Wednesday, November 13, 2013
My ChildhoodI was born in Des Moines, Iowa. We left there when I was around two years old, as paternal Grandpa needed help running his farm. Grandpa was ill at the time, but lived until old age.
So we moved to the farm, as Grandparents were now living in town. I don't think Mama wanted to leave Des Moines, but she loved my Daddy.
Small house, no running water, water heater that you had to fill from the cistern, drinking water was hauled via bucket from a well. We were up-town, as we had a kept-clean, two-seater outhouse with toilet paper.
When they turned the dirt road into a gravelled road, we finally got a phone. Of course it was a party line.
Birthdays and Holidays were very simple. Birthdays were just us. Mama would make the meal the birthday person requested. The birthday person didn't have to do chores that day, and didn't have to share the mixer beaters with other siblings on that day. We spent Holidays with either Mama's family or Daddy's family. At Christmas, no gifts were exchanged with extended family.
Iowa has four seasons, unlike my current home in Houston, Texas. I loved summer, as Mama would drive us ten miles to a city with a nice library and to go grocery shopping. We only went every two weeks and, being a kid, was only allowed to borrow a limited number of books. I "ate" books like candy and would run out of books to read.
I started reading some of Mama's books and poetry books. I remember reading poetry books, out loud, while swinging in my swing in the black walnut tree.
We had an old graveyard next to our land. I often played there, by myself. Guess that's why I still love old graveyards.
I didn't know we were poor in money, as we were rich in love from parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles.
Mama love to sew and I remember her staying up late to finish matching dresses for her three girls for Easter. When my brother was born, he wore store-bought clothes. Guess Mama didn't like to make boy clothes.
I remember so many strange things. Walking barefoot in the summer and stepping in warm chicken poo; hauling water from the pump for drinking water; daydreaming during winter when priming the cistern pump and the hot water for priming turned cold; Mama taking us outside to look at the stars at night; Mama using an axe to kill a hen for dinner; and so much more.
Grandpa was around a lot and I remember him milking cows and aiming a teat at my mouth to get warm fresh milk. Daddy never did that.
When I was around five years old, my younger sister and Mama had to go to Iowa City for Nancy's heart operation. She was not quite three years old. Grandma was in Missouri visiting her family when Daddy and I stayed with Grandpa in town. Daddy went to the farm each day, and Grandpa was there when I got home from school.
Grandma saved little bits of food and served them again. Grandpa tossed out out that stuff and cooked man food -- meat and potatoes. It was fun being a little kid with Daddy and Grandpa. I was too young to understand that my sister could have died.
I could go on for hours about the time I spent on that farm. It was a wonderful childhood.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Miss SamMiss Sam was a recent Foster cat. I gave her love, food, and of course a clean litter box. I foster cats for Second Chance Pets in my area. Sam now has a fabulous home with two new humans. I will miss her; my job is to take care of cats until they get their forever home. This is Sam checking out her new home.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Bare feet as I don’t like to wear shoesAs a child, stepped into warm chicken poo.
Part of life on a farm.
Got used to warm chicken poo and learned to step around it.
But sometimes it would squish between my toes,
when I was not looking down.
I also loved muddy puddles or just mud.
Mud pies were fun to make.
The other night, stepped in cold cat barf.
Cats take turns getting sick, because they are cats.
I thought about it, and decided that warm chicken poo
is better than cold cat barf late at night.
Reason, I would expect warm chicken poo on the farm,
but don’t expect cold cat barf in my house.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
To RoyYou left me one late summer day
and fell down on the floor.
The EMS carted you away,
and I had to sign the papers,
to take you off of life support.
Did you leave your estate in such
as mess because you thought you
would never die?
You never came back to help me,
not even the day I yelled
“Roy, where are the wire nuts.”
My friend says her dead husband
comes back to help her.
You never came back.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Death is Stalking my Aunt
Mr. Death is after Aunt Mary,
she has the evil cancer.
I love my aunt,
and wish this wasn’t true.
Lady has lived a good long life,
but I don’t want it to be her time.
Mary is a feisty lady,
and hope it will be enough
to get her through.
She became part of the
widow’s club, a few years ago.
A group many of us
have to be part of when
the love of our life
is taken by Mr. Death.
Mary is a feisty lady
and will argue with
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Cooking for an Ex
What if you came over for dinner and I cooked your favorite dish?
You sat there grinning eating the food and drinking the wine.
You asked to take home a container of the food.
You wanted to toss me into bed, but I said no.
When you got sick the next day, did you think you should leave me alone?
Trapped with boogeyman on top of me.
He clanked his chains and then started pounding on me.
He changed his tune to creepy sounds.
He went back to chains ringing in my ears.
He then tried to play a song, but it was just pounding, pounding, pounding.
Trapped with boogeyman on top of me.
‘Twas just an MRI, but boogeyman was crashing and clanking in my dreams for days.
Trapped in my dreams with the boogeyman on top of me.
in the back yard at night.
Sometimes wind is blowing
and I can hear wind chimes in the backyard.
Is it really the wind or something else?
Normal creaking sounds in house,
is it the boogeyman,
in the back yard at night.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Post on Twitter Reminded Me of My PastA guy tweeted that his friend was passed out on his couch and still had his shoes on. Reminded me of the time I was with a friend and we went next door to a party. He passed out and I found some guys that were sober enough to carry him home to bed.
Next morning, the guy complained that I didn't take his lace-up work boots off. Dude, I could have left you on the porch next door.
A story from a past life, that I haven't thought about in years.