Chevy Impala

I was writing a haiku last night, the word "classic" was the prompt. I ended up writing something about my dad‘s old light blue Chevy Impala. 

This would’ve been in the early 1970s before my brother was born. It had the old bench seat seats. 

 So, this was before the advent of seatbelt laws, and whenever we went somewhere, I could just lie across the entire backseat. I loved just watching the journey from that perspective and watching the treetops go by and everything. It was like my little place back there. I loved it. 

 I’m so glad I grew up when I did. Endless hours outside every day of unstructured play. Imagination games. Climbing trees, riding bikes all over town. 

 And when I went to the library, nobody stuck their nose into whatever I chose to read. This was good because I outgrew the kids section pretty quickly. (As soon as I finished the Marguerite Henry books).

 Yeah. That Impala was a great car. Nice memory.

Driving

Last night 

 Driving home from the nursing home

 Where mom is 

 Small towns 

 Tidy cozy homes with one light on 

 One had beautiful Palladian windows 

The full moon 

 The dim yellow light from the windows

 The bare trees out by the edge of the yard 

 Made it look like a candle lit cathedral 

 I was listening to Duff McKagan 

Recorded live in London 

 He sang my tired heart back to its home. 

 He’s rather good at that 

 So just me 

 The quiet streets 

 The full moon 

 And Duff 

 The car was warm 

 Heated seats are wonderful, you know? 

 Hubby had dinner saved for me when I got home 

 The moon 

 The trees 

 Music 

 Family 

 Hey 

 Let’s try a little harder 

 Let’s be better to one another 

 No more attacks on social media 

 Let’s concentrate on the good stuff 

 Things like the moon 

 The trees 

 Music 

 Family and friends 

 Sound good?

Politicat

Politicat 

The cat arrives

As I enjoy my coffee 

Presents himself to me 

He must have immediate attention 

And accolades

Simply for existing 

Which, of course I give him 

Eventually 

As all cats do 

He sits on my lap 

Rearranging everything I am doing 

And having all of his preferences met 

Because HE IS IMPORTANT

He will then present me with his nether regions 

Sticking his arse in my face 

Glancing back at me

To be sure

That I am suitably impressed 

I should clearly be rejoicing 

At such a gift 

I find myself thinking 

Someone needs to elect my cat 

To go to Washington DC 

He’d fit in quite well 

Cemetery Walk

Birds splashing in a puddle 

Three red leaves on a tree, otherwise fully green

The train whistle in the distance 

Walk 

Breathe in 

Breathe out 

Purple Loosestrife by the river 

Clouds reflected in the water 

A couple out for a stroll 

Walk 

Breathe in 

Breathe out 

This man died in WWII

My favorite angel statue 

Space newly cleared for more graves 

Walk 

Breathe in 

Breathe out

Made In His Own Image?

Ask yourself, why so many people no longer believe "made in His own image."

OK. Here’s how you teach us it goes.

So, an all powerful Creator made a world. To borrow a phrase from the Vulcans this world had infinite diversity in infinite combinations. And then Creator sets it up so that only some of the creations are His? Out of all that endless possibility, there’s only a few keepers and the rest are toss aways.

And out of the myriad endless ways to experience Creation, you truly believe that God only wants you to use one way. And if you choose any other way, he’ll hurt you?

People are supposed to experience God… Through you! So yeah… Do you get it now?

The creative force of the universe is so much more than the small, weak, mean and polluted version you show. And that, oh  faithful ones is why so many do not believe. And it is why so many others who do believe go their own way. If they’re supposed to meet Jesus in you, it’s never going to happen. You’re killing Him all over again every day.

I am One Who Sees. And I saw you a long time ago.

The End Of Your Nose

You know what gets old? 

Holding space for people who couldn't find the end of their own nose with a map and a mirror. 

When you present someone with an evidence based proven evil thing, and all they can say is:

(1)  You aren't trying to say I'M like that, are you? 

(2) But look, all these OTHER PEOPLE are evil, too!

(3) More of (insert political party the person doesn't like) are evil than (insert political party the person does like). 

For crying out loud.  At any point, could we START WITH; 

(A)  Oh no!  Are the victims ok?  What is being done for them?  How can I help?  

I'm so over people.  I need to be a mountaintop hermit. 

 

Wildflowers and Life

Yesterday, I went for a ride, nowhere in particular.  It reminded me of being a kid, we used to go for a ride on the weekends frequently, because it was a free form of entertainment.  I absolutely loved it.  I miss those days, they were some of the best in my life. 

I stopped several times during my ride around yesterday, because I saw wildflowers by the side of the road.  I love wildflowers.  When I was a kid, I used to go visit my cousins in Hardwick with my Memere and Pepere.  Pep would pull over and Mem and I would go pick wildflowers in various spots on the way home.  It was so much fun because she knew the names of all the flowers!  I always brought my mom a bouquet. 

I loved being with Mem and Pep.  It seems I got the very best version of them, something I've come to understand didn't always happen for others.  But for me, they were the very best grandparents anyone could ask for, and I adored them.  I still miss them.  

These days, I don't pick the wildflowers, but I do take pictures of them, something I love doing. Wildflowers are exquisite.  They rarely have ideal circumstances, no one spends endless hours and money making everything "just so" for them.  Yet, they grow and bloom.  They are resilient and miraculous.   

As I drove around, I kept cringing.  Lot after lot being chopped down and cleared so someone can turn a quick profit and build another ugly box house.  Yipee.  Just what we need.  Can't we ever fix or repair anything, instead of just discarding and demanding new?  One of the most horrid things I can imagine is all of these amazing tree lined roads being all built up with housing.  Ugh.  Stop.  We ruin everything, don't we?  

We need trees.  We need wildflowers.  And we need to do what Mem and I did...stop and enjoy them together.  It has stayed with me for a lifetime.

1942

I have a 1942 Liberty Dime which is also sometimes referred to as a Mercury Dime as the image reminded people of the Roman god, Mercury.  Someone carefully placed a rim around it and made it into a pendant.  (The dime itself is intact and has not been defaced or harmed)

I love it, and I wear it frequently.

The dime is 83 years old.

These dimes were produced from 1916 to 1945.  

I find it fascinating to have this wonderful item.  How many people had this dime in their pocket?  Did they go into a store in their hometown and pick up something needed?  I wonder what you could buy for a dime in 1942?

World War II was going on in Europe and in the Pacific.  In Europe, people were being rounded up and deported to Concentration Camps and being murdered by the thousands every day.

Meanwhile, this dime, in someone's pocket, here in the States.  Maybe they got a loaf of bread, or a newspaper. And now, I'm wearing it on a chain, around my neck.  For some reason, I find that absolutely amazing.

I can't help but draw a parallel between 1942 and 2025 here.  Of course, here in the US now, we are in the position of 1940's Germany - we are certainly not the good guys this time around.  And we, the population are dealing with what German civilians dealt with all those years ago.  What to believe, what to do, what to think?

I like the quiet certainty, the history, the energy that so many people held this dime and used it, while living their everyday lives. 

We can't live in the past, but we do need to be clear on what to honor and what to leave behind.  Otherwise, what did they fight for?  What have we learned? 

Elephants Under The Rug

Did you know?

When you have too many elephants under the rug, it becomes rather an all consuming task. It will take so much of your energy to keep them under there.

You’ll become accustomed to doing it. However, you won’t realize how much life you’re missing, often until so many years later.

Elephant maintenance will take up so much of your energy. When difficult things happen, you won’t have any energy left to handle them. When someone tries to fool you, they’ll be able to take you in easily. All of your energy is going toward those elephants.

A better way of handling it is to take all the rugs outside. Put them over the porch railing. Come back inside and sweep the floor.

Then, you make tea for yourself and the elephants. Have lovely, in depth conversations with the elephants. Talk about everything. Be fearless, even when the subjects trigger you.

Have tea with the elephants on a regular basis, several times a week.

Over time you will notice something interesting. Some of the elephants, despite remaining large, will suddenly seem entirely less impressive and frightening to you. Others will change into bunnies. They will sit there having tea with you looking absolutely adorable. Some others may turn into sparrows and fly out the door when you go out to get groceries.

Soon, you will find that you have room in your life for something other than the elephants. 

You can do whatever you’d like with the rugs. They’re only decorative now. You have a lot more freedom in your life now that you’re not on elephant maintenance duty so much.

Neighborhood Walk

 Going for a walk while its rush hour is more challenging than I expected.  I'll be careful, getting hit by a car isn't on my list of things to do.

The sky has been greying all day, and it's deliciously cool out, despite it being almost mid-June.  I'm not a fan of summer.   As I walk along, yarrow and purple clover nod at me from the side of the road.  The Congregational Church looks beautiful, and peaceful as always.  It makes me smile when I look at it.  I was doing some genealogy work a few months back and went down a rabbit hole in Millbury and Sutton.  One of the delightful things I read about was the history of this church I've lived so close to for decades.

The fence bordering the river is old and rusty.  Behind it, I see remnants of what an older fence might be, with huge iron rings hammered deeply into huge boulders.  I wonder who put them there, what did the neighborhood look like that day?  It must have been hard work.

Climbing nightshade makes her way through the fence.  I pause to listen to the birds, trying to identify who is around, but the traffic is too loud.  Finally, during a brief lull I pick up on a Red Winged Blackbird, a Cardinal and a Song Sparrow.

Time to cross the street again to the pond.  I swear, it seems like some of these people speed up when they see a pedestrian crossing.

There are at least 20 geese at the pond.  I tell them I won't bother them.  Keeping my promise, I stay far enough away to not disturb their little gathering.  There are shadows on the water and a mist over the pond.  I take a few pictures of the pond and sneak one of the geese.

There's some fleabane by the path to the water.  Another Red Winged Blackbird and a Grey Catbird are the soloists just now.

I notice some raindrops on my glasses. I tell the geese goodbye and thank them for letting me enjoy the pond with them.  I walk toward the road, and all 20 heads turn to watch me.   I look both ways, all clear!   Moments later, a maniac driving super-fast in a pickup truck appears out of nowhere and almost kills me.

I get to the sidewalk and he's long gone, so my swearing falls on deaf ears.  The geese are all still staring.  "I'm OK guys, it's all good. I travel with protection" I tell them.  They finally return to the edge of the water.

I don't really mind the light rain as I make my way home.  The rosa multiflora down by the water smells so good, I stop and just inhale for a moment.  Somewhere nearby I can hear Grackles being loud, in their little travelling bird gang.  I'm sure they'll be at my backyard feeders before long.

One last crossing to get back to the house.  Two cars, once in each direction actually stop and let me cross.  I think I might faint from shock!  The buttercups by the front wall are a spot of sunshine in this day that is given to the peace of the clouds and rain. 

I take a moment on the bench out front before going in the house. I think of all the living and working that has happened in this neighborhood as I look at the now empty Steelcraft building across the street. I'm looking forward to finding my notebook and recording all the plants and birds I encountered today.

The next time, I decide I'll bring my binoculars, and my notebook, maybe even an umbrella.....Wait, hold on.  I only have two hands, and I'm getting carried away.

Time to go make dinner.

I take one last deep breath of the sweet, mossy scent of this beautiful day, and inside I go!

Be A Dandelion

 In this world

When things are dark 

And evil pretends to be holy

The dandelion shows the way

Grow stubbornly and persistently

Even when they try and stop you

Show up everywhere you choose to

Regardless of who thinks it's appropriate 

Be brightly joyful and celebrate life 

Despite the attempts to make you see only fear

Let the seeds of your one beautiful, singular life 

Spread near and far

Wherever the wind may take them 

Always remember 

In the end 

"Weed Killer" always loses

The dandelion is CREATION

CREATION is everywhere

BE A DANDELION 

 

Shiny

Everything is so shiny and sterile these days. 

Does that mean I can’t re-use cookie tins, jelly jars and coffee cans?

Wait…coffee cans?  Somehow I doubt used coffee pods are good for much.

I remember lots of people made nail holders by attaching Gerber baby food jars to a board. So many garages and sheds had collections of those.

Anyone else eat breakfast cereal out of those margarine bowls made to be reused?

We repurposed so many things. 

Feels like so much these days is designed for single use, then toss away.

I miss that simpler time.

Small Joys Beautiful Life

I’d rather not just grasp

For more and more 

On to the next thing 

After the smallest taste

Of the one we’d just been coveting 

Everything becomes

So cheap and hollow

Sell it or toss it

Like you did with Grandma’s dishes

Gathering dust on the shelf at Goodwill

Better to savor the moment

Save some things for later

Enjoy right here, right now

Instead of next thing

How about right here instead?

That’s what makes special memories 

The pie mom only msde for July 4th 

Grandma’s Thanksgiving turkey 

That cup of hot oolong you’re holding 

The quiet moment reading while the house sleeps 

That’s the good stuff 

And if we stop the cycle of covet, hoard, toss we might just notice it