Mutterings and Whispers

Fear is that stealthy thing
That sneaks up
When you are going along, enjoying life
And suddenly pours ice cold water
Over your head.
Anxiety is it's best friend
Making you antsy,
And susceptible to flinching
At every little creak and tick
In an old house when you are alone.

Happiness is a bouncing puppy
That jumps up and licks your face
Until you laugh
And then hangs around and  wants to play.
Gratitude is the thing
That makes happiness a longtime
Companion,
A good dog,
Who keeps you company
In good times and bad.

Anticipation
Can be better than the actual event
You are looking forward to
That hopeful longing
That lets you imagine
How wonderful something will be.
Joy is the gift of the grateful heart,
When the long desired event
Comes to pass,
And you find it to be even
BETTER
Than you imagined.

Writing little bits that are floating around in my brain today.  Preparing for a trip, going to see friends and hoping for good weather while we're gone, so I have a house to come home to.
Of course they are predicting BAD storms for the night after we leave.  So I will be anxious about our house.
There are medical tests in the future for both Matt and I , and those make me anxious,too.
Trying not to worry, because God has never yet let us down.  We've come through safe and sound, and we still have our house after all these years here.  I know the house can be replaced, but the memories around those keepsakes cannot.   32 years of our history, more than that of our individual histories, all here in this house, kept alive by the sight of the things that remind us of people and times together.
So, I will take a deep breath, and trust.  I will have a good time on this trip, and not feel like I am tempting fate.  For this time with Matt and our friends is a gift, and it is just as much to be treasured as the things we already have memories around.

Safe travels to all of us, and may the storms stay far away from Moore, and other populated areas, where far too many live with extreme anxiety every time the weather threatens.

The humidity is awful around here today.  Found it hard going on my walk, and had to slow down.  It isn't that hot, and the wind is gusting pretty swiftly, but the air is heavy, and makes the heat feel a lot worse than it is, in spite of the wind.  Really nasty, almost like Alabama, only windier.

Looking at old home movies my brother had digitized for all of us.  Oh,. My. God.  My siblings were kids once!  I seem to always remember them as teenagers or adults.  (Well, the oldest WAS 16 when I was born. )  My oldest brother never seems to smile in the movies.  Weird.  He laughs and smiles a lot, I've seen him, but in those movies, he's mostly Mr. Serious.
My Mom was a knockout! Wow!  This was before I came along, but she was looking really good.  No wonder Pop was so happy.  And Pop, gee, he looks the same to me.  I know he got older and had wrinkles and stuff, but he was still strong and muscular, even into his late 60s.  I miss him SO much, and seeing these old movies reminds me of that.  At least I know he and Mom are together again.  I miss Mom, too.  She left in increments, though.  Pop just vanished one day, after an accident at work.  Never really got a chance to tell him how much I loved him, but I suspect he knew.

Wish he could see what I do now at work, how much people appreciate what I do.  It astounds me sometimes, but over and over I've been told that my attitude and my tenderheartedness have made our library a better place, and my coworkers and customers seem to really like me.  I believe in the importance of what I do, even though sometimes Circulation is drudge work, it IS important.  What we do enables people to find the materials they need when they need them.  What we do keeps their accounts functioning properly, and allows them a way to fix errors easily, because all they have to do is call.  We are helpful and reasonable.  We have policies in place to guide us, but we are well trained, and our judgement is trusted. If we waive a fine for a customer, it is because it was the best thing to do for us AND for the customer.  We are all about people being able to use their library!

I do hope we survive this election year.  I hope this country has enough sensible people to elect someone who isn't going to drive the whole republic into the ground.  Whole lot of muttering going on about this campaign season.  I've had more than enough of He Who Must Not Be Named already!  The chairperson of the DNC is getting on my  nerves, too.  She needs to go away.  Bad news.

On top of all the other things I have going on, I wrote another story that might, someday, be published online.  I hope so, I think it's a good little story.  Needs more editing,  but I have a friend who helps with that.

I am tired.  Time to stop.

When the hour is late
And my brain finally slows down
And lets go of the spate
Of thoughts that go round and round
Then, in the quiet
I can at last rest my head
Or at least try it
In my nice comfy bed.

Found Objects

This poem showed up while I was waiting all alone in the Storytime Room for our staff meeting to start today:
It's a library,
But it's a very noisy one today.
Full of quite contrary
Little children at play.

Then of course the train,
Has to add its mournful song
No need to explain
This place is never quiet for long.


This, from. The preface of the book The Science Of Kissing  by Sheryl Kirshenbaum:

"A kiss is one of the most significant exchanges two people can have, serving as an unspoken language to convey our deepest feelings when words simply will not do. From a symbol of love and desire to a perfunctory Greeting between family and friends, this act can have innumerable meanings and resonances."


This, after contemplating several annoying and unexplained things that have happened lately:

Haunted?
Perhaps we are.
Many odd little occurrences
Make life interesting
To say the least.

Observations and Musings

The man stands there, looking out at the world.
His face, isn't especially striking,
But there is something there
That draws your eye.
Perhaps the weariness
The sadness at all he's seen
One thing after the other over the years,
But also the gleam of hope
Because he's seen good things happen, too.


Pentecost again.
Reminding us that the Spirit is with us
Always
Strange that we need reminding
But that's the way we Christians tend to be
Forgetful of the important things
Some of us too full of ourselves,
Others too busy judging everyone else,
And some of us just plodding along doing the best
We can.
Good sermon today,
Telling us it isn't that WE need the words or the actions
To show others how God is,
But rather that we need to shut up
And let God speak through us,
Showing others by doing
The right thing,
The kind thing,
The difficult thing,
The thing requiring discomfort,
And love,
And forgiveness.
Even if that means
We have to forgive ourselves.



We have a new doorbell. It doesn't ring in the house, it rings our phones.  We can see who's there no matter WHERE we are, and we can take their picture.  It senses motion, too, so it can do that whether they ring the bell or not.  Kinda freaky, and it goes off sometimes when the neighbor's dog comes cruising by, or the feral cat from down the street...
We got the sensitivity adjusted, now it just sees people who come up to the house.  Except the UPS man runs too fast for it to catch him...


I think I may need a lingerie intervention. I bought two more Panache bras this week. I already have SEVERAL.  They are all different styles, though, only one or two types do I have more than one color of...
And in spite of the cost, my husband does NOT seem to mind...

The June bugs (who are always early, it's still MAY, for God's sake!)  are out there bopping into my window and buzzing on the sill, dive-bombing the  driveway light, and generally being a poorly guided nuisance.

 As the weather fronts battle it out in the atmosphere, my sinuses battle with whatever it is that they kick up and spread into the air.  The last few days have been just awful in terms of congestion, itchy eyes, and sinus headaches.  I am beginning to think Spring really sucks!

Trying to fight off "Con Brain."  Planning and packing lists running amok in my head!  I am sure I will take more clothes than I will wear,but at  least I'll be prepared for almost ANYTHING!!
Also, deciding how much of my over-the-counter medications to bring along is an interesting problem.  I don't take anything that is prescribed for me these days, but I do take aspirin, antihistamine, and Muscinex almost daily right now...

Whatever I did to deserve these hot flashes, I'm SORRY already!  Please make them STOP!!  I am getting tired of feeling like I'm about to sweat through my clothes for no apparent reason, and sometimes burning up like that makes me feel a bit dizzy, too.  It's so very distracting, AND I can't seem to go an entire night without waking up sweltering at least once.  I can 't do hormone replacement because of my blood pressure, so that remedy is out.  Think I'm gonna try sleeping in a tub of ice.

Things you hear in the library:  "Batman vs Superman?  A local kid with fancy hardware versus an alien with superpowers."


Perhaps it should trouble me that I talk back to a talking toy?  Whenever my "Thunderbird 2" that Matt bought me says "This is Thunderbird 2, mission complete, I'm on my way home."  I always answer "Thanks for the warning, Virgil."

It's cold outside, and cloudy, and threatening rain.  I have decided to be lazy and curl up with a cup of something and something to read.

Why do I always start yawning and feeling worn out when I have things I want to do?

Some Verse Before Sleeping (Or Trying To)

Oh, thou unrepentant muse
That only speaks when time
Runs short
How long must you abuse
This poor heart of mine?
When my head is muzzy
And my heart weary,
My perceptions fuzzy,
And my mind leary,
THIS is when you choose
To release your treasures
To light the fuse
Of creativity,
When it is FAR TOO LATE
At night for me
To be awake and trying
To stare at a screen
And punch correct keys.

Now the story line will tumble
And perhaps end up in a jumble
 Because I just can't take enough time
To get it all down and let it unwind
Still, it will haunt my dreams
And morph and edit itself
It seems
And I must hope and pray
That the gist of the thing will stay
And still be there tomorrow
When I finally can
Sit me down and try to write again.
But, knowing you as I do,
I doubt it will go so smoothly
For when time is not an issue

I can say quite truthfully,
Your willingness to cooperate IS.


Now I lay me down to sleep
 I pray the Lord my muse to keep
That it survive another night
To come again and help me get the story right.

If it should flee before I wake,
I pray the Lord that muse to shake
And get it to start up singing
That I may get my words a flinging.

That from my head and onto the page
A story may  come to age
That others may read and enjoy
The gift you allow me to employ.

So for awhile cares may be eased
And hearts may well feel pleased
May what I write see needs addressed
That all who read may in some way be blessed.



 And so, in the midst of something
I must stop, and honor physical needs
Even though a story is in the offing
Something I want myself to read,
I must put it aside
Pray that it is still there later
When I come to take it up
And hope it goes where I need it to.


Time, thou ever sneaking thief
You
Steal my youth,
Steal my momentum,
Steal my very life

How am I to get caught up
With your roaring juggernaut
How get done what must be done
Before another setting of the sun?


And so, to bed
While visions of plot bunnies
Run through my head

Escape!

And it's off to the land
Inside my head again
I've had about all I can stand
Of the world outside my noggin.
In here there is no politics
No hatred spread,
No one so soul- sick
Or messed up in the head
As to say that evil is God's  will,
Or hatred a Christian value
None of that kind of swill
That is so far from the true.
Here it's all about love
And peace
And joy.
Why ever would I want
To live out there?

 If only that place was real
The one I dream about
Separate from this crazy world,
Known only to the trusted few
Who protect it with great zeal,
Where only love has any clout
Where division's banners are furled
And hearts are always true.

Or, the grander reality
Of a world far in the future
Where man avoids calamity
By learning to work together.
Together all humankind
Explore the vastness of space
Having discovered in time
That we really are ONE race.
The Human one.

Although I  would much prefer
To dwell only in these sorts of worlds,
I know that I must defer
To reality's dips and whirls.
I must do my best always
To make this world come around
At the end of these days
To be like the ideal I've found.

More Randomness

Almost silent, the squadron of pigeons flies across the yard
Bound for full feeders
And a space where starlings aren't gnarling all over the place,
And no Jays scold.

When breakfasting on the patio this time of year,
I am very lucky not to accidentally ingest one of those stupid winged seeds from the neighbors ' tree.  Very lucky if they don't land in my cereal, or my beverage. Those blasted things are extra pernicious this year.

Reading this philosophy book (Breakfast With Socrates,  by Robert Rowland Smith ) and reading a bit about Nietzsche - reflecting on the Philosopher's Song by Monty Python.  I conclude that Nietzsche would likely be a very loud, angry drunk.

Waiting for YouTube to upload and process videos is one of the longest, slowest, most boring things EVER.  Not as nerve-wracking as waiting for news in a hospital, but almost as exhausting.

 It seems there are geeky people out there who love the same oddball TV shows I do.  Thunderbirds are making a comeback on Amazon Video.  I am thrilled.

The Blogger app leaves a lot to be desired.  It should auto-save work just as the web version does.  I lost a very good poem today because I got interrupted before it could be saved.  I recreated it, sort of, but the first one was better, and it's gone.

What IS it with this year?  We keep losing artists and musicians and writers and actors, and my Mom, we'll likely lose Uncle FH, too, it's just awful.  I almost lost Matt, too.  2016 has GOT to stop with  being the Year Of Death.

So grateful that this storm season has spared my little city so far.  I just hope the trend continues for the entirety of the season.  We've paid our dues to the storm furies, we deserve a break!


I only seem to get motivated to write when it's time to go to bed. Here I am again, long past midnight, and I have to get up and be coherent tomorrow.


Plumbers and other professional repair personnel seldom show up during the hours they are scheduled to.  Another whole day down the tubes.

The upside is, the frost free faucet out front has been replaced with one that doesn't leak through the anti-siphon valve, and we have a new faucet in the vanity sink in the master bath.

I really do believe I would lose my head these days if it was not attached.  I have misplaced more things in the last few weeks than I'd care to think about.

 

The End Of Poetry Month

I have just added the last poem to the month-long daily compositions that I have been posting all throughout April.
The discipline of writing something every day (well, nearly every day.  Some days I didn't, but many days I wrote and posted two) has been good for me.
There may not be daily posts anymore for a while, but I think the challenge of writing something every day may continue.  I may be more selective about what I post.  Admittedly, many of the poems this month are very rough still, some may not be things I would normally publish.  But they are what came to me each day as the month progressed.
The last poem, the one I wrote tonight, is about the TV shows that most excited me as a child.  I didn't mention titles, but anyone who is as geeky as I am would recognize Thunderbirds, Gigantor, and Star Trek.  All stuff girls weren't "supposed" to like.
Now, I was a terribly girly girl.  I had over 100 dolls, a playhouse, toy dishes, Barbies, home made Barbie clothes, frilly dresses, the whole nine yards.  I also LOVED spaceships, airplanes, and the idea of a giant robot who could fly and do all kinds of cool things.
My parents were rather schizophrenic in the way they raised me.  They kept telling me I was smart AND pretty, and expected me to go to college.  I think their real agenda was for me to find a "suitable" husband, but MY objective was to learn as much as I could.  About everything. Except maybe math.  Math and I don't get along.  Never mind that it is very necessary for those cool spaceships and robots that I love.  I like playing with words better, so here I am.

The poem about the little dog who waits at the library is one of my favorites.  I am also rather fond of my verse about trying to catch sleep.  All of the good ones seem to write themselves.

This has been a lot of fun, challenging myself to write something and get it up on the blog every single day.  I hope you have enjoyed it.