Generational Environment Song

(Sung to London Bridge is Falling Down)

Nature's trees are falling down,
falling down, falling down,
Nature's trees are falling down,
the poor environment.

Find some kids to hold them up,
hold them up, hold them up,
Find some kids to hold them up,
save the environment.

Teach the kids to love nature,
love nature, love nature,
Teach the kids to love nature,
generational environment.

(Photo by Lisa (Allen) Kennard)

NEW BIKINI DEBUT

WITH GORGEOUS WEATHER
I WENT,
I WENT.
DONNED MY NEW BIKINI
HURRAY,
HURRAY.
WADED IN FREEZING COLD WATER
BRR,
BRR.
BROUGHT MY HUSBAND AND NIECE
TO FROLIC,
TO PLAY.
HELLO FROM YORK BEACH, MAINE
YESTER-
DAY.

(Photo by Raymond Kennard, Jr.)

Magnolia Tree

Several years ago I decided to get myself a Magnolia tree.
I planted it in the backyard, next to my roses, Forsythia, and Lilac .
It has gotten much taller than they.
It has become a fascination for me.
The woody pink blooms are out for a few days...then they habitually go away.
If it rains whilst out, they go away while you are stuck inside.
If you're lucky, like I was, you can capture a photo or two, to tide you over until next spring.
When this Magnolia tree grows as tall as our house, it will be our shade tree in the backyard.
I will welcome it with open arms each year.
I will take its winning photo each year.
I will crown it the winner each year!
I will...I will...I will...

(Photo by Lisa (Allen) Kennard)

Environmentalists on Kennard Road

To me, this photo is the epitome of recycling. Found on Kennard Road in Nottingham, this fancy mailbox sports a childhood toy and holiday decorations. These ornaments have outlived their prime on the inside of the house and have now become outside ornamentation. The initial purpose has been satisfied...now the decor is being re-purposed, recycled, and reborn.

This is not trash! It's not meant to rot, or not, in the landfill. No, to some this broken horse with a hole on the other side emits character. Not just the character of the childhood plaything, but the character of the person who recycled it: a true environmentalist.

To me, re-purposing and recycling are very smart. It takes imaginative minds to look beyond an object's primary use. It takes forward-thinkers to realize the value of finding new tasks for old things. He who has little, values his possessions...the same goes for environmentalists. He who has little, values possessions great and small, whether his or not.

Environmentalists care not only for his/her tiny piece of the world, but for the environment as a whole. Like my husband, an environmentalist takes a lazy walk down a rocky gravel road, picking up discarded aluminum cans tossed out vehicle windows by others. He brings home those discarded cans, combines them with his own, and stores them for a year until he's got twenty garbage bags full. Then takes them down to the scrap metal place a year later. His proud accumulation of discarded metal cans nets him fifty-bucks.

On Kennard Road in Nottingham you will find this re-purposed mailbox ornamentation. You will also find my husband lazily walking down our rocky gravel road, picking up discarded aluminum cans that non-environmentalist toss out their vehicle windows. Please don't toss your cans, recycle them and you, too, could net fifty-bucks!

(Photo by Lisa (Allen) Kennard 2009)

Flickr: Your Photostream

Flickr: Your Photostream

I am now on Flickr and will begin to post some of my pictures and add little notes about them.
For example: Facial Expressions: 'Worried About Getting Caught' and 'Visiting the Cows'

A Good Laugh

Ha, ha, ha!
There's nothing like a good laugh to put one in a better mood. I'm not talking about a little chuckle. I'm referring to a full-out, belly-bobbing, roaring laugh that is uncontrollable. One that nearly makes you pee, and cry, and/or both at the same time.


Ha, ha, ha!
I love a good laugh. Not a harmful laugh that comes from playing a rotten trick on someone. That's just wrong. The laughs I love are the ones brought on innocently, like spying antics of a child.

If laughter is the best medicine, I should be very healthy.

WEEPING WILLOW TREES

(Photo by Curtis Tasker, 2009)

When I was a child, our house was surrounded by Weeping Willow trees. The house was a white Colonial in a lazy, sleepy town. Collectively, the four Weeping Willows consumed our acre backyard.

Amid the Willows were other things...tall grass that we hid in to get out of doing chores...a swing set with swings, glider, and slide...a Twirlie-Bird so four of us eight siblings could have fun at the same time...a sandbox that was actually a rowboat.

Railroad ties angled to form a patio that we laboured over, and lined with flat rocks. One set of rocks we made into a butterfly, plus other shapes as well.

Against the house, off the patio, was a garden filled with Lilacs...both purple and white...their fragrance held in favor all these many years since those whiffs that floated on summer's breeze.

When the wind blew, the Weeping Willows swayed, their pliable limbs bending to the whims of the breeze. I was jealous of the limbs...for they were free! Two of my favorite memories of childhood are of scents: those of Lilacs and Weeping Willow trees.