuZS6pX5UD9kfLtHRBJgh3SzrAQ2wnPu548G_4Zbb38M8MVNMwHg50cIVqTXuAZWtjmMYONKHrYv0Qa4pNxf1eJYTfjyXwg3ROs/s400/P1040293.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378884336252942114" border="0" /></a>Koryo Celadon 高麗靑磁器<br /><br />Reproduction<br /><br />The crane symbolized longevity<br /><br />The color is called 'pisaek' 翡色 or "kingfisher blue," like the color of the sky after a rain.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgzUPJWGCLwVUwoFr-P5SmKqpIPED6eHRhUofiMBzlO3OcMoa_s7_y02Rio-jPtxTTXgwg9JMFLkBouVIb4jA3p4fvEcMYlAMzqbplDHv-ubrUXH7xYwuSD0FItDpyx0cNVRn/s1600-h/P1040291.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgzUPJWGCLwVUwoFr-P5SmKqpIPED6eHRhUofiMBzlO3OcMoa_s7_y02Rio-jPtxTTXgwg9JMFLkBouVIb4jA3p4fvEcMYlAMzqbplDHv-ubrUXH7xYwuSD0FItDpyx0cNVRn/s400/P1040291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378883939886341730" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-77953929873900150192009-09-06T18:29:00.004+00:002009-09-06T18:33:42.556+00:00Karatsu Yaki Fugu Plate 唐津焼河豚皿<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUD26RkM-90bb3aW1zl5VPDSy42dbaUGnXr3K27GXBHpWIDjRNFcybfHCni9fZ0w2aI3dkRYF09W4iok61yu_Fza1QYvniF1c9JFye8_Oy23CPXbOiJ7wiCEJkyGUiDxLMcEOc/s1600-h/P1040278.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUD26RkM-90bb3aW1zl5VPDSy42dbaUGnXr3K27GXBHpWIDjRNFcybfHCni9fZ0w2aI3dkRYF09W4iok61yu_Fza1QYvniF1c9JFye8_Oy23CPXbOiJ7wiCEJkyGUiDxLMcEOc/s400/P1040278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378424065545667954" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">唐津焼河豚皿<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-26933031406035187202009-09-06T18:21:00.004+00:002009-09-06T18:24:54.341+00:00Mashiko Ware Teacup Set 益子焼湯飲み<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwmyzZzb7smQ7DYPfhbsuPT8zhSs5J8pORO8Zh7Pui4i8qDJKuMJzOPAI6pHWqbDoFsJFRD997drxuoxIIj_tAtur5A1KjtNWN5ZZ_vQB2V1jmRHCNIKHDgJlDbgB13_O18dt/s1600-h/P1040269.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwmyzZzb7smQ7DYPfhbsuPT8zhSs5J8pORO8Zh7Pui4i8qDJKuMJzOPAI6pHWqbDoFsJFRD997drxuoxIIj_tAtur5A1KjtNWN5ZZ_vQB2V1jmRHCNIKHDgJlDbgB13_O18dt/s400/P1040269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378421712748839938" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Mashiko Ware Teacup Set 益子焼湯飲み<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-43610423829605224712009-09-06T18:13:00.004+00:002009-09-06T18:18:48.843+00:00Mashiko Ware Teacups 益子焼湯飲み #6<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3T3CFvbn-nyEHeKGVnAFqdZcX3kqI84MSQFaZxjxMMnQfBAl8E0ICqFVmoMMZ5d-kbnBSfU0Y_OmtxH7znj9rdLdcvCiUFLvnPQaZKQV927xayuqANJ2Ou0BquVE0YC6_dwNo/s1600-h/P1040268.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3T3CFvbn-nyEHeKGVnAFqdZcX3kqI84MSQFaZxjxMMnQfBAl8E0ICqFVmoMMZ5d-kbnBSfU0Y_OmtxH7znj9rdLdcvCiUFLvnPQaZKQV927xayuqANJ2Ou0BquVE0YC6_dwNo/s320/P1040268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378420345127480530" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6ZTvaE3mYe-NOvYxfVQTr5gvWAlrPUT8z_hA0igIv10uF5P7WpIXJzObk-Z8t7odc8QNFYaHW545Qbj7xXzqTWmUNybZPSq_PPKkqRA_rn4VS9AHuqDiwbfjqP4hyZdBr1le/s1600-h/P1040267.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6ZTvaE3mYe-NOvYxfVQTr5gvWAlrPUT8z_hA0igIv10uF5P7WpIXJzObk-Z8t7odc8QNFYaHW545Qbj7xXzqTWmUNybZPSq_PPKkqRA_rn4VS9AHuqDiwbfjqP4hyZdBr1le/s320/P1040267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378419982007894738" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Mashiko Ware Teacups 益子焼湯飲み #6Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023454.post-52394634973789584522009-09-06T18:00:00.008+00:002009-09-06T18:19:32.138+00:00Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #5<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCQep53ISFhhr7Ziea9kho2yglVe63aHd88OfEJ8D64kK5W33ltIlFaTlUYNOs590NZgDZkOuZqy5JeSN_dkl1_Ms2S-P3z9uqeqTd1MN_6D6ZfY_Qh3vpFg2aCBkwEVCLIHc/s1600-h/P1040257.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCQep53ISFhhr7Ziea9kho2yglVe63aHd88OfEJ8D64kK5W33ltIlFaTlUYNOs590NZgDZkOuZqy5JeSN_dkl1_Ms2S-P3z9uqeqTd1MN_6D6ZfY_Qh3vpFg2aCBkwEVCLIHc/s320/P1040257.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378417084458372322" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6Up4_WRYwcpVv0H5hAv_KgGbNGT1Dz3P4ALPMypTH0dTPUcK8THHqMLNobUgKFtrLSMdxo0bwixbIw8dkvKDCpjyXY5D0_Ld3ope0vN0clIZPCCdAoLrHrdQZRZATQVSiI1K/s1600-h/P1040258.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6Up4_WRYwcpVv0H5hAv_KgGbNGT1Dz3P4ALPMypTH0dTPUcK8THHqMLNobUgKFtrLSMdxo0bwixbIw8dkvKDCpjyXY5D0_Ld3ope0vN0clIZPCCdAoLrHrdQZRZATQVSiI1K/s320/P1040258.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378416752247875458" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #5Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0