ACQUAINTANCE OF AMBROSIA

Clarissa, an acquaintance of Ambrosia, mother of Beulah and Drucilla, girls that Ambrosia think better suited for Clem than Trixie. Clarissa was invited to the wedding by Ambrosia, against Trixie and Clem's wishes. Ambrosia let them know she could do whatever she pleased.

UNCLE THOMAS & AUNT JULIA

Trixie's Aunt Julia & Uncle Thomas encourage Clem and Trixie but they also are terrified of Ambrosia.

TRIXIE'S PARENTS

Trixie's parents are happy for Trixie and Clem although sad for her to leave their house. Trixie's parents are fun-loving people and are worried that Ambrosia will dampen Trixie's spirits.

MOTHER OF THE GROOM

Ambrosia Tuttle, mother of the groom. She refused to have her photograph taken with her husband, Arch. Arch said damned if he cared. Ambrosia chose to wear her Sunday best outfit. She said she could find no better hat than this one that she has had for many years.

Dear Clem, from your mother

Dear Clem,

I can't help but cry when I think of my boy getting married. And getting married to that little floozie. I know you say you love her but, Clem, surely you could do better. There's those girls I see at church, they are so pretty and have so much hair, Trixie is so thin-haired, she'll soon be bald.

What kind of people name their child Trixie. Why couldn't they have named her something pretty, like Beulah or Drucilla, Trixie doesn't even sound like a real name.

I told your father he should have forbid you to keep company with a girl named Trixie, but your father isn't man enough to take a stand on anything. I hope you will be more of a man and put that Trixie in her place.

Clem, you can still change your mind, after all, there are other girls that would be glad to marry you.

I bet Trixie can't even cook. She probably thinks she's too good to empty the slop jar.

Your mother,
Ambrosia Tuttle

KITTY

Dear Diary,

Clem is being mean for the first time, he doesn't want me to take Kitty to live with us. I have had Kitty for 5 years and I love her. What will I do without Kitty, she comforts me and loves me no matter what. Clem may not love me as much as I love Kitty. I keep crying but Clem says Kitty makes him sick. I think he just doesn't love Kitty. I tell him that Kitty likes to go outside but that she sleeps with me at night. Clem says no cat is sleeping in his bed. Poor Kitty. Maybe he will let me make her a bed in the barn. I could sneak her in the house while he is gone. When he is in the barn he might learn to love Kitty. Oh, I am so sad to think of life without Kitty.

From Trixie

Dear Diary,

What have I done to myself, Ambrosia hates me. She is so grumpy and acted like she forgot my name, calling me Tootsie. Clem says it will be ok, I won't have to live with her. I would stomp my foot and say no if Clem wanted that. Now Arch seems nice but Ambrosia won't let him stay in the room with her. I bet he is glad for that.

I'm going to bed and pray that Ambrosia will be nice to me tomorrow.

From,
Trixie

DEAR DIARY, FROM TRIXIE

Dear Diary,

Just a few days and I'll be Clem's wife. Oh, it makes me afraid yet I am happy. Clem will be a good husband even if his mother is not pleasant. She is a fearsome woman. Clem says I will learn to love her. I may have to pretend to love her, she is so severe. My own mother laughs but I've never even seen Clem's mother smile. He says she might though.

My mother and sister have scrubbed our little house clean. The floors were a fright, I was glad they were there to clean them for me. They have also picked out some fresh paper for the walls. I hope Clem will be pleased with it all.

My mother is still stitching on my dress, nothing fancy but I want it to fit. It was her dress when she married my papa. Poor Mama, she keeps crying. I told her I would come to visit every week. She said she knows I won't.

Well, I need to fold my things and get them ready.

From,
Trixie (soon to be Clem's wife)

CATS

It's not that my mother hates my cats, she just doesn't like them. I have several cats so she has a lot of them to dislike. She will tell you that she doesn't dislike them she just doesn't want them to get close to her. But they like her. They want to bed close to her. There are four cats that come in the house, Sadie and Lydia are calico, though not related, Abby and Macy are gray tabby, both with unique markings, especially Abby. Abby is the smallest cat, Macy the largest. Sadie is aggravated she isn't an only cat. As I write this, Abby is in heat. Usually she is a quiet cat, meows gently and walks around without any fanfare. But now she is squalling and roaming all over the house. She is not allowed to go outside, for obvious reasons. Sadie is Macy's grandmother. None of the others are related. So far as we know, that is.

There are several outside cats, Sonny Brewer is a grey and white tomcat, gentle and wants to be a house cat but is too timid, all of the other outside cats are named Kitty. They all know their name. There are grey and white ones, black and white, and one long haired grey cat that resembles a Maine Coon. I wish I could tame it, such a beautiful cat.

Macy wants to sleep on Mama's pillow. She does not want Macy anywhere near her pillow or her bed, for that matter. Mama will go to bed and before too long I will hear her ringing her bell and I know Macy is on her pillow. Mama calls Macy a fox. She really is somewhat afraid of her, she is a big cat. After a few times of being shooed out of the bed Macy will find her another place to sleep. Abby also likes to sleep with Mama but she makes her place at her foot of the bed. Mama will wake me up and tell me the cat won't move so I move her. Before long Abby is back in her warm spot on Mama's bed. Occasionally Mama and Abby will sleep for several hours without Mama knowing she has a bed mate.

Lydia walks on Mama's bed but doesn't usually sleep with her, Lydia likes to sleep with me. But she does visit Mama during the night, often sniffing her face, Mama says, "Get this cat away from me!"

Sadie stays completely away from Mama. She will find herself a place to sleep upstairs or on really cold nights she will sleep with me. Sadie just wishes everybody would be quiet and stay out of her way.

As well as all the cats I have a rabbit who lives in a cage in the house. Herbie Miller eats gourmet rabbit food, organic greens and gets regular baths.

And then there's the sand crab, but that's another story...

Ambrosia & Arch Tuttle
And
Trixie’s Parents
Invite you to Attend
The Wedding of
Clem & Trixie
@
www.alicehadams.blogspot.com
&
Alice’s Facebook Page
January 23, 2008
3:00 pm CST

FLORIDA IN JULY

It's so cold tonight that I made reservations to go to Florida in July. I feel warmer already.

FEEDING MY MOTHER

My mother has an old esophagus. It doesn't work well so she has a feeding tube. But she is able to eat now and then even though food usually doesn't go down well.
Tonight I cooked pork chops, tenderized, dipped in egg and crackers, browned in the skillet, then baked in the oven, mashed potatoes, corn and peas. Mama ate a small amount and was able to keep some of it down. While I was cleaning up the dishes she said she wished she had a slice of bread to rake through the grease and dripping in the pork chop pan. So I gave it to her, she had the best time with it, cleaning the pan. She said it was the best thing she had to eat in a long time. I was afraid it would make her really sick but it hasn't.
I figure she might as well have what she wants, even if her esophagus is old.

STRIKING OF THE CLOCK

The house is quiet, everybody sleeping. The tv is off, the only noise is the cat purring and the rabbit nibbling. Then, amid the quiet, the clock strikes, 10 times, bong, bong...

I was transmitted back in time to the house in West View, staying with Essa Cova, my cousins, 70 years and more older than me. There were two mantle clocks in the house, one on the mantle in the side room and one on the hall tree upstairs. Every night Cova wound the one downstairs and Essa would wind the upstairs one when she went up to bed. I took turns sleeping with them and always loved watching them wind the clocks. After I was older I was allowed to help.

The two clocks were never on the exact same minute, which enabled us to hear each clock clearly. Each had it's own distinct sound, the upstairs clock was softer, but could still be heard downstairs. The house was always quiet at night, except for storms. It was hard to miss the striking of the clocks.

Cova slept downstairs in a tall bed with a high feather mattress. She used her small hands to fluff and smooth it every morning. The head board went almost to the ceiling and the foot board was about half as tall. Cova would let me climb on the foot board, straighten myself stiff and fall into the feather bed, where I would be consumed. I thought this was great fun. Talking with Cova at night was an adventure, she told me about far away places and famous people, how I should behave and treat others. She was the one who taught me about salvation.

Essa's feather bed, upstairs, was not as thick, nor was it as fluffed and smoothed. But it was so comforting. She told me stories, we talked about people we didn't like, and giggled for hours.

My clock is not one of theirs, but that's another story. My clock is a family piece, passed on to me by my mother. I like hearing it strike.

FROM JEANIE

These were my birthday gifts from Jeanie. I loved the paper and gift bag. The cookies are on a white fiesta plate that says, 'It really is all about you'.

AN ANSWER FOR NAN

Theodosia Roberts Hale was my great great grandmother. Her son was a photographer and I am so happy that a glass negative survived to allow me to have her picture. She had 3 children, if there were more there is not a record. There are many stories about these people, I have written many of them and continue to wring my mother out like a wash rag to try and make her remember what she heard as a child. She doesn't remember much but she has been able to show me where Theodosia's house sat. It is in close proximity to other family members and not far from my mother's house. Not many days go by that we don't take a ride by the spot, we say we are going to see Theodosia.
I think I am Theodosia and she thinks she is me. It makes for a lot of confusion. Once she took over my hands to write on her blog and she was sick, I got so confused, when I thought I was her, I had to go to my sickbed but when I thought I was myself, I went to see about her.
Her grave site has been lost, others buried on top of her and other of our relatives. My mother told the undertaker but they sold the grave sites anyway. But we know the general area and plan to pot up a marker.
I've lagged back on letting Theodosia write since I know she had many sad things happen to her and it crushes me to live through them.
She was 87 years old when she died. Much more is coming from the pen of Theodosia.

2009

Awake, just into 2009. Quiet. Everybody asleep but me. Except for the animals, Herbie eating, the nocturnal sand crab roaming, the cats, all 4 of them, beginning to find their place to sleep. I should do the same.

Mama stayed awake long enough to see the new year arrive in New York. Hubby didn't make it until 10.

Happy New Year, all.

LEAVING OUT

We gathered in and now they have all left out for home. Mama is napping in the book room, Hubby and I are watching tv. The washer and dryer are working in a frenzy. The dishwasher is waiting to be unloaded. The rabbit is eating, the cats all somewhere sleeping.

I thought I would never get ready for Christmas yet now it is over. I finally slept for a few hours this morning and came back to life. I fried potatoes that Hubby peeled. We drank lots of our favorite punch.

In the morning I'm taking the tree down and putting away everything Christmas. I might even do it tonight.

GATHERING IN

Susan and the girls are here tonight. I'm glad they are here. Now we just have to finish shopping and wrapping. It will soon be over. I've never been so unprepared for Christmas. But we'll have a good time anyway. At least, I hope.

ORDERING STUFF

Never before have I ordered so many things for Christmas. My shopping trips have all but come to a halt. Now I'm anxious that everything won't arrive on time. But, maybe.

I have no idea what we will eat, chili, spaghetti, omelets. We'll drink lots of coke and 7UP. Peppermint ice cream.

Most of all we will have fun.

PUTTING MY MOTHER TO BED

I've just put my mother to bed. We stayed up late, me wrapping a few packages, her going through cards that she couldn't see. We talked a lot, both of us repeating ourselves, she can't hear and neither can I. Laughing at ourselves is our way of coping. She worries about the gifts she is giving her friends, I took her shopping, I assure her everything she has will be fine. She has chosen things that she thinks they will like, no just throwing things in a bag. I mailed two packages for her yesterday, she was grateful they were on their way. It stresses her that I do so many things for her, tells me I am killing myself, that I shouldn't have to spend my time doing for her. I tell her it is fine, there is nothing I can't do. It is the truth. Well, on the other hand, there are those teeth.

I was ready for bed before her, usually she goes first, she has been feeling bad and has been going to bed by 8 or so. I told her I thought it was time we called it a night. I helped her get her things in the baskets by her chair, her emery boards, tweezers, cough drops, glasses, kleenex, her pen, cards, her bag of snacks from Jane, her hat. She thinks she should go to the bathroom. She has trouble getting out of the chair, telling me not to pull on her, that I will hurt my back. She is so very feeble, I tell her to stand up a bit straighter and get closer to the walker, we head across the floor. I help her along, steering her clear of obstacles and we get to the bathroom. She catches the leg of the walker on the door facing but we get turned and head for the toilet. She always gets ready before I get ready, wants to sit too soon, as she does in her chair or the car, but I get her settled. The feel of her skin and the smell of her shock me, as they always do. Dry, thin skin, so easily bruised, ginger lotion I keep on her elbows and arms. I have her change her clothes, she tells me she is fine, but I change her anyway. I can't stand the thought of her being uncomfortable.

We go to the bedroom which is really the book room. She can barely make it, she can't see where she is going, I get in front of her and pull her along. It takes a few tries to get settled in the bed but she gets herself fixed and I straighten her covers. She wants her water, trash can, and kleenex. Ready for sleep now. I don't put her rails up anymore, I know she can't get out of bed by herself.

I sleep in the room with her, we are surrounded by books. Stanley and Livingstone are within reach, I can go to the source of the Nile, read about tents, long for Jerusalem, dream of going to Petra, fight the Civil War, walk side by side with Vine. Books are my comfort, my Hindman family linger on the shelves, finally I can rest.

But just as I turn off the light, after reading, I hear her. She is fitful, talking in her sleep, although I can't catch what she is saying. She coughs, groans, sounds congested, I worry I will go to sleep and not hear her if she calls me, although I always hear her.

Now I am wide awake, it's after 1 am, December 19. How have I come to this point in my life. What do I do now.

WILL I EVER BE READY?

I'm sure I'll forget all the stress I have just thinking about Christmas. But tonight I can't see it happening. I would like for it to all come together and be over. Whatever will I feed everybody! I have lots of things to write about tonight but my mind won't work. The house is quiet except for the computer keys. Even the rabbit is sleeping.

Outside, the snow is still on the ground, the air cold. It was so pretty last night as it fell. I kept going to the back door to watch. The cats weren't so thrilled though. Sadie, Lydia and Abby are all sleeping in the house. No doubt the outside cats are in the basement, curled up and warm.

62

I'm 62 years old today. How did this happen?

SPARKLES

I refuse to be totally rattled with Christmas preparations. I think I have figured out a way to put up the tree and just have to move one piece of furniture. The rabbit will stay by the tree. I'm sure he will be thrilled.
I would like to have the lights around the porch but that is being way too optimistic. A small tree in the book room window will have to do. I'm slowly turning the hall into a studio. I like to go there late at night, my stresses seem to melt away, but just for a while.
I'm anxious to get out my favorite Christmas things, mostly old, a lot of them handmade by the girls.
I like sparkly things, I didn't always, but now sparklies are my favorite. Especially at Christmas.

FEEDING TUBE

My mother has a feeding tube and depends on it for her nutrition. She isn't pleased to have it and rolls her eyes when she sees me coming toward her with her feeding. The comment is always the same, I bet you are thrilled to have to do this. I assure her it is fine, I don't mind. And I don't. She has been having some pain , which we are addressing, but it aggravates her. Tonight she said she was going to pull it out, I told her she would be back in the hospital, she said she wouldn't go.

Then she said, "I'm getting fed up with this feeding tube."

I'm still laughing.

JANE

Jane wins a give away. So, Jane, watch your mailbox.

Jane, the original Cosmic Possum, sent me a guardian possun just when I needed it most. Around 10 pm I would often see him, bravely eating cat food at the back door, looking up at me when I turned on the light. The cats just eat with him. I have well fed cats and a well fed possum.

300th POST

This is my 300th post. If I had any readers I would have a give away.

LOOKING BRIGHTER

Things look brighter to me this morning. I've calmed considerably. I have three hours to write and read. I can hide away upstairs, not answer the phone or listen to any noise.

OUT OF SORTS

It's one of those being at loose ends nights. My brain is addled, my body is bruised. I would love to take an ambien and go to sleep but it would make me sleep too soundly. To make matters worse, there are no cokes in the house.

WHAT SHE EATS

My mother has been released from physical therapy, even though she can't get up by herself. That's not to say she hasn't made progress. We have the option of going for therapy but I can't get her out of the house without help. She will continue to do her exercises here at home.
Even with her collapsed esophagus, I fed her hummus and Triscuits with rosemary and olive oil. It made her sick but she said it was well worth it.
The morning dreariness has given way to sunshine causing the leaves to glow, the glow before the cold.

A NEW ADDITION

There is a new addition to my porch this morning:
*1 mouse, dead

THE THINGS ON MY FRONT PORCH

I'm sitting on my front porch. I have the laptop, a coke, and 8 mini Snickers. I'm laughing at all the things on the porch.
These are the things I see:
*A wooden porch swing hanging by chains and springs, bounces nicely
*4 pillows, ragged
*long wire rabbit cage, empty
*short rabbit cage with purple bottom, also empty
*1 large white goose, not real
*exercise bicycle, unused
*1 pumpkin
*1 hummingbird feeder, empty
*1 flower pot, empty
*1 metal plant stand
*wind chimes
*1 rake
*1 toddler bicycle, on its side
*1 red cat dish
*1 discarded Tupperware bowl used to feed cats
*1 wooden glider, bought for $10 at St. Vincent de Paul
*1 green glider cushion, stained
*1 McDonald's french fry bag, empty
*1 chicken nugget box, empty
*1 half-full Mountain Dew bottle
*1 McDonald's Happy Meal sack, crumpled
*1 plastic glass
*1 lounge chair with pad
*1 wooden school desk
*1 deer skull, broken, scattered, stolen from the back porch of the Methodist parsonage
*4 bricks, broken
*2 rocks
*4 floor mats, various sizes
*1 rug, folded
*1 children's swing, handmade
*8 cats, on and around the porch
*leaves
*Snickers wrappers
*empty coke bottle

TUESDAY

My day began with Mama working herself out of the bed, between the rail and the foot board. There she was, on the floor. She doesn't seem any worse for wear.
The physical therapist came today and was very helpful with showing me how to get Mama up and down without pulling her arms out of the sockets. That could be important.
Susan and the girls are coming tomorrow, we are anxious to see them. Olivia will be in school and we will miss her.
Leah called last night to tell us she has lost her first tooth. Susan said it was the last time she could say that her child had lost her first tooth.
We finally got some rain today. The wind blew just enough to blow leaves off the trees and let them fall softly to the ground where they will protect the herbs all winter. I had to let the herbs and flowers go to seed but that may be good for them when they wake up in the spring. A mum has bloomed in the round bed in the middle of the driveway, I don't remember planting it there. Mingled with the mum is a miniature, white rose bush, they look lovely together.

I JUST THOUGHT I KNEW

I have come to realize that I just thought I knew what it means to be tired. I know now that I've never been really tired before. Every little nerve in my head hurts and my back is on borrowed time. But I'm happy to report that Mama had all of her feedings today, all of her medicine, got a bath, had the PICC flushed, walked twice, listened to music, talked on the phone, had a few little forbidden snacks and now is in bed and may be asleep. I hate to wake her up to see if she is sleeping.
Clem & Trixie got left out again today. Tomorrow for sure, Clem & Trixie, I haven't forgotten you.

WINDING THE CLOCK

We've made it through Saturday. Nothing terrible has happened, Mama is fed, medicated, and in bed. Not sleeping, we're talking. She's asking me questions, I'm saying yes, no, I don't know, I have no idea. She rephrases and I still have no idea.
I've learned how to flush the PICC line and how to dispose of needles. I haven't disposed of any but I know how it is done.
My legs feel like I am dragging around tires tied to my ankles, my shoulders are bent, my back is, well let's just say I know where it hurts.
I've neglected Clem & Trixie for a few days. On Sunday they will have my attention. Clem is learning new words, he loves words. Trixie is managing to keep out of the sewing room. Ambrosia is having trouble with her leg. Trixie's mother is cutting quilt pieces. Trixie is looking the other way. Clem is looking at Trixie.
I haven't seen the guardian possum for two nights but I'm sure he has been at the back door for his late night supper of cat food or left-over pork chops.
The clock is striking midnight, about 5 minutes late. I love to hear it strike. When I was a little girl visiting Essa Cova I listened to their clocks, one upstairs, one downstairs. They were never exactly on the same time. Before we went to bed the clocks were wound. Cova wound the downstairs clock and Essa the one upstairs. I usually helped wind the clocks. I'll wind my clock before I go to sleep and move the hand up 5 minutes or so. I hope I hear it strike every hour.
I think Mama has gone to sleep, she has stopped talking to me and is breathing evenly. She won't sleep for long, soon will be up to the bathroom. She will tell me how sorry she is to wake me and how she hates for me to do things for her. I don't know how to reassure her that it is okay. Maybe she knows.

...and it was midnight after the first day

My mother and I had an uneventful trip home from the hospital, I drove and she slept. I couldn't get her up the steps to the porch without help from our neighbor across the street. She went straight to the bed and promptly went back to sleep and slept all afternoon. I kept checking on her, feeling secure the rails that I thought were high enough would keep her in the bed should she wake. I stuck my head in the door to find her in the floor, the heater turned over. I called John Wayne and he got her up and on the potty chair. She said she wasn't hurt and I think she's okay. She wanted to go back to bed. But first she had to have her feeding. The only problem was me leaving the water in the kitchen, Mama had to hold the tube while I went to get the container of water. Back to sleep for Mama. Around 9 she woke up again, came to the living room and rubbed my feet. Time for another feeding and Tylenol. This went fine until I had to go get more water. I had Mama hold the tube. When I got back with the water she was holding the tube but it had come loose and was the feeding was draining out. Thankfully I had covered her with a waterproof pad. We did not do well in the bathroom so it is the potty chair for now. I had to wake JW to get her out of the bathroom.
Now we are abed, me in the reading bed, her in the hospital bed. We are both awake, talking about this and that. She is cold and covered up head and ear. I'm hot and have the fan blowing in my face.
The book room is our sleeping place, we are surrounded by books, words, thoughts, recollections, poems, signatures, green wallpaper with little pink flowers, book shelves all around. When I was picking out wallpaper for the house I asked her if she liked this green paper for the book room. She said it didn't make any difference to her. I told her she better choose one she liked because it might be on the walls of the room where she would die. And so it shall be.
It's after midnight and the beginning of the second day. My mother and I have come full circle. She is my child.
Without JW I could not do this nor anything that has come before. He is my strength, my enabler, the hand that is always there to catch me.

GETTING READY

Mama will be coming home from the hospital tomorrow so I'm getting ready. The hospital bed will be here anytime and, surprisingly, I have a place for it to sit. Right now the book room only has three pieces of furniture, a desk, lateral file, and the reading bed. That will soon change but for now I look in there with amazement. Maybe it would be nice to live in a house with very little furniture and no stuff. I do like my stuff though.

HOSPITAL ROOMS

I've spent a lot of nights in hospital rooms since August 14. That is the day my mother entered the hospital. Since that day she has had a feeding tube inserted and had her brain tumor removed. She also was given too much dilantin which nearly killed her. We can see a lot of improvement although she still has a lot of recovering ahead of her.
My reading has suffered since I have trouble concentrating. I'm sure I will make it up later. I have managed to do some writing which has been my therapy.
Jeanie reminded me today that it feels like winter and it is getting dark all to early. I dread having to wear coats and shoes.

HINDMAN

Last week was the writer's workshop in Hindman. It was as good a week as I expected, even better. The mountains protected me, the rain comforted and the writers encouraged. I listened, talked, read, wrote, laughed, cried, ate, walked, rocked, slept, dreamed, sang (quietly), learned. Most importantly, I spent time with some of my favorite people in the world. I'm missing them.

SUSAN & LIAT

EIGHT TRUTHS & ONE LIE

CHANGING PLACES

When I was a little girl my mother always made me a warm bed and tucked me in when I was sick. She didn't wander far from where I was resting. Good things to eat would appear on the tv tray beside me, kool-aid, peas, lemon ice box pie. Books were read to me, even as I grew older. My every want was gratified. In many ways she is still doing these very same things. She cooks me food, rubs my eyelids and tickles my feet. But things are changing. Today I made her a warm bed. Elizabeth helped her with her pajamas, buttoning and straightening. She helped her cover up, making sure her shoulders were tucked in. Mama is sleeping now. I'm just around the corner. I've made lemon jello in the case she might be able to eat some. Maybe later, I'll rub her eyelids.

POPSICLE TONGUES

KITTIES

Cats just naturally congregate to our house. I'm sure the bowls of Meow Mix help them know where to come. This gray cat had kittens here last year and two of them are still here. Now she has three more. She has just brought them out from under the house. The mama cat has always been very afraid but now she has calmed a lot. I'm sure she knows that she is save and will be fed. Elizabeth was able to pet her today. Her kittens are so cute. I like the one with the black nose.

TWINS

These baby birds each have their own window on the world.

YUMMY WORMS

This tree in our front yard is the home for baby birds every spring. The limb broke in a storm but we leave it as it is becuase we like it so much. So do the birds. This mother bird works in a frenzy all day feeding her babies.

DAISIES

Created for Write Place Write Time under the direction of Teresa McFayden

WHAT TO READ NEXT

With a houseful of books, I have nothing to read. The last book I read - SKELETONS at the FEAST by Chris Bohjalian. It is one of those hard to follow books. It has seeped itself into my head. I'm aching for a sequel set in Israel.

RABBIT FUR

Every night I get the rabbit out of his cage and he sits in my lap. We visit and I give him a good backrub . He clicks his teeth and is so happy. Tonight he seemed to be shedding a lot so I decided to brush him. And I did, at which time fur took flight. The more I tried to get it in the trash can the more it flew through the air. It was up my nose, all over the chair, floating through the air, stuck on the table and love seat, stuck to my hands and arms, covering my clothes. I have a hand held vacuum, the more I vacuumed the more it spread. I found a lint roller and captured some of it, then got it all over myself again when I had to tear off the sticky part of the lint roller. I did that several times. I put the rabbit back in the cage where he shook and scratched, releasing all the fur that I had dislodged with the brush. It is still furry here and there. The next brushing will take place outside!

DIGGING IN THE DIRT

I've been digging in the dirt. I've planted more petunias than anything else, pink, purple, white, yellow, more pink. The rabbit loves them so he should haveey petunias all summer. They are easy to keep blooming and always look pretty.
I love herbs. Most of the old ones came up and are growing. Today I planted two varieties of sweet basil. Nothing smells so wonderful as basil.
Digging in the dirt is my therapy. Dirt doesn't tall back, well, not exactly. Most things I plant tend to grow. They do like water, lots of water.
I don't like weeds. They like me though.

JOHN WELLINGTON HALE

John Hale died 83 years ago today. He was my great grandfather. I wish I could have known him. He was a photographer, jeweler, and a builder and installer of light plants. I have been told many times that he was a man far ahead of his time. I can only wonder what he would have made of the computer, no doubt he would have been wild about them. He loved his children and he was a good man.

BIRD BLOSSOMS

Tiny specks of birdseed
have found
their way
into the cracks
of our picnic table
where the lawn mower
stirred up
the dust that has settled
around the seed
to form a mixture
that even a drenching rain
failed to wash away
serving only
as the most important
ingredient
to form rows of blades
of greenery
growing toward the sun
I wonder
if they will bloom
boasting blossoms
the shape of birds

by Me

THE TRAIL OF MY MOTHER

Traipsing around with my mother is about like following Hansel and Gretel. I could never lose her, the trail she leaves always gives her away. This morning she had a doctor's appointment. Neither of us had eaten breakfast so I got biscuits, gravy for me, butter for her, and we ate in the car. When we got to the doctor's office Mama was sporting crumbs on her blouse and pants. Crumbs and pieces of napkins were under her when she got out of the car. Her mail was scattered on the seat and the floor was strewn with things from her purse.
She was her usual impatient self waiting to see the doctor. Our wait wasn't long but she said she was leaving if they didn't call her next. After her eyes were checked she had to wait for them to dilate. While we waited she rubbed my hand and I went sound asleep. The doctor told her she didn't seem to have any new problems.
I was so sleepy that we found a shady spot beside Pier 1 and we both took a nap. We decided to go to O'Charley's for lunch, mashed potatoes for her, potato skins for me.
On the way home we stopped at the Dollar Store. We got a few things and started home. I told her she needed to gather up her things from the seat and floor. She found papers, kleenex, coins, a nail file, peppermint candy, red hots, a rain hat (sunshine outside), and other odds and ends. While she was stuffing the rain hat in the side pocket of her purse, she pulled out a fork. She couldn't imagine where it came from. I finally figured out that it came from O'Charley's. She was just beside herself, said she was so embarassed. I told her nobody knew it but the two of us. She wanted to know if I would take it back the next time I was in Owensboro. I assured her that I would.
Mama was tired when we got home, we got her things in the house, and she took to the couch. She is probably still asleep.

TWO OF MY FAVORITE POEMS

FELIX CULPA

Too wet to plow, we climbed
the ridge where Jack-in-the-pulpit
and Fire pinks fringed woods' edge.

Spent of love, he lay crucified
across my Garden Path quilt, hat low
on his brow to shade the sun.

Stretched beside him, I thought his feet
the prettiest I ever saw on a man. Upright,
they framed the wet bottomland below.

Blue veins traced a mystery map
to his toes. I wiped them with the long towel
of my hair, woke him to adoration.

A cast of hawks rose on a draft
towing spring in their talons,
snaring us in a greening spiral.

I think of those elegant feet,
boot-shod, mud-logged, entrenched
below shell-plowed, fallow fields.

Summer fades, no word comes, I soon
harvest what he sowed before following war.
Tiny feet beat sad tattoos under my heart.

Preacher calls me Magdalene. I refute
him, knowing her wiser in her choosing,
blessed by loving, not damned.

-Jane Hicks
Jane read this poem to me at Hindman. I asked her to read it several times throughout the week. Even now, I find something new in it every time I read it. The poem is in her book, BLOOD AND BONE REMEMBER
-
AT REID HARTLEY'S JUNKYARD

To enter we find the gap
between barbed wire and briars,
pass the German Shepherd chained
to an axle, cross the ditch
of oil black as a tar pit,
my aunt compelled to come here
on a Sunday after church,
asking me when her husband
refused to search this island
reefed with past catastrophes.
We make our way to the heart
of the junkyard, cling of rust
and beggarlice on our clothes,
bumpers hot as a skillet
as we squeeze between car husks
to find in this forever
stilled traffic one Ford pickup,
tires stripped, radio yanked out,
driver's door open. My aunt
gets in, stares through glass her son
looked through the last time he knew
the world, as though believing
like others who come here she
might see something to carry
from this wreckage, as I will
when I look past my aunt's ruined
Sunday dress, torn stockings, find
her right foot pressed to the brake.

-Ron Rash
This poem is taken from Ron's book, RAISING THE DEAD. I first read it late one night at Hindman. I haven't recovered.

POEMS

I love poems. I don't know that I could choose a favorite one. There are so many that are such a part of my life.


When I was little I had poems read to me every night. I memorized them when I was in school. In the 5th grade we had to memorize SHE DWELT AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS. One line in the poem read, When Lucy ceased to be. One of my classmates took the floor to take her turn reciting the poem and the said, When Cucy leased to be. Everybody just fell over laughing. The classmate cried and went home. I still think it's funny.

I've cried over many a poem. I loved every tear.

When You Are Old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
-- William Butler Yeats

HEADER

Much appreciation is offered for the use of the blog header from www.countingyourblessings.com. It is a beautiful blog. I visit it and find myself relaxing. Thanks and more thanks.

BLUE

In The Coal Tattoo, Silas House writes that Anneth was pinned to the mattress with sadness. Tonight I understand that so well. As I write this it is almost midnight. If not for Olivia coughing I would be unable to move. It's a good thing that she is keeping me up. I can remember coughing like this when I was her age, I can always remember coughing. I'm coughing tonight. When I was little I would cough all night, nothing seemed to help. I would be exhausted in the morning but my mother would send me to school, where I would cough all day. She meant well, she thought (and still thinks), that nobody should miss a day of school or work. I learned early on that she was wrong. Life goes on.
The cats are settled, the rabbit is snuggled in his box, Olivia seems to be sleeping, Hubby is fast asleep, just me awake. Looking out the window, I can't see a light on in any of the houses around us. The street light is on, after being out for several nights. I think I like it better dark.
By morning, my spirits will lift. I won't be so blue. At least, I will have to carry on as if the blues have left me or they were never with me at all. It will be my secret.

MELTED SNOW

The snow melted so fast that I have almost forgotten it was here. The snow was much more fun than the mud.

OLIVIA

VENTURING OUT

THE GIFT OF A QUILT

This quilt was given to me by my mother's friend who has moved to assisted living. It was made by her step-mother. It has some years on it. I know I shouldn't use it but it is the perfect quilt for wrapping up to read. My aunt tells me the pattern is Seven Sisters. I love all the little prints.

RAIN

The rain is making me sleepy. It's the perfect kind of rain, gentle, steady. Peaceful.