OLD MAN DOWN

On Wednesday morning, Husband rushed me to go to the store for necessities before he went on his truck-driving mission for that day.  We were leaving Food Lion and putting groceries in the car, leaving Husband to put away the cart.  I got in the passenger front seat and heard him calling my name urgently.  Looking back, I spied two legs flailing and none of the rest of Husband.  I got out and rushed to help him up and tend to his injuries along with two young men who saw it all.  They were very helpful and advised he ice everything, these competent helpers who were not born when I got my last paycheck.

He had lost his balance stepping off a curb and crashed to pavement on his 75-year-old knee, then his 75-year-old forehead.

He refused to see a doctor, and insisted on driving the truck that day, a consequence of his 75-year-old stubborn streak.

Husband and I without the damages of 50 + years of marriage.

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.  

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

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

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)

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

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!