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(It's a "family" of cedars I discovered on one of my walks ... couldn't resist ... )
WHOA! Where has this year gone? I know ... it’s not over yet ... but just a few more days ... a few more quickly gliding hours ... and it will be.
There were so many things I had planned to do this year. I won’t even list a few. Take my word for it ... there were a LOT of things I was going to do this year.
I suppose I could list the ones I did do ... those projects which were brought to a conclusion ... but I’d have to spend some serious time ... and hard thinking ... to come up with even a short list.
Year’s end always seems to take me by surprise. I don’t know why that is. I have a calendar always nearby. I know it’s coming. Still ... I wake up, like this morning ... and SURPRISE ... realize it’s almost gone.
I’ve enjoyed it, though.
I always enjoy hearing from old friends ... new ones, too ... I enjoy sharing some of the bits and pieces that I’ve written ... random thoughts which will soon be forgotten, even by the most attentive listener. I even enjoy passing along thoughts that Professor Squigglee shares with me (he’s such a character).
So, even at the end of weeks like this one ... when it seems that almost nothing is going on in and around Brimm Manor ... I guess I’ll keep posting these “letters from home” ... and watching my electronic mailbox for a reply.
-S&G-
LOREE (Kansas) again wins the coveted magic, mystical, mythical GOLD STAR ... for, naturally, being the first to respond to last week’s posting of CHOSEN WORDS.
“SURPRISE!” she says. “Here I am bright and early, but not bushy-tailed by any stretch of the imagination.” (It’s almost as though she’s waiting to pounce the moment CW is posted and becomes available for all the world to see)
Loree continues: “I remember as a kid, when we could hardly wait for the first really hard freeze that would keep our own pond frozen all winter ... often under two or three feet of snow!
“That was the signal for my sister and me to grab the snow shovels and make ‘roads’ all over the ice. We would then settle on a prime location and ‘build’ our own personal snow house ... usually a couple of ‘rooms’ connected by a shoveled-out walkway.
“Ah, that was when mostly all you got for Christmas was more snow, so you had to ‘clean your house’ with more shoveling! Imaginations ran wild ... I could imagine bright red curtains, fluttering at a ‘window’ where I happily washed dishes, prepared meals, etc.
“Now in reality, nothing could be further from the truth. I spent hours on that pond, just to AVOID washing dishes in our REAL house, peeling potatoes and picking up snow boots (those always left a muddy puddle on the floor), coats, and retrieving - by finding - lost gloves.
“Winter was not a pretty sight inside our house, but ... later on ... spring brought much relief!”
-S&G-
Professor Squigglee interrupts at this point ... to point out ... as I usually do about this time of year ... that we’re another day nearer to spring!
-S&G-
TODAY’S POEM: We are rooted in the places of our beginning. Oh, we may develop tendrils as we reach for new ideas, seek new adventures, pursue careers.
We may even become "tumbleweeds," traveling the countryside ... perhaps visiting ... and even settling ... abroad. But our roots remain in those places where we began, and this is apparent to us when we sit quietly, thinking ... really just thinking.
One example, in my case, involves Christmas trees. Ours was always a cedar tree, because they grew so abundantly on the hills overlooking our home. It was a special treat to go trudging out with Grandpa ... a few days before Christmas ... to pick just the right tree ... not too tall ... not too skinny ... for our living room.
There was just something about the smell of cedar filling the whole house.
When I saw another kind of Christmas tree ... on my first visit to Chicago, which seemed so distant, like another planet ... I couldn't believe THAT was their Christmas tree.
It didn't look like OUR tree at all. Its branches seemed almost bare, compared to what I had been accustomed to. It didn't have that cedar smell. And it certainly didn't have the bird's nest which I had come to expect to find somewhere in our tree.
Oh, I've finally come around to accepting other kinds of Christmas trees ... even the artificial models ... but I still find myself thinking about those other trees from my early years.
The poem:
THE ONLY TREE
I grew up believing
that a cedar was
the only true tree
for Christmas,
plain, struggling
stubbornly
on hillside clay,
having so much
in common
with folks like us.
© 1996
(originally published in Capper's)
-S&G-
COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.
Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to
rbrimm@peoplepc.com
... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)
-S&G-
Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog
... here’s a link to it:
http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/
Thanks for paying a visit.
-S&G-
UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!
-S&G-
© 2009
LOREE (Kansas) was just beginning an e-mail to Professor Squigglee ... or maybe me ... when she was interrupted ...
No, it wasn’t the sound of reindeer prancing on the roof ... too early for that ... and it wasn’t Santa sliding down the chimney ... this sound was coming from outside.
More specifically, it was coming from Loree’s trusted canine who boards in the shop building ... where the door is always open so she can come and go ... settle down inside to sleep ... and easily get out to do her nightly patrols.
Leaving the other two dogs inside, as a safety measure, Loree put on a coat, stocking cap ... and took along a flashlight.
“I had barely stepped on the little deck-type porch,” Loree reports, “when I heard a rustling in the leaves just to the south of me. I turned ... and in the spotlight I threw on him was a SKUNK!
“There could not have been over six feet separating the two of us. In my best authoritative ... no nonsense voice ... I threatened him: Go on! Get OUT of HERE!
“I must have made a believer of him, for he kicked a few leaves in a last gesture of defiance ... then took off for the south yard fence and made a getaway.
“Which was alright with me. I didn’t relish pursuit that might result in ending up in a healthy dose of ‘A La Skunk’ aimed at me.
“In fact, when I first saw him I didn’t move anything but the light ... just in case he decided to spray ... and ask questions later. I would have been an easy target for sure!”
-S&G-
Oh, and LOREE asks: Do you ever have any skunks visit Brimm Manor? I hope not.
My official response: No, we haven’t had any here at Brimm Manor since we instituted a reservations-only policy. Oh, we used to get maybe one every couple of years or so, and now we get some who try to pass themselves off as possums, but they can’t fool me, no matter what kind of disguise they use.
We did have some squirrels which were throwing wild parties in the attic, but we had our trees trimmed back a bit, and those “tree rats” haven’t figured out how to overcome that problem ... yet.
-S&G-
TODAY’S QUOTE: “No presents, please! I’m still trying to figure out how to assemble ... or use ... or determine what last year’s presents were supposed to be used for ... thank you very much.” - Professor Squigglee
-S&G-
TODAY’S POEM - There were a lot of ponds in the area where I grew up, but this poem is about one particular pond ... on the property where my brothers and sisters lived at that time. When I got to visit them (but that's another story), it was our favorite gathering place. I did my first fishing there. I went sledding down the hill and out onto the ice of that pond.
It was one of the first places I wanted to see when I came home on furlough after completing basic training. Years later, during a visit back to Illinois, I drove out in that area to show my wife that pond. But the house was gone, the land was overgrown, and we didn't even get a glimpse of the pond.
For all I know, the pond may not even exist now, but it's very much alive in my memory. The poem was originally published in Capper's ... and I know, I know ... some of you may have heard it before ... but it talks to me about a special place ... and I hope you won't mind.
The poem:
THE FROZEN POND
The pond was always home
for wayward leaves,
adding, in late summer,
the yellowed offerings
of the black walnut tree,
then the reds and golds
of maple and tulip trees,
like tiny boats lazing
among the ducks, twirling
at the tiniest stirrings
of air or water, remaining
trapped below the surface
when winter came, as though
waiting for us to come
thundering down the hill
on our sleds, out onto
the ice, that marvelous,
jeweled surface spinning
us around and around,
our laughter spilling out,
still echoing back.
-S&G-
COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.
Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to
rbrimm@peoplepc.com
... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)
-S&G-
Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:
http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/
Thanks for paying a visit.
-S&G-
UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!
-S&G-
© 2009
(Not a recent photo, thank goodness, but an example of what a nearby fence does look like on occasion)
Friday began much as any other day. I rolled out of bed ... never mind what time it was ... and my first thought was: What day is it?
Well, it was downhill from there ... fast lane all the way.
I’ll spare you the details (don’t I always? ... well, almost always), but I’ll share some highlights.
I assure you that after a hearty breakfast and a few moments of deep meditation in my favorite recliner, my thoughts turned, as they always do on Friday, to ... that’s right ... SQUIGGLES & GIGGLES.
Not quite panic time ... I still had all day ... but I could hear that midnight deadline ... self-imposed, I know, but a deadline ... already bearing down on me like a grumpy old freight train, chuffing and whistling and spreading cinders all along the way.
Ah, but there was something else on the horizon.
I may have mentioned that Brimm Manor is a fairly old structure ... put up well before houses were being shipped out in sections for quick assembly ... and probably before indoor plumbing had become the reality of recurring dreams on cold winter nights.
Oh, The Manor has indoor plumbing, mind you, and other fancy stuff, too.
Still, there was a minor problem with one of the fixtures which enhanced the room when the plumbing was moved indoors: An electric heater, installed in the wall, and, for many years, the source of toasty warmth.
Then one cold morning I turned it on and heard a POOF! I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of light, too. There was soon other evidence that the heater was in trouble. Oh, it could turn out temperatures almost approaching body warmth, but that was about it.
Well! This had gone on long enough, I decided (Phyllis, too). Precisely how long? Just take my word for it ... long ... even as the crow flies.
So Phyllis and I sallied forth in search of a replacement.
Voila! We found one. Then the fun began. First of all, the new in the wall heater was considerably smaller than the old one (actually, thank GOODNESS it was smaller ... and not LARGER ... I really didn’t want to enlarge the hole in the wall ... not with my limited set of tools ... and lack of experience).
In a matter of hours I had constructed a framework which effectively reduced the hole in the wall.
Then the fun really began.
Here’s where I spare you the sordid details. Let’s just say that Phyllis made about fourty-seven trips to the basement ... and back, of course ... in search of tools or other items I needed, but hadn’t brought with me. I have to admit that I couldn’t have done it without her help. Oh, maybe I could’ve, but it would have taken me weeks, instead of all day.
These interludes, of course, gave me no rest. I was busy trying to figure out what the next step was ... and whether I should skip it and just throw in the towel ... or whether I should plunge blindly ahead.
Bottom line: Mission accomplished. The heater is in place ... and it works (knock on wood).
Me? Oh, I have a few puncture wounds here and there ... my eyes are full of sawdust, cobwebs and old plaster ... my back will probably need a sling tomorrow ... both my hands are like sandpaper ... and not like that fine, teeny-grit stuff, either ... more like the BIG GRIT kind ... you know, the kind that would make a bulldog exclaim, “RUFF!” ... if he were to sit on a piece.
Ah, but tonight the heat’s on at Brimm Manor ... at least in that one bathroom.
-S&G-
NOTE from LOREE (Kansas) ... “I am avoiding those shopping malls this year like they are some kind of plague ... Can you imagine the excitement that must grip the H1N1 virus when it gets an early grip on someone, who then heads for the mall?
“The togetherness of the crowd is touching ... in more ways than one! That touching turns into jostling, then downright painful pokes that leave no doubt as to their intentions.
“As the clock winds down to the time for opening the doors, the crowd increases in size ... the happy voices turn to snarls and rudeness. Early signs of the Holiday spirit disappear, replaced by a dog-eat-dog mentality! Anyone who ventured out, hoping for the excitement of some great bargains ... and the cheapening of their Christmas shopping ... plus the warm feeling of doing it early this year, has to be CRAZY, for Black Friday reveals the true nature of mankind ... hidden the rest of the year under a facade of Mr. And Mrs. Nice Persons.”
-S&G-
TODAY’S POEM ... is a winter poem. No doubt about that.
It's reminiscent of Northern Illinois, where we spent several bitterly cold winters, but it was written during, and about, winter in Ohio ... or any place where temperatures sink unmercifully low, then struggle to rise, fall again, struggle again ... fall.
Little wonder that we find an unnamed couple sleeping under that "pale slice of lemon floating in thin clouds" ... "like two ... bears dreaming of spring."
This one was originally published in Southern Humanities Review:
TWO BELOW
Pale slice of lemon
floating in thin clouds
far above temperatures
fallen, clicking,
struggling to rise
where they were
some time yesterday
before falling back
in the sullen darkness
that will cradle us
like two sleeping bears
dreaming of spring.
-S&G-
COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.
Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to
rbrimm@peoplepc.com
... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)
-S&G-
Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog
... here’s a link to it:
http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/
Thanks for paying a visit.
-S&G-
UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!
-S&G-
© 2009
PROFESSOR SQUIGGLEE ... remember him? ... said he was strolling through a mall recently ... and noticed how shoppers (he was thankful the mall wasn’t too crowded with them at the time) were so like drivers.
“So many of them went whizzing around me like I was standing still,” he said. The Prof admits that he isn’t a power walker, but he does keep moving ... most of the time.
He says he also noticed that when he encountered three or four abreast ... headed straight toward him ... not one of them yielded an inch. He says he learned long ago that it’s best just to step aside ... and avoid a head-on collision.
“Some of the shoppers whip around me ... turn directly into my path ... and into a shop about half a step ahead of where I am. Couldn’t they wait just half a second ... until I’ve cleared the doorway ... and then go in?”
“Oh, and when they come out,” he observes, “they look neither to the right nor left ... but come barreling out with their double armload of purchases. I try to avoid colliding with them, too.”
“Then, no doubt, they get into their high-powered vehicles and go roaring off to play bumper-cars for real.”
-S&G-
THE PROFESSOR says this experience set him to thinking about preparing a pop quiz for shoppers/drivers.
(I don’t think he plans to give the quiz to everybody ... and I’m sure it’s an optional test for those who take it ... with the admonition to keep in mind that the second part of this blog’s title is “Giggles”)
The professor’s quiz ... and the questions aren’t given any particular weighting ... there’s really no pass/fail grading involved. Most questions, you may notice, require only a yes or no answer. (And remember, these are HIS impertinent questions, not MINE):
1. ___ Can you read?
2. ___ Do you know the meaning of the word S-T-O-P?
3. ___ Do you consider it just another four-letter word?
4. ___ Do you know the meaning of SPEED (as it relates to those activities taking place on streets and highways ... maybe even country roads, too)?
5. ___ Do you know the meaning of LIMIT?
6. ___ Do you consider it to have an optional meaning?
7. ___ Can you put two words together ... say from Nos. 4 and 5, for example ... and explain the resultant meaning without resorting to a bunch of legal jargon?
8. ___ Did you know your vehicle has devices for indicating your intentions ... rather than what you just did (like when changing lanes)?
9. ___ Do you know where those devices are?
10. ___ Have you ever used them?
11. ___ Would you like to learn how to use them?
12. ___ Have you ever yielded the right-of-way to another driver ... besides the driver of a semi- or other humongous vehicle?
And now for the serious part:
13. ___ Do you know how many thousands ... that’s right, thousands ... we kill on our highways each year?
14. ___ Do you really think you won’t be one of them?
-S&G-
NOTE FROM LOREE (Kansas) ... “loved the poem (last week’s “Autumn Crossing”) ... reminded me of why I hate thinking about moving out of the country and into town. Still, I know each day that passes brings that particular day one day closer!
“In town they DETEST those colorful leaves ... to the point that the city fathers INSIST that those all be picked up ... every last one of them. Surely much of the joy of their beauty is suddenly lost when one has to man a rake, drag huge plastic bags all over the place, and try to pick up all of the culprits.
“Each person who pulls leaf duty waits for just the right day for the chore. No too hot (sweat isn’t becoming!) ... absolutely no wind. In Kansas that in itself is a chore ... finding just the right day.”
-S&G-
TODAY’S QUOTE - “I have never hated a man enough to give his diamonds back.” - Zsa Zsa Gabor (courtesy of WALT, Ohio)
-S&G-
TODAY’S POEM - My reaction, at the time the event occurred, went from puzzlement ... to surprise ... to that pleasant feeling you get when somebody does a good turn for you ... and doesn't want, in fact, would refuse, anything in return.
Oh, I suppose my neighbor was grateful for the small favors we did him and his family when they had a house fire shortly after moving in. But he didn't owe us anything for our help, either. That's what neighbors do for each other.
He was grateful then ... and I was certainly grateful for all that shoveling he was doing for me. I had been waiting out the storm, dreading the task that confronted me. Then, suddenly, there he was, the good neighbor.
If I were to go ahead with this, I'd probably become preachy ... so, I'll just say that this one was originally published in The Christian Science Monitor:
THE GOOD DEED
All day the snow
has come sifting down,
obscuring objects
in our shaken globe,
and I'm standing
staring out the window
when I see the shape
of a person who's
obviously been driven
wild by the storm,
who pauses and turns
into someone I know
... my neighbor,
shoveling my walk.
-S&G-
COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.
Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to
rbrimm@peoplepc.com
... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)
-S&G-
Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog
... here’s a link to it:
http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/
Thanks for paying a visit.
-S&G-
UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!
-S&G-
© 2009
MONDAY afterthoughts ...
LOREE (Kansas) has won the coveted Magical, Mystical, Mythical GOLD STAR for being the first to respond to the current installment of S&G. It was almost as though she was waiting to pounce ... for there she was, at daybreak Saturday morning with a comment, proving once again that you have to get up pretty early to get ahead of Loree.
Her observation regarding crowds in the malls: "One is at high risk of two things ... being knocked down and trampled by uncaring shoppers, or contracting the H1N1 virus ... each enough of a deterrent to keep me home!"
Thursday was such a beautiful day ... cloudy, windy, raining ... yes, all that ... but it wasn’t freezing rain, and the only swirling snow we saw had been in the forecast the night before.
So we hopped into The Little Red Car and headed out on the longest journey I’ve taken ... by car, with me at the wheel ... in years.
We drove all the way to Indianapolis, taking care to take the back roads all the way ... and some even farther back than that.
Little Red seemed to enjoy the trip ... especially those parts where we went slowly through small towns ... taking care to observe all the rules of the road, as though we were being watched carefully by someone in one of those specially marked ... or unmarked ... cars, of which there seemed to be more of an abundance than usual.
The journey ... and it was a journey, believe me ... took a little over three hours, thanks, in part, to my navigation system (all in my head ... none of this fancy GPS stuff for me).
I had done some map study a few days before ... had it all, as I said, in my head (tons of unused memory in there) ... and things went pretty well ... slowly, but pretty well ... until we were almost there.
I turned off on the correct street, though it looked like an alley with parking on one side, mind you ... and I didn’t know it would only go a block in our direction before ending abruptly.
As we sat at the STOP sign studying our options, we noted that our street resumed a few hundred feet to our RIGHT. The street we had to cross to get to it, however, was a one-way street to our LEFT.
So we took the scenic route ... finally got back to OUR street ... enjoyed it until ... about two blocks later ... it ended again.
I had no idea where I was then ... so I turned left ... again ... and drove on, as though I knew exactly where I was.
Then, quite suddenly, I discovered I had stumbled ... er, steered ... back onto OUR street ... now a lovely four-lane thoroughfare on which traffic was proceeding in a very orderly fashion ... with the usual one or two exceptions, of course.
To make a long story short, we arrived at our destination on the same day that we set out ... much to everyone’s surprise ... enjoyed the traditional humongous meal ... conversations ... the joy of watching the children playing together.
I even managed to sneak away, find an unoccupied upstairs bed, and spend half an hour or so in deep meditation while the festivities continued below.
The trip home? Oh, we took the Interstate all the way home ... took about a couple of hours, instead of three. I felt Little Red was relaxed now, rested after that long, arduous drive over, and seemed to be enjoying sharing the highway with all those other, much bigger vehicles which went sizzling past in a cloud of spray.
Me? I wasn’t nearly as relaxed as Little Red seemed to be. I thought someone was going to have to pry my hands loose from the steering wheel when we got home ... but I managed that with almost no assistance at all.
And today (Friday)? Oh, I’m getting some feeling back in my fingers, and I expect ... in a few days or so ... to have them all straightened out again ... and flexing ... or almost so.
-S&G-
TODAY’S QUOTE - “Santa Claus has the right idea. Visit people only once a year.” - Victor Borge (courtesy of WALT, Ohio)
-S&G-
“I FOUND OUT one thing yesterday,” writes LOREE, Kansas ... “After delivering the meals on wheels with my brother-in-law, we drove back to Winfield and went to the Co-Op, where I bought enough chicken feed to run me until NEXT year!”
How much did you buy, Loree?
“ ... I bought 800 pounds ... which equates to sixteen 50-pound sacks. I was able to match, sack for sack, my brother-in-law’s efforts, and still had energy, air, and was raring to go. Why, I could have unloaded ALL of it myself, had he not insisted on helping me.”
At this point, folks, it helps to know that Loree has a Pacemaker ... and is ... “feeling better than I have felt for over two months. It is a great feeling, once again, to want to WORK!”
But FIFTY pounds? It hasn’t been very long since I was struggling to unload a FORTY-pound bag of something (might even have been just THIRTY) from the trunk of my car. And where was Professor Squigglee when I needed him? Hiding in the library, probably.
-S&G-
NOTE from HELEN, Florida ... enduring a slow and painful recovery from major fractures ... includes a photo of a house that’s really decked out for Christmas ... has all kinds of lights and figures ... probably has appropriate music going. And next door there’s a smaller house with a single set of lights which spells out “DITTO.”
-S&G-
NOTE from CATHY, Illinois ... mentions that she won a turkey on a radio program, for naming 10 tunes that the host played ... all of them “Golden Oldies.”
Oh, how I envy someone who can do that ... I have trouble coming up with the title when I hear ONE tune that sounds familiar. I can’t imagine coming up with TEN!
-S&G-
NOTE from JOHN, Florida ... says he’s looking forward to next February 4, when he will be 90 ... because that figure looks more impressive in a newspaper item than a mere 89.
Hey, let’s all celebrate that milestone, John ... then shoot for the perfect 100.
-S&G-
TODAY’S POEM - Autumn is one of my favorite seasons ... largely because I tire of blazing hot weather ... thank you very much ... and start looking forward to cooler nights ... good sleeping weather ... the fall colors, which I always enjoy ... the sight of leaves sifting gently to the earth ... the sounds and the feel of them as I go kicking through on my daily walk.
This poem was written on a bus, of all places. We were humming along northward, somewhere in Ohio.
The highway seemed to be an endless ribbon unspooling toward us ... but there on both sides ... oh, there was something to watch! The autumn trees were at their absolute peak, as though they were expecting us ... expecting "company."
And there we were.
I was struck by how the colors seemed to be parting, then closing behind us ... something like the parting of the Red Sea in those old movies.
Naturally, I dug out a scrap of paper and began writing ... and here's the result:
AUTUMN CROSSING
A sea of color
rages ahead,
parting for us
with the soft
hum of miles
falling away,
gently washing
back into place,
cloaking all
traces of our
safe crossing.
© 1997
(Originally published in The American Scholar)
-S&G-
COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.
Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to
rbrimm@peoplepc.com
... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)
-S&G-
Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:
http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/
Thanks for paying a visit.
-S&G-
UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!
-S&G-
© 2009
I had a doctor’s appointment Friday moning.
Don’t worry. I wasn’t sick. Just routine. One of those pit stops I make regularly before I get back out there in the human race.
I don’t know about you, but my appointment always includes a blood pressure check. Bad news. Traffic is always so bad ... people tailgating me ... passing me in school zones where the speed limit lights are flashing ... cutting in front of me with inches to spare ... then suddenly hitting their brakes and making a right turn into a fast food place.
I don’t have to put the cuff on to know that my blood pressure is up ... way up ... by the time I hop out of Little Red and go hot-footing into my favorite doctor’s office.
But this Friday morning? I don’t know what was different about it, except I made it all the way to the vicinity of the doctor’s office without having a run-in with somebody ... oh, there were a couple of close calls (there always are, right?) ... but I arrived as calm as a cucumber.
I was making that last turn into the parking lot in front of the medical facilities ... and a few other commercial ventures.
I really hadn’t noticed a vehicle turning ahead of me, but there it was as I turned in ... and it was stopping in a Fire Lane (no parking there, right?) ... and it was parking.
Just as I started to go around, the driver’s side door opened in my path.
I hit the brakes ... and Little Red responded like a pro, thank goodness, for the driver ... who obviously hadn’t looked before opening his door ... or hopping out ... hopped out in my path, smiled in my direction and strode off.
I think I needn’t say what my blood pressure reading was minutes later.
-S&G-
LIFE, writes LOREE (Kansas), at least for the adult years, is a combination of three major things ... with a lot of subdivisions:
“We spend our time in 'panic mode' ... ‘blast off’ ... and once in a while, 'cruise control.'
“Blast off consists of when we hit the floor running, thanks to an alarm clock.
“Panic mode was when that same clock kept telling us that we couldn't possibly get kids ready for school, beds made, lunches packed, and make it to our own job on time, looking unruffled and fresh as a daisy.
“Cruise control was on those rare days when everything clicked, fell together, and nothing went wrong.
“Those days were so rare, that now I can barely remember ANY of those, at all!
“Somehow, I spent my last five years of working, alternating between counting the days off on a calendar as the countdown to retirement progressed, and mistakenly thinking that when that day arrived, it would resolve the panic mode, and do away with the blast off. And cruise control would be all that was needed!
“How naive can one foolish person be, and make it to MY age? Well, I'm living proof that we never get far from the 'roots' we grew during our working years!
“I still blast off on days when I have a doctor's appointment, or have to pay the bills ... panic mode is when I look at the calendar and see that it is REALLY Monday, when I would have sworn it was only Saturday.
“Cruise control? Forget it or scratch it ... either way, it is as rare now, as it was seven or eight years ago!”
-S&G-
TODAY’S POEM: I've often said that I can't rhyme worth a dime ... but here I go again.
I keep trying. For me it's something like trying to leap over a high picket fence ... uphill ... and on a slippery slope, at that. I have trouble maintaining any kind of a rhyme scheme while trying to tell a story ... if, indeed, I have a story to tell.
I keep promising that I won't, but I do ... keep trying, that is. It's simply the challenge, I guess.
The result? Today's poem ... a double-edged blunt blade, if you will ... a poem about the difficulty ... at least the difficulty I have ... with keeping promises, especially to myself ... and it's a poem in rhyme:
PROMISES
I begin my year
With high resolve,
But my plans, I fear,
Start to dissolve
As the new wears off
The leaf I've turned
And the flames flare off
Bridges I've burned.
(originally published in Mature Living)
-S&G-
COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.
Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to
rbrimm@peoplepc.com
... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)
-S&G-
Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:
http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/
Thanks for paying a visit.
-S&G-
UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!
-S&G-
© 2009
