Saturday, January 29, 2011

Two Below

(Not a recent photo, but an example of what can, and does, happen sometimes in my back yard)

I DON’T KNOW how many of you remember last week ... I said something about being brief ... then went on and on.

Well, this is brief. 


A RECENT DISPATCH ... from LOREE (Kansas) went something like this:

After being a prisoner in my own home during that week of cold weather, it has finally warmed up just enough that I ventured out of the warm bed, in search of food.  

Like an old bear waking from its winter sleep, I stretched a bit, avoided looking in a mirror, and went into the galley.  My kitchen is so small that I call it the galley, as it well deserves.

I was almost afraid to open the fridge, or cabinet doors, as I feared that the food might be all gone.

Eventually though, I got up the nerve to open a cupboard door, and was overjoyed that, indeed, something was there! I commenced dancing around (in my aged, weakened state) celebrating, by saying:

Old Mother Hubbard,
Went to her cupboard,
And found, to her surprise ...
It wasn't bare,
For sitting there,
Were rows of pizza pies!

Don't you just love pizza when there is no choice?!


TODAY’S QUOTE: “They amaze me - these drivers who go speeding around me, sometimes even in school zones - then I find them at the next red light, just sitting there ... waiting for a brain transplant, I suppose.” - Professor Squigglee


RECENT MAIL ... this item from HOMER (Illinois), a detailed list of who reads what ... among them: 1. The Wall Street Journal is read by the people who run the country, 2. The Washington Post is read by people who think they run the country ... 11. The National Enquirer is read by people trapped in line at the grocery store, 12. The Winston-Salem Journal is read by people who have recently caught a fish and need something to wrap it in. 


BOOK NOOK: I’m still, in my spare time, working on Chronology of Native Americans, by Greg O’Brien. I’m also working my way through The Treasury of English Poetry, edited by Mark Caldwell and Walter Kendrick. I keep that one at bedside. 

And what’s on your reading table ... or electronic device?


TODAY’S POEM: This 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:


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.


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 

Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to

... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:

Thanks for paying a visit.


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


© 2011

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