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Showing posts from September, 2021


    Jeff has taken to listening to Radio Margaritaville at night. Don't get me wrong... I love a lot of Jimmy's songs. But the repetition becomes annoying. I dearly wish they would include his lesser-known tunes. Some are absolutely soul-moving. And others have meaning despite being played over and over and over and over... "Love and Luck" is our song as a couple.  Everybody needs a little good luck charm A little gris-gris keeps you safe from harm  Rub yours on me and I'll rub mine on you  Luckiest couple on the avenue  Alright, we don't actually have a voodoo amulet. We have dogs. Does rubbing dogs count? There are songs that crawl into my brain during some of life's events. Every time I drop Better Half off at the VA for treatment that will take him away from me for a few days, or at the airport for family stuff, "All the Ways I Want You" softly plays in my head as I drive away. Stars look down and laugh at me I ought to take a bow Don'

Judith Tesh

Judith Tesh March 15 1944 - September 23 2021   Jeff's mother passed away this month. We found out while Jeff was in the checkout line at Kroger. He called me in tears, his voice raw from emotions expressed in the car and unhindered by bystanders. We knew we had to get him on a plane. Now. Without any bullshit. We had to get him to MS. I have so many regrets over Mom's passing. We didn't have the financial means to visit her, so I never met her. We shared a passion for gardening and knitting; I always wanted her to teach me how to knit patterns in person. We both had a keen sense of humor and often teamed up to take the mickey out of Jeff when on the phone. She was good, and kind, and raised my Jeff to be strong and compassionate. We had no idea that she had been in hospice care, nor that she was close to death. We thought that she was in her own home, in her own bed, and her own view of the world outside her windows. She had Alzheimer's. Jeff's younger

Good morning Bee Thing

  Bee Thing (European paper wasp) landed on my shoulder this morning. We exchanged our hellos and then I went inside to make breakfast for her. She'll overwinter soon. Mornings won't be the same without her.

Moments before the downpour

      A bit of slow motion footage during a storm. I eventually gave up and retreated to the safety of our kitchen.

Autumn Haiku

Beautiful Things: The Paper Wasp

The quote above is attributed to Camille Pissarro . He was a painter (one of my favorites) but I loved him most for his words of wisdom. I gathered them up in a little notebook back when I was a teen but that treasure was lost decades ago. You've likely seen those treasures before, tweaked ever so slightly by those wishing to appear "deep". Pissarro died in 1903 but I like to think he would not mind the deviations nor the universal harmony woven by them. "Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing." My clique back in the day adhered to this model of thinking. We were punk. Our world was filled with blue-collar grit, shit jobs, and society beating us down. Our attire was a middle finger to social norms, and our violence an outburst of our frustrations, but we took stock of the humble places and smiled at the beauty that "normal" people never took the time to look for. It was as simple as walking throug


The feather came to rest on a rotting paint stick. The bird is long gone. Being a sparrow, it is far to stupid to remember what it had for breakfast, let alone realizing that it left something behind to mark its passing this morning.  House sparrows ( Passer domesticus ) have been referred to as " the avian counterparts of cockroaches. " I  agree. Nothing will keep them at bay - sans removing every last bit of food and shelter to thwart them. I thought them adorable when we lived at our old house. The area was packed with trees and woods, thus the birds didn't bother the houses. Out here is a different matter. There are a plenitude of  trees and bushes to roost in outside of town. The food sources, however, are too plentiful for them to bother. Why fly five minutes to grab a piece of bread when you can just stay put by tearing into a roof to make room for your entire flock?  I suspect they've done this to our property; I can hear their brood chirping in the w