Dreams never really die, do they?

 My first memories of Christmas include waking up and running in to the dining room table where Santa had left our gifts.  There was the usual panties and socks.  And then a ball and an orange.  There was also some sort of candy; not much, but something.  Mostly we got a chocolate thing that was about an inch high and inside it was something made with powdered sugar and it was disgusting.  I can tell you this now since Mother is no longer with us, that this particular candy was gross!  The chocolate did not have a taste since it was mostly wax.  The powdered sugar filling was hard, but that was 70 years ago before all the preservatives came to make sure nothing dries out or loses what ever taste it had.  

Ah, but at the bottom of the pile was what I coveted most!  A brand new Big Chief Tablet.  It was red.  Always red, I think.  I think this is what it looked like back then.  Mother always included a pencil and I think she was killing 2 birds with one stone, so to speak.  The fact that we had to furnish our own books and tablets and pencils and such came into play at Christmas.  She had to buy them anyway, so might as well give Santa the credit.

What momma did not realize that a sheet of paper and a pencil with a sharp point was all I ever wanted out of life.  I wanted to write poetry.  That was my sole goal in life.  It would be followed later by the desire to write a book, which was followed by wanting to change the world.  Reality deemed that I would work and raise children.  Motherhood took precedence over my wants and desires, but it has been fulfilling and I am proud of all of my children today.  Granted none of them every made it into the highest office in the land, but I consider that one of my greatest blessings.  I digress.

Some where in my past lives poems and short stories that will never be found or read by another human, but I know.  I can not always voice my thoughts, but I can write them.  I do have a gift for that, and for that I thank God.  What the world does not know is that if I am sad, I write.  If I am happy I write.  If I am fired up for a cause whether it be gay rights, abortion, civil rights, women's rights, homelessness, or any of the myriad of things that cross my sight daily; I write.

But here is the deal.  When I write I share happy thoughts, and I hope I make you smile.  When I write I release the demons that tear at my soul, and I hope you understand that also.  Sometimes I just want to share a tiny glimmer of hope that has flitted across my radar.  For some people, a drink after work relieves the pressure.  Some people jog.  I write.

So here is the deal; I will keep writing if you will keep reading.  My blog has a counter so I know there are  several someone's out there reading what I write.  Feel free to leave a comment, good or bad.  That way I know I made a connection.  

In the meantime, I have youtube playing in the background and this song tears my heart right out of my body.  click herehttps://youtu.be/KZ-4LwfCClk

Gonna kiss another year goodbye!

 Thanksgiving is over.  Don't remember what, where, or if I ate, but I am sure I did.  For the most part 2020 sucked.  There was the covid most of the year which pretty well kept us all isolated.  Well, it kept those of us who believed that it was more than the flu off the streets and out of the stores and restaurants.  And then when I lost my dear Anthony to a disease that didn't exist, I pretty much gave up.  

I do want to thank the friends who knew and who cared for standing behind me and keeping me from falling.  And to those of you who did not know, it is best that way.  I never was one to air my laundry as mother used to say.  It is water under the bridge and you know how that goes!  When the water flows under the bridge, it is gone.  Never going to see that water again.  Off to the sea, or into a reservoir some where and flushed down the shitter.  Gone.

OMG!  Today is Saturday.  I thought it was Friday.  Good thing I looked at the calendar.  The worst thing about isolation is that I never know for sure what day it is.  I am going to Fowler to spend the night with a friend on Sunday.  I will spend the night because I do not want to drive home in the dark.  If Shirley was still alive, I could stop and see her, but she isn't.  But, I am supposed to make Tiramisu and I planned on making it on Saturday, but that was when I thought Saturday was tomorrow.

So that last paragraph  has nothing to do with anything.  It is just more of my ramblings that were leading to what is really in my little head this morning.  So, here we go.  I am going to make my list of New Years Eve resolutions sometime this week.  I know I am going to do this because every year I do.

I write them down on paper, because that makes them real and I may forget what they were.  Let me rephrase that: I WILL forget what they are.  I have yet to fulfill one of the lists, so I really do not know why I bother, but hope springs eternal in the human breast.  (I read that some where.) So here it comes:

1.  This one used to be "quit smoking", but one day I just got up and never smoked again.  I am not sure what year that even was.  Seems like it was in the Spring.  Cathy knows because she quit then also.  So I will change this one to  "Drink more water."

2.  Take a walk every day.  Well, maybe every other day.  Let's get real here: Take a walk when the sun is shining and it is between 75 and 85 degrees and Jiraiya is here to keep me company.  There.  That should do.

3.  Keep the house clean.  Change that one to: Make sure the front and back doors are clear of debris in case the house catches on fire from internal combustion from the grease on the stove from the healthy diet I never followed from the last New Years Day resolution list I made.

4.  Call my friends more often even though they depress me when they tell me what they have been doing while I was setting home feeling sorry for myself.

So, hell with this.  I am never going to change.  Life sucks so I might as well get used to it. I still have 5 days to make my list so expect a revision on this list.  For now, I am going to just hit the publish button up on top and probably go eat a cinnamon roll.  

Remember what momma told me; "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."  And I do have good intentions.

Momma and the elusive hummingbird.

When I moved to Colorado from Kansas way back in the early 1970's, I left my dear momma behind.  Well, to be honest, I left a lot of things behind, the least of which was a string of broken hearts and many friends.  Momma had the key to the house and the restaurant and I had a husband and a 1967 Chevy.  But I also had hopes and dreams. The husband did not last long and he took the Chevy when we parted ways.  The hopes and dreams would never die.  

To make a long story short, I touched lightly on husband #4 and  then moved on to a single life.  Life was good.  I had friends and I had to work 2 jobs to survive.  My momma back home missed me and I missed home.  So once a year I would travel back and in the spring or she would ride the train to  La Junta.  I would pick her up and bring her the last 50 miles.  Once she traveled with a lady we both knew.  That was not a good idea!  

My momma loved the hummingbirds that live in Colorado, but not in Kansas, or at least I never seen them down in Hutchinson which is very hot and muggy.  It soon became her quest to see as many of them as she could.  I loaded her into the car and we drove to Beulah.  It rained and the hummingbirds stayed hidden in the trees.

By this time I had married Kenny and we lived on the mesa.  Momma really liked that. I had a feeder hanging in front of the big window in the front room and I could spot the little fellows all day, but dear momma was not so lucky.  She liked to set in my rocker in front of the window and work crossword puzzles while she waited for the tiny birds to appear.  My office has always been on the upper level and I have a clear view of the window, so I was the look out.

A bird would come to the feeder and I would call out to her, but by the time she finished writing the word in the puzzle, the little feathered creature had flown away.  Then she would set staring at the empty perch waiting for the colorful little bird to come back.  After a few minutes of staring out the window at nothing, she would go back to her puzzle and wait till I spotted another one and we would repeat the whole scenario.

We set in the front yard under the Ash tree and waited.  Of course as we waited we talked and the birds did not like that so they stayed away.  Her trips were always planned around the start of summer before it got to hot for the little hummers.  We did travel to Beulah a time or two and parked to watch for them, but by this time her eye sight was not as clear as it used to be.  I did get a picture of two hummingbirds and mounted it for her, but that was never the same.

As momma got older we worried about her riding the train alone, so someone would bring her to me.  At this point of her life she was now into my cooking more so then the hummingbirds.  When she arrived, she would get out of the car and in her hand she had a list of food she wanted me to prepare.  

"They feed me that crap out of cans and I do not like it."  She would hand me her list and my work was cut out for me.  It read like this:

1.  Tomato soup.  Not canned tomato soup.  The kind you make with tomatoes where you mash and boil them and put soda to take out the acid.  And made with milk!  Not water.  And I like a grilled cheese sandwich with that.

2.  Liver and Onions.  Calf liver that is floured and browned in the skillet.  Saute the onions and then put the lid on with a little water and turn it on low and let it steam.

3.  Cinnamon Rolls.  Made with yeast and flour and let the dough raise then roll it out and lots of brown sugar and cinnamon.  And let them raise.  Not out of a can!

4.  Chicken and Noodles.  Boil the chicken and make good broth.  Homemade noodles made with egg and flour and cut on the counter.  Not those slick things that come in a cellophane bag.

There were other things she liked me to fix, but those were the staples that she had traveled 400 miles and all day to eat and by the gods above I better not screw up those four things!  And light on the salt!  High blood pressure.  "You can always put salt in, but you can not take salt out, so take it easy with that salt shaker."

Yes, momma! My sisters swore the frozen stuff or the canned stuff was as good or better than homemade, but momma wasn't buying that crock!

I miss my momma and that is a fact.  I used to have a big family, but sadly I am down to only one sister.  When momma was alive I always went home, but now it just isn't worth the effort.  Course I am not a spring chicken any more.  I like to go see my kids, but this past year, I have not done so.  The pandemic, you know.  I miss that.  I miss momma.

I often wonder if I will ever get old enough to not miss her.  Probably not.  I think my kids still miss me, but I am wondering if I showed up on their doorstep with my menu in my pocket, what the reception would be!  First thing is that since there are no hummingbirds in Kansas, I would have to watch the crows.  As I recall those damn things were as big as chickens.

So I guess I will just set here and miss momma and wish I was young again and she was planning a visit.  We have to love them while we have them, because that is how life is designed.  And I wonder, if I had it to do all over again if I would do it different.  I kind of doubt it, because momma had a saying for every occasion and another of her favorites was, "Try getting that toothpaste back in the tube."

So there you have it!  RIP my mother, you are sorely missed!

Giving myself an attitude adjustment here!

 It has been exactly one month since my life has been turned upside down and it is now time to take charge and do something about it.  The idyllic life of the last few years is gone.  I am alone.  I have been alone before and at my age I probably better get used to it.  I will start by deleting a phone number in my phone.  It will never ring again, so why keep it? 

I have ashes on my dresser waiting for Spring when they will be taken to the final resting place.  I take comfort in knowing that will happen.  We should all have a final resting place when our time comes and the time is here.  I can never forget this past month of my life, but I can remember the years before it all changed.

He was a wonderful man.  He was kind and caring and made me laugh.  He made me feel special, and that will never change.  The small dark place he harbored deep inside was one I could not reach and that will always make me a little sad.  Actually it makes me a lot sad, but it is what it is.  

We were in each others lives for a while and for a reason.  We had many talks about God and the hereafter and I think in my own simple way I brought him a peace he needed.  At least I hope so.  So, for now, I will put one foot in front of the other and keep going one day at a time.

And I will forever miss the soft brown of his beautiful eyes and the moon will come up and I will remember how much he loved the full moon.  I will continue to live, but I will never forget.

Rest In Peace, my dear, dear man.

Life is pretty much a crap shoot.

 Here I set like so many times before, waiting for the sun to come up.  And like so many times before, I am second guessing myself.  What did I miss?  Was there something said that I missed?  Any sign at all?  And after all the soul searching and all the self recriminations, it all comes back to nothing.  Could I have done anything to prevent what happened?  I told her no.  But is that true?

We tried so hard to stay safe.  We did not go to public places.  We wore a mask any time we were out of the truck or the house.  He contracted covid; I did not.  He quarantined in his house and I stayed in mine.  I took him groceries and left them on his porch.  We talked on the phone.  The conversations got shorter.  Staying home alone, day after day begins to wear on you.  People are gregarious by their very nature.  He was no different.

Mother always told me "You never really know anyone.  You only know what they tell you and let you see."  Momma was wiser than most people and had an inner wisdom that gave her an insight like no other.  She could see the good in everyone, even the orneriest old coot in town.  And she could also see the weakness and evil in the hypocrite beating his chest and pointing his finger.  She had the sweetest smile and her hazel eyes twinkled when she looked at me.  She actually made me think I was capable of anything.  But she was wrong.

I have always thought I was put here on this earth for a reason, but I am now questioning that.  If I was, what is the reason?  I have raised the kids.  I have fought the political battles and won a few, but what is that?  If not me, someone else would have carried the banner.  

Life goes on and I look back and just wonder what it was all about.  If I had life to do over, would I?  And if I did, would it change anything?  I think not.  I know I have got to come to terms with some things, but I am not sure I know where to start.    I can not stop the river from running to the sea.  I can not get the toothpaste back in the tube.

In hind sight, there is nothing I would change, because I still would not have known what someone else was thinking.  I can not know what thoughts someone is thinking if they do not say them out loud.  Am I at peace with this?  No.  Can I change anything? No.  Would I like to?  Yes.

All I can do, and the only advice I have at this point is to keep putting one foot in front of the other, keep hoping and praying for a better day.  I do not want to keep second guessing and I want to remember that I did the best I could with the tools and knowledge I had at the time and if that upsets anyone, so be it.

I think it would be how momma did it. I sure miss my momma and that will never change.

 

Sure am missing Nickerson, Kansas

 Merle Haggard says it best.  https://youtu.be/TuwhpVde6NY The roots of my raising sure do run deep.  Growing up in Nickerson, Kansas was definitely a challenge.  Like all small town there was a right side of town and a wrong side, but it this case it was the whole "outside of town."  We lived "outside of town" only 2 blocks from the high school when I was very small. That was the "wrong side of the tracks."  When I started second grade we moved clear across town out by the cemetery.  That was also the "wrong side of the tracks."  Either place was a place we could listen to that lonesome train whistle blow.

I learned early to love that sound.  It meant the train was going some where and I knew it was far away.  When the train whistle subsided in the distance, the coyotes howled.  Occasionally a wolf would howl.  Coyotes made more of a yipping sound, but wolves had a mournful howl.  It was like they were trying to call the moon from the sky above.  Either one scared hell out of us kids and we waited for the howling to subside before we could sleep.

But as poor as we were, we knew we were safe in our beds.  To my recollection, I never knew my dad to own a gun.  He was in the Army in World War 1.  He was what I thought was a big man, but in actuality he was only 5'8".  It was not an unusual height back in those days.  I do not know why, but I am assuming it had something to do with what they ate back then.  The emphasis in those days was not so much on vitamins and minerals as it was on survival.  A cow was easier to raise than a head of lettuce.  But all of that is irrelevant.

I remember the first time we got linoleum in our house.  My God!  You would have thought we had died and gone to heaven!  We could walk across the floor  barefooted and not get a "sliver".  Slivers were little pieces of the wood flooring and could only be removed by a pair of tweezers and a needle held in the hand of our dear mother.

Closing the house up at night entailed closing the front and back inside doors.  There were no locks.  There was usually a hook and eye on the screen door, but they were used to hold the door closed when the wind blew.  Bad people did not exist in Nickerson.  I recall once coming home from school and there was a dog walking on my street.  It scared me to death.  I actually climbed up on the icebox so the dog could not "eat me".  Nothing ever changed in Nickerson and that dog did not belong on my street.

Occasionally someone would pass away (We never referred to it as dying.) and the hearse would have to pass the end of our street on the way to the cemetery.  Nine chances out of 10, we knew the body that was being transported because Nickerson might have had a population of 1,000 people if everyone was gathered in one place.  Needless to say, we had to stand quietly with our hand over our heart until the hearse had passed.  This picture was taken from the cemetery side, thus the words are backwards.

For whatever reason I keep retreating to my childhood I know it was my safe place.  One would think that at this late stage in life I could accept who I am, but I don't.  I love to hard, trust too easily, and my biggest weakness is that I am ever the eternal optimist.  But I forget the most important thing momma told me:

"You never know anybody.  You only know OF them.  You know what they let you see."

Thanks, momma, now I remember.

Louie and Linda

 Good Morning world!  It is 5:25 AM as I start this.  Happy Birthday, Bret Mercer!  Today I actually felt a twinge of happiness as I crawled out of my little bed.  You all know the saying, "Where there is life, there is hope."  And if that were not enough to make me happy, Bret told me they have lifted the burn ban!  He did say to call to confirm that, but just knowing that I could possibly be able to burn my brush piles after a year of not being able to, pleases me.

Laying in my bed and enjoying the last moments before the day begins is my favorite time of day.  This morning my mind drifted back to before I married Kenneth.  At that time he was still married to his first wife and lived out east of town.  Charlie and I had just moved to Colorado from Kansas.  He had lived here before and wanted to return and start a business.  I was game for anything at that point and my kids were back and forth between Hutchinson and Lakin, Kansas, so Pueblo was my destiny.

To get back to the point, Kenny was friends with all his neighbors and Louie was an old bachelor that lived across the highway from Kenneth and Wanda.  He was an engineer on the railroad and ran the train through the canyon to somewhere in western Colorado every day.  He returned every night.

Now, Louie lived in a rather ramshackle house in the midst of his animals.  He raised pigs, goats, cows, and chickens.  Might have had a turkey in the lot.  His chicken house was 2 stories and Kenneth always found that fascinating.  The whys and wherefores of Louie is irrelevant, but his uniqueness was legendary.

I learned at some point from Kenneth that Louie had married a 29 year old woman.  What he told Kenneth was basically this;   "Yep took me a wife.  She is a big one, but when I took her to the court house for the license.  the man told me it costs the same to marry a big one as a little one and I wanted to get my money's worth."

Of course I wanted to meet her so I made arrangements to go for a visit.  When she opened the door, I knew why Louie had taken the plunge.  She was a big woman!  She was probably close to 6 feet tall and heavy, but not obese.  She was dressed in a moo moo.  It reached from her shoulders down to the floor and she seemed to float across the floor.  It was not the dress or her size that caught my eye, but rather what was peeking out under the hem of her garment!

She was barefooted and 2 tiny chickens were under her skirt.  As she walked across the floor they were apparently busy under there staying out of her way.  Linda was a very warm and caring person and I spent several afternoons at her kitchen table, just passing the time of day "oohing and aahing" over the tiny animals she cared for under her skirt.

Sadly, Linda did not live  past 30 and when she passed Louie had her cremated with the explanation that he could finally lift her!  He took her on his final run through the canyon and left instructions that the same ride would be the one he took when the time came.

Years have passed since those days and I am the only one still on the up side of the sod.  Life gets lonely here on my little acre, especially with the covid 19 pandemic.  I just thank God every day for the people in my life like Louie and Linda who have graced my doorstep and brightened my life in some small way.  It is my earnest prayer that someday I will be able to see all the unique friends I have met over the years.

That would sure make heaven a brighter place!