Wednesday, March 01, 2017

Is This Thing On?

video

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

A Poem About Snow


Why?
Well. Obviously.
Because I love it!!!!!


video

We should be home.
Walking down the gravel.
Holding hands.
Listening to the flakes
as they land on the
brittle remnants
of last summers shade.

Second best though
is to be tucked in
safely
behind a big window
where I can watch it
fall
and fall
and fall
just as silently
just as beautifully
on the ground
out there in the cold.

Thank you God
for the beauty
of snow.


Thursday, October 29, 2015

Bambi Dance


Full disclosure.

Lest one
be led
to assume
the weekend-past
to which I referred
in my last post
was one
long and amazing 
celebratory 
moment 
after
another
absent 
of challenges.

Hmm. Nope.
Not the case.


"Would you care to dance?"

Pretty sure
that's what a swashbuckling and handsome
young buck
of some considerable girth
was saying
from the side of the road
when first
we spotted him.

Alas.
He was an impatient sort.
Perhaps a little heady.

The guy
never waited
for the answer
instead
made the unfortunate
and fatal decision
of
stepping out in front
of our car
presumably
ready to doe-si-doe
(Arrr arr arrrr)
as we moseyed past
at ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
round about's
50 miles an hour.
Give or take.

Spotting him
hitting him
and watching him
tumble
ass over antler
all happened
within the blink of an eye.

Literally.
One minute 
he's delivering the roadside invite.

Next minute
he's 
taking a breather
in the ditch.

Well.
Not exactly a breather.
Pretty sure
he was having his very first
face to face chat
with Jesus
and nodding a quick hello
to my departed loved ones.




He left a few parts
on the concrete 
dance floor.

And
as it turned out
a few reminders
on the front end 
of our car.


Ouch.
Take that
old yet faithful
little Saturn
who now sports
a tuft of woodland fur
as hood ornament.

Complaints??
None.
Not a one.

I feel sorry for Bambi.
I do.
But one only has
to Google
"Deer Car Wrecks"
to pop up
nightmarish images
of what
COULD HAVE HAPPENED.

And didn't.

I'm so thankful.
I am so grateful.
We kept it on the road.
No one hurt.
Gotta get a new car.
Oh well.

Life goes on.




Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Music For the Soul

Some nights
just bless the socks
right offa ya.

Such was Sunday.
And our thanks to 
the beautiful
and gracious
Plumb
for an evening of
soul-sweet
music from the heart.

What a voice!


Powerful
powerful
voice 
out of a little lady
who is also
a great 
storyteller.

Enjoy! 



Traveling with
Plumb's Exhale Tour
was another young lady
whose lyrics
carved deep
into my heart
as she sang from
her keyboard.

Christa Wells.
Love her voice.
Love the way she weaves
her messages
with notes
and expression
just so gentle.
So lovely.

Again.....enjoy!


Another band
from New Zealand
got everyone's
heart pumping
and feet stomping.
They were fun!
Thanks
Rapture Ruckus!!!
That's us
ohhh
about four rows back
hootin' and hollerin'
for the selfie.


I must be older than
I like to admit.
I couldn't understand
a word
of the rap
lyrics.
But I think
the kids
did.
And that's
plenty good enough
for me.

It was a crazy-fun
beautiful night.
From sitting under the flagpole
yakkin
before the show
to the Meet and Greet
and running into old friends
with new stories.
We got lost in the music.
That's the best kind of night.
Just a
beautiful
beautiful
praise-filled
music-filled
night.



Friday, October 16, 2015

I Was Supposed to Have a Better Weekend


I was supposed to be raking leaves this weekend.

   

I was planning to pull out my work gloves
and the rolls of big
garbage sacks
and we'd fill them
until we were tired enough
that 
around noon
we'd break for lunch
and I'd whip
up some sandwiches
that we'd eat on the deck
with the dogs
at our feet
begging
as usual
for the scraps.

They'd get 
scraps.
It was always
part of the deal
when we ate dinner
on the deck.

I was supposed to 
eat breakfast at the Legion
this weekend.
The works.
As usual.
Eggs and biscuits
and gravy
and bacon and toast
and sausage
and coffee
from some weird
stoneware
mug
that said
Earlham Savings Bank
on the side.

We'd get interrupted
five times in our morning conversation
by the coffee refill lady
doing her volunteer 
best
to make sure
we were caffeinated
and smiling
when we walked
out of the building
with toothpicks
in our teeth.

I was supposed to buy
marshmallows
for the campfire
this weekend.


Up there on the hill
where my Chuck sleeps
we were supposed to
light a fire
as the evening grew cooler
and the sun set behind the hill.
I had blankets 
in the studio
just for nights like this.
We'd need them
this weekend.
They say
we'll have frost.

I was supposed
to sing this weekend.
In the car.
On our road trip
on the way to
no where in particular.
With CD's.
Or songs
out of the blue.
That's what you do when
you're hanging with someone
you wear
wrapped around you like
a favorite sweater.
Comfortable.
Warm.
Safe.
The one you'd 
never part with.
Not ever.

I was supposed to 
pull my old sweatshirt 
out of the bottom drawer 
this weekend.
For our walk.
Down the gravel road
with the dogs.
We were
supposed to hear the sound
of neighbors
laughing
and enjoying the weekend.
We were supposed to 
look at the moon
and maybe
even wish upon a star.

We were
supposed to fall asleep
halfway into
The Hobbit
this weekend.
After I'd stolen
the best bite
from your toast.
After we'd laughed
remembering
the back-up noise
you made
every time Chuck
threw it into reverse
and left the bedside
to find his favorite spot for the night.

And I was supposed
to wake up
this weekend
with
my happy head
buried
in the clouds
and the planets
and the stars
just after it got light.

I was supposed to
have a better weekend
than this one.
One
I'd spend
lots of time
wondering
just how on earth
I got so
lucky.


Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Sunshine and Smiles


They parked us just a
short stroll
or should I say
march
from the
firing range.

So it was
all morning long
as we heated the chili
iced the
Monster and Gatorade
and arranged
buckets of 
cheese and sour cream
and hot peppers
we did so
to the echo of
gunfire.

Loud
continual
gunfire.

They actually
posted us just a
short few yards
from the weapons trailer
where lines of
soldiers
were checking out guns
for their assigned practice.


We felt very
very secure.

It was a
gloriously sunny afternoon
of
Walking Tacos
in fun little Doritos bags
and steaming bowls of chili
piled high with cheese.
When all was said and done
lots of uniformed hero's
had been served
and many lunches happily devoured.
It was an afternoon
of grateful smiles.

"Thank you, Ma'am"
"Thank you so much, Ma'am"
"Much appreciated, Ma'am."

(Marry me. Any one of you.
Right this minute!)

Long live 
good manners
that could make 
a one-room schoolhouse
teacher cry.

We served dozens
of men and women in uniform
all through the lovely afternoon.

(And those who look like almost-men, too.....
seriously....how old AM I??? Some of those
younger gentlemen looked like they
haven't started shaving yet under
the shadow of those
cammo helmets.
Can you enlist
in the Army
when
mom has to
drive you to base
because you're not old enough
for your grown-up license?)

It was a fun, fun day.
And the hungry ones
were just so darned appreciative.

Especially this one.


This is my lifelong
brother from another mother
and fellow student
who led our study team
through countless
grad school battles.
This soldier led my buddy 
and I through
class after class
and we always
emerged victorious.
Even though
every now and then
the enemy lurked
very near.
(Like standing next to the table
at Panera. Ohhhh...sorry. 
Private hahaha.)

Anyway.
I know I can always and forever
count on him
for anything
at a moment's notice
through thick and thin.

That's his beautiful wife
and holder of the home front
behind me.
Along with a very fun friend
I just met through our volunteer duty
on a gorgeous
autumn day. 


As the afternoon
wrapped up
and I headed for home
I found a little souvenir
lying in the gravel
by my car.

I guess if you're
spending the day with
Habitat for Humanity
it's pretty reasonable to assume
you might drop a nail or two.

If you're
working in a beauty salon
you might lose track of a bobby pin or two.

So yeah
I get it.


Oops. 


Monday, October 12, 2015

The Cherokee and Me



So there you are
in the middle
of no where
or maybe
fifteen miles further
down the road from it.

And the transmission
goes CLUNK
and your heart goes
DANG
and if you're lucky
you'll find a 
place to stop
where you can
buy a bag of peanuts
and a coffee.

Because you're going to spend
the rest of the night
tucked away in your cabin
wondering
how the heck
am I ever
going to get home.

And then along
comes a smile
and a hug
and a ride
back to
where you belong
and
just for a moment
you think everything
just might be ok.


Wednesday, October 07, 2015

Wonder Woman


And then there are the days
you think
you can do
just about anything.

Anything.

Like a superhero.
Run faster than a speeding bullet.
Throw down
with more power
than a locomotive.
Leap tall buildings.
In a single bound,

Even
replicate Red Lobster's
Cheddar Bay Biscuit recipe
with two scoops of Bisquick
an egg 
and a handful of 
grated cheese
leftover 
from 
football Friday's
pizza.



Anything.
They're superwoman days.
You're 
feelin' it
and 
dealin' it.



No matter 
what kind of day it is
my prayer
is this.

God
please just keep me real.
Not fake.
No pretending to be something I'm not.
Not smoothed over
pumped up
and ironed out.

Let the memories
of laughter
line up
around my
eyes
and years 
of grins and giggles
pucker the flesh around my mouth.

Let my light shine
from a place
deep within
and
bright enough
to make the path clear
for someone
who might be struggling
to see
where to place
their feet.

When it comes time
for someone to wonder
let them see
beyond a shadow
of any doubt at all.

Make it
clear to them.

She's not really a superhero.
Or an angel.
She is who she is.



Thursday, October 01, 2015

Magic Amazing Parking Lot Moments




Last night I pulled into the old bread store on my way home from work
An elderly man was standing in the middle of the parking lot, waving me past him as he stood with a couple grocery bags in his hands.


I smiled, waved back and as I got out of my car
walked over to thank him and just say hello.
He was very thin, wearing ragged pants, a heavy sweater
and a big grin as I walked up to him and smiled back.
He was chattering away ~ really animated ~ and I realized he wasn't speaking English.
I caught a word here and there
but between his accent and the language thing
I just kept grinning and saying nice, generic things like
....I see you're collecting pop cans
and isn't it a beautiful evening
clueless to what he was saying back.
I believe I understood the word "money" as he pointed to his pop cans
and I think he tried to show me he collected ball caps
because he had a couple of them in his other bag.
He just kept grinning and chattering and grinning and chattering
and odd as it may seem
I just got the idea he was thanking me
And really, the only thing I could think of that he might thank me for
was not running over him in the parking lot.

I just grinned, gave his hand a little squeeze and turned to walk into the store.
Right then, he grabbed my hand and looked up at me, grinned wayyyyyy big again
and he leaned over and he gave me a sweet little slow and very soft kiss on my cheek.


It about made me cry.
It was just so sweet and so honest and so spontaneous from such an open and generous heart.
I was hoping he understood as I hugged him and said
....ohhh thank you, that is so nice of you, thank you so much.

He looked at me like this shy little kid
this wrinkled old fellow with silver stubble all over his cheeks
and he took his hand and he pointed to his cheek.

He wanted me to kiss him on the cheek.
  I laughed out loud.
Thinking.
Are you kidding? I'm standing in the middle of this parking lot with someone I have never ever met
who just kissed me on the cheek and I have no idea if he's saying
 "Thank you, I'm going to follow you home and kill you" or what
and he gestures so sweetly and so gently, wanting me to kiss him on the cheek.

Well, of course, I did
I kissed him right on his scratchy little sun-wrinkled cheek
with its smattering of whiskers and if I do say so myself
he acted like I just made his day
I can't really be sure.
But I can tell you one thing.
He made mine.
I walked into the old bread store
bought my two cheap loaves
 and when I came out. He was gone.


Magic, amazing moments in this life.
They are just everywhere.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Never Too Careful

You can never
be too careful.


Even Satan quotes scripture.

Never Too Old

Nope.
Never too old to learn 
something new.

Like how to fuss around
with an IPhone
and it's amazing
photo and video capabilities.

video

Keep in mind
if you will
while I have hair of the
mouse variety
notsomuch grey
notsomuch blonde
just something
painfully
in between.
I'm old.
I'm just not quite
THIS old....


although
I find the outfit
in this Ansel Adams
to be 
slightly mysterious
and altogether
fetching.

Nope.
My first camera looked like this


with film
that looked like this


and you had to be 
really really careful
when rolling it
onto the spool
that you didn't pull it out too far
or you'd
expose it to the light
and ruin your
first couple
of pictures.

So.
For one
such a this gal
who fell in love
with photography
at the ripe old age
of seven-ish
in all it's
black and white glory
the marvelous glories
of her
complicated
exasperating
mystery 
of an IPhone
bespeaks 
of miracles, wonders
and prompts
awe
of the very highest order.

I'm still learning.
The video
is CH OP PI ER
than I had hoped
a little
frenetic
for my vision
and
somehow 
the clips got a wee
widdy-of-a-bit
out of order.

But whatever.
Ron Howard 
had to start somewhere too.

Slow down, Opie
I'm right behind ya, man.....




Saturday, September 26, 2015

It's Never Too Late

Children come in all sizes.
Some of them very cleverly disguised
as adults.

Sometimes it's because they have
stuff
to work out
leftover from their
childhood.

Other times
it's because
the excuse
of their sorry childhood
becomes a
habit
and pity
becomes 
a warm blanket
and really
isn't it just easier
to act like a kid
and blame it on someone
or something else
than looking it straight in the eye
and leaving it all behind
and sitting down
finally
at long, long last
at the
grown-up table.


Regardless of pain
or experience
or heartache
or unresolved
indignities
inflicted upon us
when we were young
the truth is
our inner children
have earned the right
and need to be tucked in to rest.

Our little
inner kid
needs the grown-up
to step up
and take over.

These little spirits of our deepest heart
have suffered
long enough.
We need to put our arms around them
assure them
we're grown-up now
and we're going to be okay
on our own
and let them
finally
finally
at very long last
lay down their weary little heads
and be cared for
instead of
forcing them to be
our caretakers.

Growing up is hard.
Especially
if you wait decades
to do it.

Growing up is hard.
But scripture tells us
it's what we are supposed to do.

Growing up is hard.
But no right thing God instructs us to do
is impossible.

We can continue to lie
to get what we want
play with toys that belong to other people
and sneak around
doing naughty things
as if Dad won't notice.

Or we can finally decide
we're ready to put our Cinderella nightie
in a drawer
and close it
for good. 



Thursday, September 24, 2015

March of the Moving


The march continues.
My garage-size storage unit
is nearly full.

Some of my stuff is still to arrive
but the mound
is daunting.

The first time I
threw open the door
I just stood there
and despaired
of ever
ever
EVER
having the energy
or the strength
to empty it.

I have to rally.
It isn't going to empty itself.

So I reflect
back on my childhood lessons.

Lest we forget....


....a robin feathering it's nest
has very little time to rest!

And.....
we ALL know.....

 ...just a spoonful of sugar
helps the medicine go down!!!

So.
I shut the garage door.
Went out.
And I got some ice cream.


A practice I highly recommend.
And while we're losing our mind
to a dairy-high
we find renewed strength
to ponder the tasks ahead.

All the appropriate motivational phrases
come to mind.


Said by a fellow of great influence
and literary note
but I'm not sure he ever
had to empty his own
storage unit.

Just saying.


This, of course is a given.
I'm sleeping on a mattress on the floor
with blankets as sheets
rolled up towels
as pillows
and flashlights
to keep me from tripping
as I walk through rooms.

Clearly
the today I locate my sheets
and pillows
and lamps
will improve my tomorrows
in a big, big way.


Oh Lord.
Honest?
That little
I think I can, I think I can
train
is rolling along the tracks of my
weary mind
but I'm really
not sure I can, not sure I can, not sure I can.


Best I can come up with
would be the $180 bucks 
I'm going to save
every month
when that storage unit
is empty.
That's a harvest.


And yet.
I get tired.
My car is only so big.
My legs are only so long.
And I am an old lady.
Confucius got old.
I think he probably
would have said
"Debbie, it's ok to stop.
And rest.
And maybe have a Bailey's on ice.
Because you're worth it."

I really think he would.


Ohhhh SHUT. UP. Sam. 


And indeed, this is true.
I learned it when I was a mail carrier 
lots of years ago.
I would come in off the country route
where I delivered mail to 500
of my closest friends and neighbors
along a 75-mile
mostly gravel
path
and I would crawl into bed
and cry
because I knew 
I had to do it all over again the next day.

But!
What I learned
is that a great nights sleep
is awesome medicine
and I'd awaken before the birds
to hit the ground running
and do it all over
again.

Thus
I know
I can do this.
I can do this, I can do this I can do this.


And eventually
all these crates
will be empty
and there will be light from a lamp
and a bed that is made
with pillows even
and I'll
finally
just maybe
feel like
I have a home.

One step in front of the other, girl.