Raise Your Glasses: Fancy Some Mimosa?

Are you getting ready for the International Women's Day?

When I was growing up, posters like this one were all over Moscow on March 8th:

It reads, "HAPPY HOLIDAY, COMRADES WOMEN!"

I personally have no problem with this guy. A nice hardworking young man with an open face, a subtle smile and a bunch of flowers. Not my favorite flowers, but I wouldn't go so far as to call them "revolting, disturbing yellow flowers" (Mikhail Bulgakov, "The Master and Margarita") .

"God knows what they're called," he writes, "but for some reason they're the first to appear in Moscow."

Well, in Russia they're called Mimosa, and they're traditional for the International Women's Day celebration.

Mimosa is one of the common names for Acacia dealbata. This species of Acacia is native to Australia and has been naturalized, among other areas, in Sochi located on the Black Sea coast of Russia.

Acacia dealbata is also known as Silver Wattle or Blue Wattle, but to me it's always been Mimosa, so Mimosa it is.

No Mimosa? No problem.
How about a mixed drink of champagne and orange juice?
Go ahead, have a mimosa. Or two.

Happy holiday, comrades women!


Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

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"Moonlight Blues" (poem)

The Think Tank Thursday #87: Moon
(a visual prompt from Poets United)

I wrote this a long time ago, almost twelve years, the prompt made me remember and dig out this poem.  A little melodramatic perhaps :-), but it was written with a lot of heart.

I dedicate this to all women, of all ages, nationalities, and countries, whether or not they celebrate March 8th - may your moonlight blues be dispelled, may your light shine brightly, may faith, hope, and love  sustain you always, and may you be rescued from the dragon's tower by a brave knight worthy of your golden heart!

~ Moonlight Blues ~

The moon is full above,

I’m feeling blue,

When life is sad, my love,

I think of you.

You come to me, my knight,

You take my hand,

You help me through the night,

By me you stand.

You tell me all, my king,

I need to hear,

When silence starts to ring,

When dawn is near.

My fate, my faith, my hope,

My sacred light,

With anything I’ll cope,

Just hold me tight.

The moon is full above,

The night is long,

I dream of you, my love,

For you I long.

Live for the Love of it,

The Happy Amateur