Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for January 03, 2018

Nosecicles are the worst..

Might as well be medicated.

Are these sniffles becoming maddened? Or, perhaps, Madden-ed?

Just another undocumented feature of the Winter Wonderland.

And a cough to go with the sniffling, my lungs are now officially dislodged and inside out.

Life becomes so pathetic…

Added to the eternal corvée of chronic bronchitis.

A prominent bloom in that lovely and varied bouquet, Seasonal Affective Disorder, winter onset variety.

Once had a bloodhound named Sniffles.

He didn’t like cold weather, and decided that the garage was warmer than his dog house. He’d howl until he got his way. Didn’t care for the our home, but loved the garage, for some reason. Weird dog.

Makes we want to scream, I just want to Gogh, maybe I will Munch on something.

On the good side (such as it is): Hearing your spit crack before it hits the ground. Writing your name in the snow (this is for boys only) (I would think…).

On the other hand, it is the perfect cover for that little blow habit you have been nurturing, and not needing a new winter coat is just a bonus. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Suzy Snowflake, stop motion animation.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaUBpsn4QjQ

I love the texture in this image! The curvy, drippy lines!

Working on my little 7 inch tablet, it looked like a real photograph at first, till I enlarged it, then, surprise! It transformed into a cartoon landscape.

~

As Radish already noted, I was immediately reminded of Munch’s “The Scream.”

Very appropriate! When I looked it up, I found that Munch had also written a poem to go with the painting. One of the versions:

The Great Scream in Nature~

I was walking along the road with two friends

The Sun was setting – the Sky turned blood-red.

And I felt a wave of Sadness – I paused

tired to Death – Above the blue-black

Fjord and City

My friends walked on – I stayed

behind – quaking with Angst – I

felt the great Scream in Nature

If Teresa wouldn’t hang out in the trees, spying on people and raining words down upon them, maybe her unrelenting winter sniffles would relent, at least a little. And is that too much to ask?

Get thee indoors, Sister! Thy nose is autonomically besniffled out there in those trees!

The nose and the telephone wire stoken with fire

Frosty the Snowman with post-nasal congestion.

No whining from the nose.