Thursday, November 5, 2015

THE FALL OF 2015

It has been a wild time on Waverly Lane this year.  Long existing as a placid repository of peace and well-being, our little island of ordinary acts and Stepford propriety has been unduly pounded by ill fate and misfortune.  I suppose our time was due if you have a math mind.

One strapping healthy neighbor had five by-passes.  Another long time friend and neighbor suddenly developed irrevocable heart problems and died.  A lady who lived among us for years died at age 99.  And then the insidious finger of fate chose our family.




Chesapeake Bay woman was hit head on driving on a winding
wooded road




She looked like this leaving the hospital
She will be okay
Someday




Her flowering bushes still bloomed




The dogwood turned red




And Christmas is clearly on the way



The accident was not her fault, but guilty or not everyone suffers when this happens.  We all just know that next year will be kinder, at least that is our hope.  














Saturday, October 10, 2015

FLYING






Jacek Yerka, 2011



Leaving the Port of Care

I drift

On ripples new and dare

To lift

Above trees and ascend

 Stark fright

Alighting a gust of wind

Floating down the night.



A response to magpietales/blogspot.com

Thursday, September 3, 2015

FLOWERS




"Peonies", William Merritt Chase, 1897




Exotic flaming accent

Afloat the serene neutral sea,

Whisper in the ear of ages and seasons

The essence of femininity







Monday, August 3, 2015

DEPTH OF WATER



Raining down on Death's heated earth

 Mists of souls swirl up to rebirth.

Steamy scents on senses unbound

Releasing an altruism new found.

No hate survives,

No difference abides

In the final all inundating tide.



Husband's chum since forever lies terminally ill in a local nursing home.  They shared escapades that are folk lore in our family get togethers, Husband always capping the event with a funny story of their antics.  Sidney, a.k.a. "Prunes," telephoned husband every day to chew the fat.  Husband saw to it that Prunes got property for his home across the road on Waverly Lane.

After many years at their respective jobs, each retired and took small jobs driving for a seafood business in a neighboring county.  They mutually fussed over the trucks, keeping them in good working shape and made a little money to boot.

All his life, Husband was friends with black people, playing for a while in an all black band (minus one).  He and Prunes agreed to disagree on that and never discussed the matter. Being basically good, Prunes could never shake the animosity he felt for his fellow black human being.  These things get handed down, I believe, and we did not hold that weakness against him while at the same time being a little sorry for his attitude.

Now at his most helpless state, he still makes the occasional bad joke, but also over the years has befriended some of his natural enemies by bringing them gifts to buy their favor when being unloaded in his job as a driver.  He boasted about how well they treated him. I see progress and a desire for good will.  Amen.





Sidney "Prunes" in high school,
One of three remaining amigos:
Mahon (deceased)
Sidney
Victor
and Sam (Husband)


Monday, July 13, 2015

THE WAY BACK




I came so long

To that place

Before knowing I had to return.

I go to redeem memories

To face the dragons, the black annihilating holes

To be myself again,

Whatever that is

To forgive everyone

To be the pure child

And be done with it.



A response to Magpietales.com


Saturday, July 11, 2015

FORTY DAYS AND FORTY NIGHTS

When Noah built the ark, he was given some warning and time to complete the task.  Here in my garden, we rejoiced with every rainfall and planted and planted.  We had no idea the blessing would be overdone with unpleasant outcomes.  What's the old saying, "Be careful what you wish for, you might get it!"




My make-shift water gauge, the garden wheelbarrow
shows how much water has fallen lately!

The garden has done it's best with beautiful promise, but sad production.  The beautiful green tomatoes (23 plants) exploded and rotted on the vine...a few made it and they were good.  I continue to hope there are better days for them ahead.  

Meanwhile the natural weeds and grasses are proliferating and expressing their abundant good health, I almost hate to pull them.



Just weeds on steroids.

Flowers are doing well and we learn which ones should come back next year.



Zinnias are proven in my garden and lure goldfinches and butterflies.




Because of the continuous rain, mosquitoes prevent me from harvesting the green beans.





Green beans wait for no man.




There is our average mosquito on my shoulder!





A sturdy pair of wooden clogs made in the Netherlands is the best
footwear for when the dikes of Heaven give way!

Thursday, June 18, 2015

LIFE BEGINS AT EIGHTY

My ever young cousin celebrated his eightieth birthday on Sunday.  I'm going against his wishes by spreading the news.  It isn't a small accomplishment to round the bend of fragile mortality into the warm calm waters of your senior years.







 Carl Douglas Thomas talks to Mr. and Mrs. Charles Ingram, fellow
producers of local daffodils at one time.








Mr. Gene Goin and Mr. Lowery Hudgins helped him celebrate and enjoyed the day.






Daughter Cindy Wright manned the food stands.







Daughter Carla helped make the day special.






.

It was also flag day and flags were waving!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY C.D.

You're a very special guy!

Monday, April 13, 2015

THE LOST

Husband is an accomplished enigma of rational behavior.  Usually appearing an average 74-year-old shuffle along, he contains anecdotes that can only be described as absurd enough to stop a clock.



A very predictable Husband looks handsome and un-mysterious on  a Spring day


This morning while I sipped my first coffee, he challenged me:  "You'll never guess what I found in the basement this morning."  My mind went immediately to dead mice, errant snakes, and a category of huge, venomous spider.  "Three balls the cats batted through the old plumbing holes."

"Oh," I voiced unimpressed.

"Guess what else I found," he teased.

"What?" I answer mystified.

And here it comes, the tense still  moment before the perfectly unexpected answer, "My lower dentures!" without blinking an eye.  Bingo, I didn't see, hear, or smell that coming, I thought.



But with Husband, looks are deceiving!


It seems the dentures went missing several years ago and to Husband's chagrin, he had to purchase new ones.

In the past, I have located his glasses hanging from a tree limb, his perpetual runaway cell phone on the ground by a neighbor's lawn chair, and the cat litter he placed in the refrigerator because it looked like a milk carton.  But this was new heights even for him. Now he has a backup set of lowers if he chooses to use them.  Another deep mystery has been solved, except how the dentures got there in the first place.  That we may never know, but speculation is endless.

Friday, April 3, 2015

SUNUP



   NATURE

O Nature!  I do not aspire
To be the highest in thy choir, -
To be a meteor in thy sky,
Or comet that may range on high,
Only a zephyr that may blow
Among the reeds by the river low,
Give me thy most privy place
Where to run my airy race.



In some withdrawn, unpublic mead
Let me sigh upon a reed,
Or in the woods, with leafy din,
Whisper the still evening in.
Some still work give me to do, -
only - be it near to you!


For I'd rather be the child
And pupil, in the forest wild,
Than be the king of men elsewhere,
And most sovereign slave of care,
To have one moment of thy dawn,
Than share the city's year forlorn.



Henry David Thoreau
And this morning on Queen's Creek


Saturday, January 31, 2015

OTHER EYES

I never know, the way I go is right,
I need to have some other eyes
See with me, agree with me, 
Meet in a glance of mutual delight




Nellie Strigle and Carl Douglas, her nephew, play in a wagon



Nellie (16) holds her niece (me)



A single working girl at Langley Air Base in Hampton, Va




Just married to first husband Al Berger
 


Their first daughter, Linda Nell




Second Husband, but first boyfriend, Bill Braxton



Our sweet beautiful Nellie has Alzheimer's and will not be coming home from skilled care. Her love, Bill is crushed.  He e-mailed me that he loves and misses her so much.  His health has taken a dive and he requires a stint and age 99.  Nellie will be 90 in the spring if things go well.  She has had a long life filled with everything, some of it tragic.  Even so she could express warm love and friendship to everyone she met.  She knew this was coming and tried urgently to keep in touch with her nieces and nephews.  She deserves the best Heaven has to offer.  I know how much she loves her children, grandchildren and both Al and Bill.  They should never ever doubt that!  She has other eyes.