Skip to main content

Ditsy






Ditsy has a brain made of polka dots.
Or is it ice cream?
You can ask her why she is wearing a flowerpot for a hat, she’ll say it’s not a hat, she just didn’t have a pocket the right size for it. One never knows when one will need a flowerpot. But why the shoes on her feet don’t match: mystery.
Because, Tuesday?
Ditsy has an apron, a polka dot apron.
It has exactly the right sized pocket for a flowerpot.
But if she moves the pot now, her hair will look silly!
She will put her hat in the pocket instead. And a stick of rhubarb. And some sequins, for later.




Comments

Luana Krause said…
Cute post. Ditsy girls and flower pots. I get it. Happy blogging.
4 April 2015 at 21:23
Cherdo said…
Ditsy's name and brain go together nicely.
5 April 2015 at 00:04
Geo. said…
Cultural anthropologists have spent far too little time studying the Ditsy and their contribution to the survival of human sanity. There is scriptural consensus that the meek shall inherit the earth, but my research shows they won't manage it without the Ditsy.
5 April 2015 at 01:58
Anonymous said…
I definitely can relate as sometimes ditzy myself :) Very fun choice for D!

http://bit2read.com/
5 April 2015 at 03:24
Kern Windwraith said…
"And some sequins, for later" - love it!
5 April 2015 at 04:43
Lisa Southard said…
These girls are the epitome of ditsy :-) Happy blogging!
5 April 2015 at 10:07
Lisa Southard said…
A very entertaining blend :-)
5 April 2015 at 10:07
Lisa Southard said…
Life is weak without the Ditsy- I owe them much! Part Ditsy myself, if you can believe that :-)
5 April 2015 at 10:08
Lisa Southard said…
Always- an element of chaos that prevents life from becoming routine :-)
5 April 2015 at 10:09
Lisa Southard said…
I celebrate all forms of Ditsy :-)
5 April 2015 at 10:10
Lisa Southard said…
Sequins are always useful :-) Thank you!
5 April 2015 at 10:10
Jo said…
I thought Ditsy was always blond.
5 April 2015 at 18:34
Stephen Tremp said…
Laughing at Jo'c comment hahaha!
6 April 2015 at 20:38
Lisa Southard said…
I have observed various Ditsys, they appear in all shades :-)
6 April 2015 at 21:21
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
2 comments
Read more

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...
26 comments
Read more

Hometime Foam Time

It was hot outside, cold indoors. When we were freed from the hall I opened my car thinking oven gloves might be required for driving. I was weary. I was lined up for a row of shifts- but the evenings are lighter now, and the beach was calling. I drove a wiggly route to Veryan (the road I chose was closed) and down to Carne Beach. Since I had checked the weather the wind had turned easterly, and the tide was in. There were waves smacking over a disappearing line of fine sand. Undeterred I wriggled my swimsuit on and went to play in the foam.  Neither air nor sea was particularly cold. Blue and cloud patterned sky, blue and turquoise patterned sea, flowers blooming and swooshed by the wind, and the warm brown crags of rock: to be here was to be directly connected to the source of all existence.  Home time was foam time, and vice versa. Afterwards I sat in my car, door open, eating a square of dark chocolate, watching the white flecks and trying to work out if the dark dot was a...
Post a Comment
Read more