Category: Creative Writing

Saturday Morning Mists

We had a cold front come in with temperatures dipping into the mid to low thirties yesterday morning and this morning, setting so records. No thank you, I have had my fill of cold weather for a few months. This morning I took my camera on our morning walk to catch the mists coming off the water. The water is much warmer than the early morning air creating some really cool photo ops.

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This one is a great shot of a tree at the water’s edge off of a point and if you look closely right off the point a goose is standing just offshore in the shallow water.

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It gives an ethereal view of the early morning, almost like I was deep in the bayous of Louisiana.

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Poor lonely dock waiting for someone to come and sit a while.

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The sun just coming up to burn off the morning mists.

Photos taken with my Canon Rebel

Happy Mother’s Day

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and to all the mothers out there Happy Mother’s Day. But I don’t think that it is really any more special than any other day. Don’t get me wrong, I think that motherhood is the most wonderful experience in the world. But reserving just one day to thank someone who made you what you are seems a bit underwhelming. Of course in my case, maybe I should change it from Mother’s Day to “Thank God My Children Survived Day”.

Raising children to be self-sufficient, productive adults is a noble achievement and I think I did an okay job. Nobody went to prison and none of them is on the dole. So I did okay, I certainly was not a perfect mother. I lied to my children when the need arose, such as when they were little and wanted candy out of the gumball machines. I told them that the writing on the front of the machines said, “Out of Order”. I sounded so sad and sincere, that it worked every time until they learned to read.

I bullied and terrified them telling them that I was an apprentice working on my mastership to be the meanest mom in the world and I was very close to getting my degree. I told them that I had eyes in the back of my head and could hear a pin drop three blocks away, so they better watch what they said and did. I dealt out justice swiftly, I never once said, “Wait ‘til your father gets home.” I let them play and get scraped knees and elbows. I let them fall down and helped them get back up so that they could fall down again. I told them to rub some dirt on it and get back out there.

I taught them to never be cruel to animals and other children, but at the same time I told them to never back down from a fight. Stand tall, be honest and treat people the way you want to be treated and it will all work out in the end. I told them that the only job they had in this world was to go to school and get good grades. A’s and maybe a B, but nothing less and there better be a really good reason that there was a B. Then we would work on the problem class until we solved the problems. I expected excellence out of them, mediocre was not acceptable. There is nothing wrong with not succeeding, but there is no excuse for not trying, that is the true failure.

As they grew older and started thinking about life, careers and families of their own, I told them that I didn’t care what they did or how much money they made, but to make sure they chose to do something they really loved doing. Because whatever they decided on, they would be doing it for a long time and if they didn’t love it then they would be unhappy for a very long time. I taught them that family is important but not at the expense of self.

I did what I did as a mother not because I wanted accolades or to be their friend. I told them that often, “I am your mother, not your friend, you have enough friends. I am here to guide you, to teach you and to make you into a worthwhile human being. You don’t have to like it or me, but you will do what I say, because I am your mother.”

Cruel wasn’t I?

Poetry for Tuesday

A bit of poetry for your Tuesday.

The Sentinel

On a hilltop overlooking a small village
Stands a sentinel ever watchful
Never moving always on guard
Protecting all below.

His gaze never wavering
Looking over the horizon
Stoically waiting for the need
To unleash his power over the realm.

Though he is made of plaster and wood
His mere presence gives comfort and courage
To the villagers below
Having faith in the belief that the Sentinel will stand for them.

Ladder 1 – Susan 0

Now that spring is here with warmer weather, our long overdue “do to” list is underway. You know the usual stuff, raking the mountains dead leaves that have wintered in every nook and cranny around the house, getting the gardens ready for tomatoes, peppers and this year potatoes. Another item on our “to do” list is to stain the outside window trim. The trim has been looking especially shabby and weathered, so I decided to go with a darker stain around the windows for be a fresh new look. New stain meant a trip to the home improvement store and shopping for the perfect color, one of my favorite things to do and one that makes Mitch crazy. As I was perusing the colors trying to decide which one would be the right choice, Mitch stood there looking like he’d just passed a kidney stone.

I wasn’t sure how much we would need, so just to be on the safe side I bought four gallons. We have twenty three windows of which six require an extension ladder to be used to get to; the rest can be done with just a six foot stepladder. I am not fond of heights; in fact one could say I am almost terrified of heights. The height is not the real fear it’s the fear of falling off the ladder that is the scariest part of climbing a ladder. I started with the easiest windows first leaving hardest for last. Climbing up the step ladder, reaching what I could, repositioning the ladder and repeating the process went very well for the back side of the house. I moved around to the kitchen side of the house and kept up the momentum of the morning, everything going very well, too well I should have known.

I had just finished staining the trim around the kitchen door and carried the can of stain, paintbrush and the hand broom I used to whisk away spider webs around to the front of the house. I came back, grabbed the stepladder, closed it for easier carrying and stepped off of the porch to carry the stepladder down the hill and around to the front of the house. I’m not sure what exactly happened, but the next thing I remember was taking a header off the porch and doing a somersault across the yard with the ladder. I sat up looked at my right arm which had a big chunk of flesh gone and was bleeding. The right leg of my jeans was ripped and my shin had a two inch long scrape down it. It didn’t take very long for the bruises to show up, they formed quite quickly in fact. There are three dark ones on my forearm and a really spectacular six inch bruise on my shin. I thought that the most dangerous part would be climbing up eighteen feet or so on the extension ladder and leaning out to reach as far as I could to stain the trim on the front of the house. I had no idea just carrying the stepladder would be my downfall.

Mitch has dubbed me “Dances with Ladders”.

Ready or Not Spring Has Sprung

The dogs and I went for a short walk and found some signs that Spring is finally here.

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Orso enjoying lounging in the sun

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Charlie likes the playground equipment too

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We found a goose setting on a nest

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We found another nest sans Mom

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Then Mom showed up to let me know not to come too close.

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We even found a turtle sunning himself

Photos taken with my Canon Rebel

The House Nobody Loves

There is a house in our little burg that is unloved and forgotten. No one lives there anymore. I imagine that at one time it was filled with laughter and people coming and going. Today it sits vacant with tree limbs lying on the roof and seedlings have sprouted in the gutters. The weeds growing on the roof are healthier than the ones in my yard. How weeds can grow on an asphalt shingle roof is beyond me, I have places in our yard that weeds won’t even grow. A giant tree has fallen over and lies across the ground. To call it rundown and shabby is an understatement. The roof is sagging in spots giving it a rippled look. Every day when I drive by the house, I am surprised that it still stands.

There is a padlock on the front door, I assume to keep people out, but surprisingly enough there is an open window on the side of the house that has been open for a year now, through the summer and winter last year. I can only imagine what creatures have made it their home seeking refuge from the cold and snow over the past winter. It’s probably pretty cozy for squirrels and raccoons dry and out of the wind. I don’t think I want to go in and find out who or what has taken up residence. I’m not that brave.

The house reminds me of a series on cable a few years ago about what the earth would look like if the entire human race was gone and how Mother Nature reclaims her world bit by bit. When it starts getting warm again and everything is greening up and growing, the house may become totally overgrown with vines. It is truly a very sad portrait of our society that we create something live in it then cast it aside without a care. I’ve never been in the house, but I think that had someone still loved the house and cared for it, then the house would not have gotten to this state.

There is a story that the owner found his true love and moved to a warmer climate, or perhaps the house is haunted and the ghosts of the long ago past haunted the house forcing the man to flee afraid to go back in the house. The fact that the house still stands after such a long time of vacancy helps to fuel the haunted thoughts of a creative mind. Besides I would rather believe the house is haunted than the boring truth that it is just unloved.

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What do you think, is the house haunted or just unloved?

Another Play Day and Everyone Survived

We had another play day with Eddie and bonus everyone survived.

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Eddie waiting as patiently as a puppy can

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See how handsome I am

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Eddie encouraging Orso to play

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Eddie and Orso

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I have the drop

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Orso giving Eddie the look

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I’m a tired puppy

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This is the best tasting water ever

Sleeping Dogs

Have you ever watched your dog sleep? The way they curl up in a tight ball tucking their nose under their hind leg and wrapping their tail on top of that to ward off the chill. Or when they get too hot and roll over on their back and splay their back legs out to cool off. You can tell a lot about a dog’s life just by watching the way they sleep.

A dog that has been abused or abandoned sleeps very lightly sometimes laying on their stomachs front legs bent jutting out between their head and rear legs tucked under ready to leap up for fight or flight. It takes a long time for a dog that has had a rough life to relax and begin to trust that danger is not waiting just around the corner.

Our dogs, Charlie and Orso, are the poster dogs for living the good life. We got Charlie at the young age of ten weeks and has never know anything but pamperhood. We rescued Orso at nine months from a young man that couldn’t keep him any longer. Charlie is now nine years old and Orso is seven and a half years old so I have had lots of time viewing their sleeping habits.

Charlie snores, and very loudly for a seventy pound dog, louder than Mitch sometimes. Orso breathes heavy, sometimes he works up a snore but nothing like Charlie. Charlie sleeps so deeply his eyes are closed tight and lays stretched out taking up as much real estate as his little body can. He juts out his legs straight away from his body and at times they are limp and relaxed and other times his legs are stiff as boards, earning him the nickname “Rigor” for rigor mortis. Which is especially fun at night when he is sleeping next to you pushing against you with those stiff legs. Yes we are those weak people that let their dogs sleep with us. We lost that battle years ago.

Orso at one hundred pounds takes up a bit space when he stretches out and gets even heavier when he lays his head on your legs sound asleep. You will not easily escape the dead weight of a dog that is so sound asleep. His eyes roll up in the back of his head when he is sound asleep. He looks like a big brown speed bump when he stretches out to his full fifty-three inch long tip of his nose to the end of tail body.

Both dogs dream and it is a hoot to watch them deep in throes of R.E.M. Charlie’s eyes roll back and forth under his eyelids. Sometimes he squeaks and sometimes he growls, I guess it depends on what he’s dreaming about and who he’s chasing. It usually starts at his front legs with a slight twitch, then growing stronger adding his back legs, then his legs run at break neck speed chasing whatever it is he is after.

Orso does it a bit differently from Charlie, his back legs jerk first, not a mere twitch, oh no, a full on jerk and you don’t want to be anywhere close when he start jerking those legs, he has left marks. Then he moves up to his front legs and then in concert Orso’s legs run in tandem after the unseen target. His eyes roll back and forth and his lips twitch sometimes working up a growl or moan.

I’m telling you watching a dog sleep is better than the reality TV shows on cable.

I Expected Nothing Less

Yesterday was a very busy full day. There was the normal Saturday grocery store excursion and walking in the dogs, plus it was also my birthday, so I had a few extra planned outings. A friend and I got manicures and lunch, margaritas included, then a birthday party for my three year old granddaughter and dinner out afterward. A very full fun day, except for one little thing, Orso.

All day long Orso was just lying around doing his usual dog thing, eating, sleeping and more eating. Orso was lulling us into that false sense of security where we believed that when we left giving each a rawhide chew, both would be happy and content until we came home. Not! We weren’t even gone that long, only four hours. Of course it was all my fault.

As we pulled back into the driveway, the dogs were at one of the windows barking away, glad to see us. I walked into the house to let the dogs out while Mitch put the car in the garage. The first thing that greeted me was the can of lunch size soup on the dining room floor. Unopened, but it had definite teeth marks in the plastic lid. I continued on into the kitchen and saw some large white flecks on the floor. Closer inspection revealed they were crushed eggshells I was saving for the garden. Must not have been too tasty. The bag on the counter that held the ten cans of soup I planned on taking to work was missing two cans and I had only found one so far. I turned and noticed that the butter I left on the counter height kitchen table was missing in action also.

The reason we bought the counter height table was to keep the dogs from reaching the table top and liberating any contents residing on said table. Evidently we were wrong again! Now I was on a hunt for one more can of soup and a butter container. I found the soup can in the living room with lots of teeth marks. Orso must have really wanted to try the chicken noodle soup. There were indentations in the metal lid but didn’t quite get through it, lucky me. Found the can of soup now in search of a half full container of butter. I found the empty container of butter and its lid lying inches away on the bolster bed. Orso carried it in to enjoy in a more comfortable setting. The container had multiple teeth marks punched through the plastic and the inside had been licked so clean there was nothing to wash out for the recycle bin.

A half pound of butter, mind you not margarine, oh no, it was real dairy butter that he consumed in a matter of minutes, meaning he’ll probably be very poopy for a few days. Some dogs might get sick after consuming a half pound of butter, but not Orso, he’ll breeze right through this and go on like nothing had happened. Because Orso is a lab, I am not worried a bit. Labs are built different, land sharks that eat anything that doesn’t eat them first and nothing seems to bother them. I know this from experience, first with Buddy our yellow lab, then with AJ our black lab, whole consumed thirty chocolate candy bars and the wrappers at one sitting and never even burped.

Why am I blaming it all on Orso, because in nine years Charlie has never initiated any counter surfing, no he waits and lets someone else do the dirty work and then enjoys the buffet too. Orso is a lab through and through, his stomach is his number one concern. I think it talks to him all day, “Feed me, feed me”.

What a fitting end to an otherwise great day.

Photo Shoot

Here are some photos from a play day with a new friend, Eddy, and because I’m not feeling very creative.

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Eddy and Orso face to face

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Orso

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Eddy checking out Orso’s pearly whites

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Charlie looking happy

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Who wants to play stick – come on let’s play stick

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Eddy and Orso winding down

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Two tired puppies

Photos taken with my Canon Rebel