Mobile blogging....who knew??

From the book: Poems Of Today

HOUSEHOLD GODS

J.H. Macnair

The baby takes to her bed at night
A one-eyed rabbit that once was white;
A watch that came from a cracker, I think;
And a lidless inkpot that never held ink.
And the secret is locked in the tiny breast
Of why she loves these and leaves the rest.

And I give a loving glance as I go
To three brass pots on a shelf in a row;
To my grandfather's grandfather's loving-cup,
And a bandy-legged chair I once picked up.
And I can't, for the life of me, make you see
Why just these things are a part of me!


Poems Of Today
copyright 1924 Alice Cecilia Cooper

Digging

Digging into the past, whether you want to or not, becomes necessary sometimes. 
Like when you have to go through all the leftover papers and paid bills and grocery lists and receipts of someone else's life.
Like when they die.

It isn't intentional, that this mess is left, even when it is a neatly bundled, correctly filed, alphabetical order of 50 or so years of their life. All of their life. From the time they got married (and sometimes before) they bundle and wrap and file away all the bits, keeping them in order, then there is a catastrophe, like one of the two dies, and it becomes exceedingly anal, all the life insurance, every bit of correspondence, all of it.
Filed in boxed, shoved into Ziploc bags, bundled with rubber bands.
What do I do with bank statements and paid bills that are 20 years old. They can't help me now. Because the rest of the story....what the check was for, if it was a loan, if it got paid back, why the receipts were kept, the ink is faded, it is all a great big mystery.
Maybe the questions could be answered, but now the owner is no longer there, or has a debilitating disease, or has dementia, or.... a million other things.
The papers become nonsense.
Except.
That they have a story too.  A trail, a telling of the events in a life. The camping stickers, when the family went to Mackinac.  The warranty on the flute when the daughter was in high school.  The program from the play that the sister was in. The times, the memories, though unable to be embellished, those stories are there, and locked away, only in the memories of the players.
Do you remember when we.....
That's when Daddy did.....
Remember that time when she was rushed to the hospital for....

One great big remember party.  Without the guest of honor.

Spring

Spring.  Warm weather, new life, damp air and sunshine.  New, begin again, or just.... Begin. 
Snow is melting and the sun is out, the icicles are dripping and the crocus are pushing out.  So many things we want to do, why don't we just start, instead of waiting.
Spring...jump off, dive in, live life.....Be Brave.

Words, phrases, life.

This blog is awesome and uplifting for me.

all i did was listen

She has beautiful drawings, with meaningful insights.

Goodness Gracious

Oh my....people are just human....need to remember that. And remember that they can be inappropriate, rash, rude and just plain mean sometimes. 

What a way to end the week.  I had  a 'run in' with the local tax collector's office, wherein I discovered that knowledge of how to run a business, business practices or even common sense are not required to work for the government.  I suppose I always suspected, but do have high regard for some of the people that work there. 
But you would think that I, as a taxpayer, would at least be able to finish a sentence before I was interrupted while trying to explain something, or that the secretary to whom I handed the letter, would at least Read It, before she told me I was wrong. 
Oh my.  Well, I did gain some serious knowledge on who Not To Vote For..... Ever... In Any upcoming election. :)
Ah, democracy at work.

Sigh.....

My friend PF tells me that I am not responsible for other people's actions.  And I know that, I really do.  We are each responsible for ourselves.  Only. We can encourage, we can help, we can pray, we can love...but still, people will be who they are.  PF helps me see that I need to surround myself with people that do not cause me great distress, that do not pull the chains of guilt that bind my heart.
I can still love those people of course, and I can listen to them, but I need not take their problems into myself, and try to solve them.
I do not need, nor can I, make their issues greater than my own....because then I let myself become unimportant.  And God says I am important, and only I can have the perfect solution for my troubles.  My solutions won't fit them, and not only because they aren't me, but because, If a person doesn't have to put in any thought, any heart, any energy into finding and designing a solution, they won't implement it because it is 'too hard'. 
If they did the work themselves, and didn't have it handed to them, then maybe they could see that the solution to the problem is worth the effort. 
It's kind of like giving a 16 year old a new Mustang.....they want it so bad, it makes them so happy, but they won't value it, or take care of it, or even realize it's worth. 
Until they have to pay for it themselves.
Just sayin. :)