Tabloid News

I don’t remember who told me about John Leax. (Marion, was it you?) I just know his name was one of two that appeared under “poetry” on the list I had compiled for my recent Barnes & Noble visit. It was a bit disappointing not to find anything from either poet in the meager B&N poetry section. Though I prefer to browse books in person (especially new authors), I resorted to picking out something at Amazon.

Tabloid News immediately caught my eye. It didn’t fit what I remembered being told about Leax’s work, but I couldn’t resist taking a chance on it. I’m so glad I did!

The idea for the book first came to Leax while standing in a grocery store checkout line. Looking at the tabloid headlines he wondered what the stories would be like if the headlines were actually true. So, over a period of several years he wrote these “true stories” based on the headlines he saw.

At first glance I thought the book would be nothing more than a joke. However, underneath the humor there is a depth and poignancy I didn’t expect to find. If I’ve aroused your curiosity in the least, go to Amazon and read about it. You might be pleasantly surprised.

A Matter of Survival?

Debby had an entry yesterday that spoke of the mental struggle which goes along with the physical battle when facing a life-threatening illness such as cancer. The article below is something I wrote for another site a number of years ago. It’s been on my mind a lot lately and seeing Debby’s post prompted me to share it again here.

A Matter of Survival?

My father died in June of 1970. It was just a month short of my mother’s 49th birthday and their 27th wedding anniversary. During the brief six months that Daddy battled cancer, I don’t think death was ever considered as a possible outcome. Therefore, nothing was done to get my father’s “affairs in order” or to prepare my mother for widowhood. She never envisioned life without a husband.

Mother and Daddy met in college and married in July of 1943. During the two years between graduation and marriage, Mother lived at home and taught school. As was the case with most women of her era, she never lived on her own. She went from the protection of her parents directly to the protection of her husband. While Daddy served overseas during WWII, Mother lived in the home of her mother-in-law, along with her sisters-in-law whose husbands were also deployed. She never learned to look out for herself.

I remember well the grief, confusion and loneliness that filled our home after my father’s death. I was eleven years old. Both of my older siblings had left the nest and my other brother had just completed his junior year in high school. Oddly enough, my paternal grandmother continued to live with us for several more years even though her daughters lived in homes on either side of us. Mother renewed her teaching certificate and went back to work.

My teenage years were actually quite happy. Mother and I were very close and, looking back on it, I realize now just how dependent she was on me. I helped her with everyday things like balancing the checkbook and general home maintenance. Her entire life revolved around me. She often made the statement that she only wanted to live long enough to see me on my own. It always irked me that she said this, but I never really took it seriously. I couldn’t imagine losing another parent so soon.

Mother’s cancer was diagnosed the summer after my junior year in high school. She was in and out of the hospital my entire senior year. By May the cancer had spread from her bones to her brain and she had reached the point of seldom being lucid. I was told that the night of my graduation she was aware enough to know what was happening. She died four days later… right on the schedule she set for herself.

I’ve always felt that things worked out the way they were meant to, as perverse as it might sound. It was much easier for me to set out on my own without Mother than it would have been for her to cope with the emptiness my graduation would bring.

I vowed to myself that I would never, ever be so dependent on someone that I couldn’t survive without them. Through the years I’ve learned that there is a delicate balance between independence and knowing when to lean on others.

My own Haiku

I knew after reading Quid’s Haiku this week that I wanted to try writing some of my own.
Here are my first efforts and what prompted them.

Each Spring I am reminded anew just how many variations there are on the color green. I see it in my daily walk to the mailbox, particularly on a bright, sunny day.

Vibrant shades of green
Brand new leaves against blue sky
The colors of Spring

These same daily walks are often a time when I feel very close to God. Perfect for praising, praying or just listening for Him.

Marking steps with prayer
God’s presence all around me
Speaking to my soul

I mentioned in a recent entry that my bird feeders were busy with Cardinals and Goldfinches. The past few days they’ve been joined by Indigo Buntings… one of my favorites!

Bold, red Cardinals
Buntings of electric blue
Bright yellow Finches

I’ll never forget the first time I discovered how noisy cows can be when they graze! It made me laugh to hear the steady ripping of the grass as they slowly worked their way across the pasture.

Cows attack the grass
Tearing apart the silence
Heads never look up

Top quality? Nah, but the important thing is that I had fun writing them and want to do more.

Monday entertainment

Quid posted an entry the other day filled with Haiku, her “Lightning Series”. She’s an amazing poet and it’s a beautiful example of her work.

Not to detract from her talent, I was reminded of a funny e-mail I received years ago which contained “dog haiku”. Of course that e-mail is long gone, but a quick Google search brought up plenty of samples of what I remembered. Although not all of them are true to form, here are a few for your Monday entertainment.

I love my master;
Thus I perfume myself with
This long-rotten squirrel.

Today I sniffed
Many dog butts - I celebrate
By kissing your face.

I sound the alarm!
Mailman - come to kill us all -
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

How do I love thee?
The ways are numberless as
My hairs on the rug.

I hate my choke chain -
Look, world, they strangle me! Ack
Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack!

You may call them fleas,
But they are far more - I call
Them a vocation.

My human is home!
I am so ecstatic I have
Made a puddle.

Dig under fence - why?
Because it's there. Because it's
There. Because it's there.


Here's a picture of Betty with our granddaughter yesterday.

Green Tea

Green tea is good for you! For awhile it was all the rage and I really tried to like it. It just didn’t happen for me. Give me a nice cup of black tea or the occasional oolong instead.

I like experimenting with different varieties of tea and have several places I order from. About a year ago I received an order from Stash which included a couple of bags of loose green tea I had not ordered. In correcting the error they allowed me to keep the tea at no cost. The bags sat in the back of a drawer until I recently came across them again and decided to see if my tastes had changed.

I don’t know if it was really a change in taste or just a more appealing blend, but I was pleasantly surprised. It’s called “Tea of a Thousand Charms” and is a blend of Huo Mountain Yellow Sprouting, Young Hyson Gunpowder, Mao Feng and Dragonwell. Not something I want every day, but I’ll certainly finish what I have. I haven’t tried the other bag which is “Gunpowder Green”.

Pictured here is my new Lotus Blossom teacup with its own infuser and lid.

Relax. Have a cup of tea.

Bird stuff

It’s a beautiful day! Temperature in the 70s, blue sky, everything blooming...perfect for being outside.

There has been quite a bit of activity on my birdfeeders lately. A few goldfinches are still hanging around, only now they are bright yellow with little black caps. Even when I don’t see any dove scrounging for dropped seeds, I can still hear them calling from the woods. My imagined boycott of the new feeders must be over, too, since the cardinals are once again plentiful. There’s been an odd looking fellow at one of my feeders – a brilliant red male, minus his tail feathers! He’s come to the feeder more than once, so I know he really exists. I was starting to doubt what I’d seen until he made a second appearance.

On a darker note, I had a rather disturbing experience while driving to Little Rock on Monday. I was traveling along a rural highway, admiring all the beautiful dogwood trees in the woods, when all of a sudden a huge hawk came diving across the highway. Wham!! It hit smack dab on the front grill of my car... and stayed there! I felt sure it died on impact, but I knew I needed to stop and see. Besides, I felt like every driver I met was gawking at the unusual "ornament" on the front of my car! At the next town I pulled into a parking lot and assessed the damage. I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say it took a considerable amount of effort to right the situation. It’s a good thing I’m not a particularly squeamish person! It just made me sad for the poor hawk.

Bittersweet emotions

Losing both of my parents at a tender age gave me a different perspective on extended family.

I am the baby of two babies. My closest sibling is more than five years older, my closest cousin more than seven. All the others range up to 25 years older. By the time I came along, most of the extended family events had ceased taking place. For that matter, once I was school age it was rare for my immediate family to gather very often. Family dynamics change. In some ways this was to my advantage. I might have missed out on lots of extended family fun as a kid (some of my cousins or siblings might argue how much of that was really fun), but I had the opportunity to get to know my aunts and uncles in a different way.

Of six siblings, only my father’s middle sister remains. We celebrated her 97th birthday this past week. She’s rather feeble and has trouble moving around, but her mind is still good enough to have enjoyable conversations. I visited my mother’s only sibling, a sister, yesterday. Always healthy in both mind and body, she was struck with cancer a year and a half ago and has struggled with that ever since.

For awhile I was too absorbed in my own life to visit them regularly. Thankfully, I've gotten beyond that. I've realized it's a connection I don’t want to be broken. When I visit we sometimes talk about the present, but mostly we laugh and tell stories about the past. We remember those who are gone. Each time I hug them goodbye a little part of me wants to cling and hold fast.

They are the last link to my mother and father.

*********************************************

In honor of National Poetry Month, I want to share this poem my grandmother wrote shortly after the death of her two year old son. It’s a repeat for those who use to read my 360 blog, but certainly worth posting again here.

Separation


I went up to your room to get some little thing--
And there it overtook me --all the grief.
I'd kept my courage up, been brave,
I'd tried so hard to keep submerged
And even smiling;
Now, in the midst of all these dear,
Reminding things,
That courage drained away -
It was pretense - this was reality.
Nothing in me was beautiful and brave.

I know not when it was He slipped into the room
And took my hand in His.
Perhaps He'd been there all the time,
And I had been too occupied with striving to be brave
To sense His nearness.

He said, "Let not your heart be troubled.
I am always here".

Slowly His peace filled all my anguished soul.
His was the courage,
His was the joy.
And they were mine for just the taking.
He filled my every need.
And there, O sweet surprise! O gift of love Divine!
He let me see His other hand!
And there you were, your hand held fast in His.
You, I, and He held close together by those pierced hands,
Enfolded, wrapped within that wondrous Love.

He smiled, "Had you fogotten
Nothing can pluck my own from out my grasp"?

Oh, may I ever keep you close
By keeping close to Him.

Palm Sunday

I started this puzzle several weeks ago with the goal of having it finished by today. Appropriately titled Palm Sunday, it’s the work of artist Ruane Manning. I’ve done other puzzles featuring his artwork including At the Watering Hole and one depicting Jesus as the Good Shepherd.

In honor of the day I’m posting the legend of the Donkey’s Cross along with a photo of the cross on Buster's back.

The Donkey's Cross

"Bring me the colt of a donkey," was
the Master's request.

A young donkey was brought to Jesus
to carry Him into Jerusalem.

A week later Jesus was ordered crucified.

The little donkey so loved the Lord that
he wanted to help Him carry the cross.

But alas, he was pushed away.

The sad little donkey waited to say
goodbye until nearly all had left.

As he turned to leave, the shadow of
the cross fell upon his back and shoulder.

And there it has remained, a tribute to
the loyalty and love of the humblest
of God's creatures.

author unknown

Gallon Nippers

Seen any gallon nippers lately?

Wait, maybe you know them by another name. How about mosquito hawk, jimmy spinner or gollywhopper? All are names for the crane fly, an insect that resembles a gigantic mosquito. A few weeks ago we saw one in our church craft room that captured everyone’s attention. It had picked up a dust bunny from the floor with some silver glitter mixed in and as a result looked quite interesting cruising around the room.

Like most folks, when surfing the internet I’m easily led from one link to another. While looking up gallon nippers I happened on this page of AR-bonics. Despite living in Arkansas the majority of my life, many of the words listed were “foreign” to me. There were a few, though, that I’ve used a number of times.

Getting back to crane flies... according to Wikipedia it is a misconception that they prey on adult mosquitoes. That’s too bad since the only reason I ever refrained from killing them was the thought they were keeping blood-suckers at bay. In the future they better watch out for my swatter!!

I'm a Winner!!!

I am so excited!

Debby recently posted an entry about a contest on her friend Scotty’s blog. Scotty posted a photo with instructions to guess what it was and write a little something about it. The photo fascinated me and I decided to take on the challenge.

What a thrill to find out this morning that I had won!! Next step is to see about claiming my prize… a photo taken by Bush Babe. If you’ve never taken a look at her work, you’re definitely missing out on something.

Thanks so much, Scotty, for sponsoring the contest and for choosing me as the winner. Thanks, too, to Bush Babe for providing the prize. Of course I must thank Debby as well for posting the entry about the contest or I might never have known about it. And Hal… if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even know Debby!

I’d better stop… this is beginning to sound like an Academy Award acceptance speech!