Next Shade

No-o-o-o ... this is not a political statement. I'm not even in favor of doing away with the kind of road work boxers are said to engage in ... or at least that they once did, in the movies.

It's just one of those signs ... at first glance it appears to be saying one thing ... on second thought it seems to be saying something else ... and probably is.

The Little Red Car and I were cruising along recently ... when we suddenly veered toward one of those stores where everything sells for a dollar ... unless otherwise marked (the natural successor to the Dime Store, I suppose ... and you're older than I thought, if you remember DIME STORES) ... anyway, there was this sign looming suddenly ahead ... well, maybe just a little off to the right.

My first thought: "Why should I end road work ... even if I could?"

On further reflection it occurred to me that the sign was trying to convey a secret message: Beyond that sign, if I were to continue, I would find that there was no more road work going on.

I'll bet. There's road work going on every place these days.

What puzzles me is how the crews know where I'm headed on a given day ... so they can hurry to set up the orange barrels ... or, at the very least, orange cones ... and those huge flashing arrow signs which tell me that, yep, I'm in the WRONG lane again ... and it may be a few days before some thoughtful ... or forgetful ... driver lets me angle back into the lane where traffic is moving.

-S&G-

TODAY'S QUOTE: "My short-term memory is not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my short-term memory is not as sharp as it used to be." - courtesy of WALT (Ohio)

-S&G-

IT WAS A DAY like any day ... pretty much ... except it was 4:30 p.m., hottest part of the day, and LOREE (Kansas) had gone out to gather eggs. She always takes "Psycho Dog" along, so she can get her jollies by fussing with the two long-necked geese, through the welded wire fence.

This was one time she was glad "Psycho Dog" was along. But let's let Loree tell it:

"As I was walking between the house and the shop building, where there is a fridge inside to hold the eggs, a SNAKE slithered across, uncomfortably close to my feet.

"I think I can safely say that I'm not scared of many things ... a short list, really, but SNAKE heads the list!

"I called out to Dixie ("Psycho Dog") and she immediately spotted the snake. One of her favorite games is to play 'crack the snake!' by grabbing it and shaking her head from side to side. That wasn't going to be easy with a snake this large, but she never quit trying.

"The snake kept making headway toward the carport and my truck, and eventually went under the truck's left rear wheel. Dixie didn't let that stop her ... she crawled under there with it! (Isn't she magnificent?!)

"The dust was whirling from beneath the truck, so I ran into the shop and grabbed what I thought would be a lethal weapon ... with me at arm's length ... a garden hoe!"

"Finally, Dixie managed to pull the snake back out from under the truck, and I screamed at her to stop ... she looked at me for just a second, and it was then that I swung the hoe down mid-way on the snake's length, with a fury enhanced by fear.

"I changed the old 'three strikes and you're out' rule to a new 'two strikes and you've cut in half' rule!"

-S&G-


TODAY'S POEM: Phyllis and I prefer walking outdoors, but if the weather is particularly disagreeable, we duck into a shopping mall, or its equivalent, and do our walking there.

We've even done the building-connecting tunnels at Wright State University ... all a part of surviving.

In the hottest part of summer, we adopt another strategy, which allows us to walk outdoors ... and survive.

We call this our "shade hike." We find some place with lots of trees ... and we're blessed with a lot of parks like that in this area ... then we go strolling from shade to shade.

While we're darting ... relatively speaking ... from shade to shade, I often think about this poem, based on childhood memories ... as many of my poems are ... but also a metaphor for dealing with problems:

NEXT SHADE

Once, walking to town,
I complained that it was
too hot, too dusty, far
too far, but Grandma,
who had walked it many
times before, simply
said, "We can make it
to next shade, then
we'll rest. Next shade,
rest," and it became
a game, the next shade
our refuge, drawing
us along like a magnet,
the trip getting easier.
I've thought of that
a lot of times when it
seemed the going had
become too demanding,
and I always found
next shade, some rest,
before pressing on,
her words still making
it easier for me.
© 1999

(originally published in Capper's)

And so it is. We find that "next shade" ... in words of comfort ... a pause ... a summoning of inner strength ... a moment in our own quiet cove ... respite ... before pressing on ... and on.

-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-

UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!

-S&G-

© 2009-