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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!"
