We had a big brown spider crawling on our wall
I wasn’t sure if it was poisonous, so I gave my knight a call,
“Oh, Honey, can you come see this? I think it’s really creepy.”
I was closer to feeling hypnotized than to feeling weepy.
This was the biggest, hairiest spider I had ever seen --
At about three inches across, what if it was mean?
Could it jump across the room with an aerial attack?
Would it kill me with its bite before I could fight back?
My hero stopped his work in the kitchen making salads.
His bravery in the face of this danger isn’t quite the stuff of ballads,
But he did attempt to protect our home and his lady love.
With a wad of paper towels, he approached it from above.
But the spider was too quick for him; it made a getaway.
I know that he’s hiding somewhere in our house until another day,
When I’ll be dusting the mantelpiece and out the spider will pop.
I think it’s a Huntsman spider, so my heart won’t have to stop.
I’ll attempt to catch him instead of squashing him with a shoe.
Now that I’ve had time to research his kind, it’s the least I can do.
Then I can release him to his natural forested habitat,
But he may still be in danger if he’s captured by our cat.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Fine Foods and 3-D Flicks
It was nice to get away from the garden and go to the big city. It’s no secret that my sense of adventure is greater than that of my man.I suspect that’s because his life was serene and settled as a child and more hectic than he wanted it to be for most of his adult life. He really likes the rhythm of retirement.
Richard yearns for the intimacy of small-town relationships and the soothing sounds of tractors, trucks, and power tools as they help us in our work. I long for the laughter, the song and the hustle and bustle of the city. I also love the anonymity of the crowds, where missteps are hardly noticed and one can reinvent oneself without paying the price of long-remembered wrongs passed from one family member and one generation to another.
Grocery stores and restaurants generally reflect the culture of their area. We can hardly find ethnic ingredients other than a few Americanized Italian, Mexican, and Chinese items within two hours of Coker Creek. It’s important to me that we regularly shop in more ethnic areas. Richard is quite a movie buff with a special preference for 3-D; the closest 3-D theatres are all two hours away in three different directions.
We usually choose to shop and play in Atlanta because we have family and friends there. Atlanta is much too busy for Richard’s comfort, and it’s really too large for mine, but they do have any foods you want and the movie theatres are many. Richard can also get world-class post-transplant care for his nearly-new heart from the teaching hospitals in this huge metropolis.
At Holly’s house we have our own personal chef who does the shopping and the cooking better than any area restaurant. How many people can say that their chef also cooks for heads of state on a regular basis? After Richard’s appointments with his doctors, we take in movies; Schrek is even funnier in 3-D. We head home in plenty of time to enjoy the scenery on our drive home, and to see the sun set behind the hills in our holler.
Richard is fond of saying that there’s nothing scarier than too much freedom. It is true that having less choices in everything can soothe the soul, but with too little stimulation of the spirit I feel a bit dead. It seems that everyone we encounter here calls themselves Christian, and most are white, Anglo-Saxon, and Protestant.
We’re such an insular community that I’m afraid any of my missteps will come back to haunt me for many generations. I don’t think most people here really know what to make of a crazy Cajun Catholic. Richard says that I’m like hot sauce; sometimes it burns, but he likes it anyway. This is not generally a group that likes a lot of spice. I have to get away sometimes to let my “wild child” out to play.
Richard yearns for the intimacy of small-town relationships and the soothing sounds of tractors, trucks, and power tools as they help us in our work. I long for the laughter, the song and the hustle and bustle of the city. I also love the anonymity of the crowds, where missteps are hardly noticed and one can reinvent oneself without paying the price of long-remembered wrongs passed from one family member and one generation to another.
Grocery stores and restaurants generally reflect the culture of their area. We can hardly find ethnic ingredients other than a few Americanized Italian, Mexican, and Chinese items within two hours of Coker Creek. It’s important to me that we regularly shop in more ethnic areas. Richard is quite a movie buff with a special preference for 3-D; the closest 3-D theatres are all two hours away in three different directions.
We usually choose to shop and play in Atlanta because we have family and friends there. Atlanta is much too busy for Richard’s comfort, and it’s really too large for mine, but they do have any foods you want and the movie theatres are many. Richard can also get world-class post-transplant care for his nearly-new heart from the teaching hospitals in this huge metropolis.
At Holly’s house we have our own personal chef who does the shopping and the cooking better than any area restaurant. How many people can say that their chef also cooks for heads of state on a regular basis? After Richard’s appointments with his doctors, we take in movies; Schrek is even funnier in 3-D. We head home in plenty of time to enjoy the scenery on our drive home, and to see the sun set behind the hills in our holler.
Richard is fond of saying that there’s nothing scarier than too much freedom. It is true that having less choices in everything can soothe the soul, but with too little stimulation of the spirit I feel a bit dead. It seems that everyone we encounter here calls themselves Christian, and most are white, Anglo-Saxon, and Protestant.
We’re such an insular community that I’m afraid any of my missteps will come back to haunt me for many generations. I don’t think most people here really know what to make of a crazy Cajun Catholic. Richard says that I’m like hot sauce; sometimes it burns, but he likes it anyway. This is not generally a group that likes a lot of spice. I have to get away sometimes to let my “wild child” out to play.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Mountain Mama Mamie Mostly Gives Advice
Mountain Mama Mamie mostly gives us advice,
Even though she’s weeded a row more than once or twice.
She oversees our labors and wants to push a plow;
But Richard says, at ninety, she should leave that to him now.
We’re pleased that she will teach us although we’re city slickers;
There’s only so much we can learn from textbooks and pictures .
She says her gardening days are over, while ours have just begun;
But working without Mamie isn’t nearly as much fun.
What could be better than sharing the wonders of growing
The plowing, the planting, the tending, and the sowing?
Unless it’s the joys of cooking, tasting and canning --
All the late summer events that we’re planning.
Even though she’s weeded a row more than once or twice.
She oversees our labors and wants to push a plow;
But Richard says, at ninety, she should leave that to him now.
We’re pleased that she will teach us although we’re city slickers;
There’s only so much we can learn from textbooks and pictures .
She says her gardening days are over, while ours have just begun;
But working without Mamie isn’t nearly as much fun.
What could be better than sharing the wonders of growing
The plowing, the planting, the tending, and the sowing?
Unless it’s the joys of cooking, tasting and canning --
All the late summer events that we’re planning.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Birthday Boy's Feast
What a birthday we had
Rejoicing with Richard
Our beautiful birthday boy.
We first went to Mamie’s
To weed the garden
And play with her power toys.
The tiller wouldn’t start
The weeds wouldn’t budge
We hoed, hustled, and pulled.
We were determined
To beat the rains
Of which the clouds were full.
We got the job done
Almost killing ourselves
We had plans for a birthday feast.
Our chef friend Holly
Was cooking for us
In a town to our southeast.
She served us pasta
With fresh shrimp
Scallops and asparagus,
Tomato salad,
And fruit trifle --
She really made a fuss.
Rejoicing with Richard
Our beautiful birthday boy.
We first went to Mamie’s
To weed the garden
And play with her power toys.
The tiller wouldn’t start
The weeds wouldn’t budge
We hoed, hustled, and pulled.
We were determined
To beat the rains
Of which the clouds were full.
We got the job done
Almost killing ourselves
We had plans for a birthday feast.
Our chef friend Holly
Was cooking for us
In a town to our southeast.
She served us pasta
With fresh shrimp
Scallops and asparagus,
Tomato salad,
And fruit trifle --
She really made a fuss.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Sunday with Several Friends
We spent Sunday with several friends;
It was all very nicely paced.
As Richard cooked his favorite pork ribs,
With Don’s presence, we were graced.
We talked of our veterans, family, and faith --
All favorite topics of mine.
Richard and Don both served our country
When we were fighting in Vietnam.
Mountaintop Mary came to meet her man;
We shared coffee and some laughs.
Richard sent them off with cabbage and ribs,
And jokes about Beano and gas.
Then it was over to our garden at Mamie’s
To pull some Hitler weed.
We’d like to get ahead of it
Before it goes to seed.
Mamie and I talked raising vegetables
And how we reared our kids.
I finally had to join Richard;
We had come over to dig.
We’re trying a new way to garden
With no plow or tiller or hoe.
The secret is to lay down very thick mulch
Before you begin to sow.
I began to transplant our butternut squash
Under the leaves Richard had spread.
We’re hoping this method will work
In smothering weeds till they’re dead.
When the rains began to blind us
We retreated to our place,
Where the scents of Richard’s cooking
Permeated all our space.
It was all very nicely paced.
As Richard cooked his favorite pork ribs,
With Don’s presence, we were graced.
We talked of our veterans, family, and faith --
All favorite topics of mine.
Richard and Don both served our country
When we were fighting in Vietnam.
Mountaintop Mary came to meet her man;
We shared coffee and some laughs.
Richard sent them off with cabbage and ribs,
And jokes about Beano and gas.
Then it was over to our garden at Mamie’s
To pull some Hitler weed.
We’d like to get ahead of it
Before it goes to seed.
Mamie and I talked raising vegetables
And how we reared our kids.
I finally had to join Richard;
We had come over to dig.
We’re trying a new way to garden
With no plow or tiller or hoe.
The secret is to lay down very thick mulch
Before you begin to sow.
I began to transplant our butternut squash
Under the leaves Richard had spread.
We’re hoping this method will work
In smothering weeds till they’re dead.
When the rains began to blind us
We retreated to our place,
Where the scents of Richard’s cooking
Permeated all our space.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Revolution and Retreat
Our country was created by men who had very varied lines of communication and education, but they were still limited to the WASP mindset, which was their only frame of reference for ruling. The world of communication and education today encompasses the wide world of ideas and ideologies. Some are frightened by this; others are energized.
I find it exciting that I can exchange ideas with people that I may never meet from places that I may never visit. My friend Susan can find some degree of connection in every encounter she has. I’m quite convinced that she could find someone who knew someone she knows in the snow banks of Siberia. I have learned from her to look for areas of agreement in every encounter.
What makes our country so vibrant is our ability to accommodate and assimilate. The changes since the Second World War expanded our technological and industrial capabilities, while opening our eyes to the horrors of hatred and the wealth of the world views beyond our borders. This happened mighty fast for easy assimilation, which has many of us reeling to regain our footing.
Our only hope to conquer our fears is constant communication. We must talk about what we fear in order to learn how to handle it. We must also learn to discern truth from a distillation of all the varied voices in the cacophony.
I read in Time Magazine about a study of how people choose their leaders. This article stated that those who speak most forcefully and loudly are followed. This seems to be the case in most of today’s society. My Richard is fond of telling me that just because I can talk louder than he does, it doesn’t mean I’m right.
I don’t think our founding fathers were a bombastic bunch. They seem to have been a very thoughtful, possibly even soft-spoken, group of guys. And they sure could construct a concise statement of their mission and position.
Society doesn’t wrap their heads around revolution without much anxiety about the unknown. We don’t change our way of life in a vacuum. All of our changes create a domino effect down the line of all our networks.
Those of us who are blessed with many unrelated spokes coming off the hub of ourselves in our sphere of influence may be better able to handle more rapid change than those who have all their people in a straight row from the center of their lives. Many voices may make new ideas easier to understand.
There’s an adage in business that, in order for a business to succeed, one shouldn’t invent something new, but should improve what already exists by ten percent. I come from a very malfunctional family. I have spent my life attempting to improve the functionality of the generations that come after me in ten percent per generation increments. Some have soared and some have stumbled, but I do believe that patient persistence is better than retreat to the safety of our past.
I find it exciting that I can exchange ideas with people that I may never meet from places that I may never visit. My friend Susan can find some degree of connection in every encounter she has. I’m quite convinced that she could find someone who knew someone she knows in the snow banks of Siberia. I have learned from her to look for areas of agreement in every encounter.
What makes our country so vibrant is our ability to accommodate and assimilate. The changes since the Second World War expanded our technological and industrial capabilities, while opening our eyes to the horrors of hatred and the wealth of the world views beyond our borders. This happened mighty fast for easy assimilation, which has many of us reeling to regain our footing.
Our only hope to conquer our fears is constant communication. We must talk about what we fear in order to learn how to handle it. We must also learn to discern truth from a distillation of all the varied voices in the cacophony.
I read in Time Magazine about a study of how people choose their leaders. This article stated that those who speak most forcefully and loudly are followed. This seems to be the case in most of today’s society. My Richard is fond of telling me that just because I can talk louder than he does, it doesn’t mean I’m right.
I don’t think our founding fathers were a bombastic bunch. They seem to have been a very thoughtful, possibly even soft-spoken, group of guys. And they sure could construct a concise statement of their mission and position.
Society doesn’t wrap their heads around revolution without much anxiety about the unknown. We don’t change our way of life in a vacuum. All of our changes create a domino effect down the line of all our networks.
Those of us who are blessed with many unrelated spokes coming off the hub of ourselves in our sphere of influence may be better able to handle more rapid change than those who have all their people in a straight row from the center of their lives. Many voices may make new ideas easier to understand.
There’s an adage in business that, in order for a business to succeed, one shouldn’t invent something new, but should improve what already exists by ten percent. I come from a very malfunctional family. I have spent my life attempting to improve the functionality of the generations that come after me in ten percent per generation increments. Some have soared and some have stumbled, but I do believe that patient persistence is better than retreat to the safety of our past.
Friday, June 4, 2010
My Community, My Country
I’m so proud of my country, how far it’s evolved.
Though there are still many problems to be solved,
We no longer wait for our politicians to protect us;
We know that our neighbors are who we can trust
To rebuild our communities and share our plight.
If we’re all in it together, we will do what’s right.
We have always assisted those in need.
We now accept those of all races, religions, and creeds.
We have always attempted to shore up the weak.
We try not to hurt anyone with the words that we speak.
We work for fairness and speak our anger
Rather than putting our families in danger
With outbursts of violence in response to our fears.
We share our concerns through our words and our tears.
Sometimes,sharing thoughts is all we can do
To help others understand a different point of view.
It’s a blessing that we are empowered to say
What’s on our minds without joining the fray
Of hysterical bullies and their fearful lot.
Our blended voices are the best tools we’ve got.
Though there are still many problems to be solved,
We no longer wait for our politicians to protect us;
We know that our neighbors are who we can trust
To rebuild our communities and share our plight.
If we’re all in it together, we will do what’s right.
We have always assisted those in need.
We now accept those of all races, religions, and creeds.
We have always attempted to shore up the weak.
We try not to hurt anyone with the words that we speak.
We work for fairness and speak our anger
Rather than putting our families in danger
With outbursts of violence in response to our fears.
We share our concerns through our words and our tears.
Sometimes,sharing thoughts is all we can do
To help others understand a different point of view.
It’s a blessing that we are empowered to say
What’s on our minds without joining the fray
Of hysterical bullies and their fearful lot.
Our blended voices are the best tools we’ve got.
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