Saturday, January 24, 2015

This N That

Maria's skin graft is taking on two ends.  Now if they will just meet in the middle we can begin complete recovery.  That's what we're aiming for anyway. This has just zapped all of us.  

Wednesday Maria went for an appointment for pain management and they would not see her because the police have lost her license.  No exceptions. (The state trooper was holding Zander and had the license after the wreck.  Maria and Zander left in an ambulance so the trooper took it to the local sheriff's office.) After Hubby and she returned home Hubby visited the police department and believe me when I say he had everyone looking for that license.  I'll just say no one was smiling. Now the department has a new policy about how they handle licenses.

Thank you for all your continued prayers and well wishes.
Before the cold front I topped off and cleaned a little on the water gardens.  That is always fun but it was just almost too cold to play in the water.  They are now ready for the next freeze.
My skunk skull I saved has almost been cleaned by the weather.  Not sure what it will be used for but I'll find a creative purpose.  The skunk was ambitious, like Caesar, but the good smell is not interred with his bones. It simply disappeared. Thank goodness.
Saw my crystals shining and just had to share.
Next time you see these they may all be covered with ice.

Friday, January 23, 2015

An Ode To Dr Pepper

dVerse~Poets Pub is having a party.  All forms welcome, build 'em up, break 'em down.

Ode To Dr Pepper

It wouldn't be a day
without
your sweetness
in my mouth
you fill me
i rejoice
the tickle
on my tongue
tells me
i am alive
i bow
at your aluminum
or plastic
alter
days of glass
are gone
but you're always
the one
who cools my brow
and makes me
come alive
on a sultry day
no other pop will do
i am insanely
devoted
to
you

Breaking The Ode

Dr Pepper
you are my downfall
keeping me fat
i can't live with out you
no solution to that
you rot my teeth
you break my bank
caffeine addition
i have you to thank

After reading a few, I think I blew the directions.  Oh, well,  If this were opposite day it would've worked.

How The Words Come

At Poetry Jam they asked to write about writing, compare it to something or tell how the writing comes to you.

When I Write

Sometimes the words come in pieces
Like broken candy canes
Take them apart
And put them together again

This morning I thought
I've an orange toaster and a purple chair
The toaster's in the kitchen
Cause I like it there.

There are moments
That a true poem is born
When I have no hand
In how the piece is formed

These are the good ones
I don't let get away
I'm always surprised
When I read what they say

Dog Tired

from yesterday.
Kinda like The Little Red Hen except I had no seeds.
No one was helping me.
Lizzy rested in a freshly raked pile of leafs.
Ki-Anne wondered what was so great about what I was gathering.
Lil just wanted me to throw a stick.
See that TINY stick by her fore paws? 
I guess this was a dog day afternoon.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Tonight I Mourned

I have been unable to do that fully for years.

Mother died in '99 and her burial arrangements were for Dad.  What he wanted, what he needed to feel like he had given her the best.  Dad was in mid Alzheimer's and some days he would forget Mom had died. Then he would remember and oh, how he would grieve all over again as if it had recently happened. We were relieved when he forgot Mom and he settled into a time of service to his country, before Mom and before us.

Mom knew he had Alzheimer's but would not tell because you don't "air your dirty laundry".  You take care of your own.  Before she passed she asked me to "take care of every thing" but mostly she meant Dad. That was all she would say giving us no hint of how different Dad was.

And so we did.  My two sisters and I gave Dad the best care we could give.  Keeping him in his and Mom's home until we couldn't.

When Dad died we knew what he wanted and that was the service we gave.  His friend read Dad's favorite Psalm, the Twenty-Third. His neighbors, mother and daughter, sang his favorite song, Amazing Grace. I gave the Eulogy at a graveside service written by his oldest grandson, Toni, and me. Dad would have liked it.  He was buried with military honors with a twenty-one gun salute.  The flag was presented to my oldest sister.  She turned and presented it to his oldest grandson.  It was as it should be.

I watched a show with a Marine Honors Burial.  When they removed the flag from the casket I broke. I bawled like I lost them tonight.  My heart had broken open and the tears flowed like a river in full flood. I could not stop.  I was alone.  Even if I wasn't I don't think I could put into words why I broke down during a television show.  It was time.

Mother did not know the gargantuan task I laid on myself with her simple words "Take care of  every thing".  Those few words left me no time nor room to mourn because I had to DO what was asked.  I judged myself harshly.  I would look around and say aloud, "Mom and Dad would not like this".  I was appalled that I could not perform to what I perceived as Mom and Dad's expectations.

I was measuring my accomplishments with a stick so big no one could have met my high standards.  I realized tonight Mom and Dad would not have wanted me to judge myself so harshly.  They wanted us to love the land and treat it kindly and in doing that to follow our dream, not theirs.

When my eyes were dry, I wrote and released myself from the super standards I had given.  I love this land.  We all do...and that was what Mom and Dad wanted.

Mom died in '99 and Dad joined her in '06.  I have finally mourned.  I think they would be proud of what we've done with their dream.