Monthly Archives: February 2018

For Country School Children Perished in the Prairie Blizzard of ’52

For Country School Children Perished in the Prairie Blizzard of ’52

Cruel winds dispersed the swirling white
to cover up the prairie light.
They felt its cruel keening bite
clinging to them, clear and bright
as they, too, disappeared from sight.

By the time the storm had reached its height,
not one survived to tell her plight.
They found them on that snow-banked night—
arms raised aloft with hands held tight—
two sisters lost to nature’s might.

I had heard the story of the two little Judd girls who froze to death attempting to get home from their country school just North of my home town of Murdo, South Dakota, when a blizzard hit, but I had always thought it happened long before I was born.  In checking the facts, however, I discovered it was during the blizzard of ’52, when I was four years old—the same blizzard I’ve described twice on my blog. No electricity, my dad trying to get to his cattle to break the ice on their water tanks, all of use sleeping huddled around the fireplace in the living room, tunneling down main street to get into stores, stepping out of my second-story window onto a snowbank. My parents must have shielded me from the story of the two little girls—one three years older than I was, the other my sister’s  age—until I was older, although my sister Patti, who is four years older than me, has since told me she knew at the time and that she had played with the two little girls at the home of their cousins, who lived in town. Here their story is told briefly, in two five-line stanzas. The prompt from dVerse Poets was to write a five-line poem. So, I cheated a bit.

Costume

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Costume

I want to be an artist, a writer and a wife—
juggling all these masks with just a minimum of strife.
A lover, mother, daughter, cousin, sister-in-law, sister.
A friend to every woman and a temptress to each mister.
A master to my canine friends and slave to all my cats.
A pal to all my blogger friends, not just to swell my stats.
As well as to some Facebook friends and email friends and Skype.
(I no longer use snail mail—I’m simply not the type!)
So, if I were being truthful and I didn’t give a fig
about what others thought of me, I’d dress up like a pig.
Why the porcine costume? The tail curled in a ring?
Because in my life choices—I want everything!

The prompt today was costume.

Gerbera Daisy: Flower of the Day, Feb 15, 2018

 

 

For Cee’s Flower of the Day prompt.

Happy Valentines Day

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Nose to nose and tooth to tooth,
would you consider me uncouth
and think that I was out of line
asking to be your valentine?
Nothing wrong and nothing fishy
in saying that I find you dishy.
Scale to scale and fin to fin,
open your gills and let me in.

Heliconia, Flower of the Day, Feb 14, 2018

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For Cee’s Flower of the Day Challenge.

Debatable Edibles at the Pot Luck Dinner

 

click on photos to enlarge. jdb photos


Debatable Edibles at the Pot Luck Dinner

That dip indeed looks most delicious—
one of many lovely dishes
spread out here upon the table.
I’d eat them all if I were able,
yet, I admit I am suspicious
of this and several other dishes.

I fear that they may harbor fishes—
foodstuffs far outside my wishes
of consumable provender;
for fish of any size or gender,
no matter how incredible,
I’ve always found inedible.

Tuna, marlin, salmon, cod
are flavors that I find most odd.
Clams and lobster, oysters, shrimp—
brand me as a seafood wimp.
Anything with gill or fin
I do not choose to put within.

No horseradish or mayonnaise
can shield me from the pure malaise
that befalls me when I bite into
a canape I’ll later rue.
You cannot hide that fishy flavor
to turn it to a taste I’ll savor.

Many others  have met defeat
when trying to get me to eat
anything from sea or lake.
It’s a mistake I just won’t make.
So keep your ceviche and dips.
I’ll make do with potato chips.

The prompt today is suspicious.

It is also appropriate for Smorgasbord, which is the June 13, 2018, prompt for Ragtag Daily Prompt today.

Sunset, Feb 13, 2018

I said I wouldn’t, but I did. More sunsets. Plus a capture of a pleasant blog setup after the dinner guests have gone.  Nice to have some quiet time out on the deck with Annie. She didn’t cotton to it unless she was on my lap. Her first time out of the house since we got here. It was housecleaning/ sheet and towel washing day, so the porch was completely covered with washing in front. I thought it was good planning to have a dinner party because the housecleaner would have just been here, but forgot that linens would be hung out to dry. Oh well. Gave us privacy.

Click on photos to enlarge.

White Lily: Flower of the Day, Feb 13, 2018

 

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Good flowers make good neighbors.  Thanks, Daniel, for providing this one.

For Cee’s Flower Prompt.

Internet Infraction

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Internet Infraction: Bogged Down in Blog

The only way I’d ever stop
is flagged down by a cyber cop
who says my blogging cannot last
if I continue to go so fast.
He’d give a lecture and a ticket
and then he’d actually stick it
across my screen with strict instruction
to cease this method of destruction.

If life had meant us to go on line
hour after hour––eight or nine
hours or more day after day,
with always one more thing to say,
why would it give us legs to go
and feet to walk on, heel to toe?

Day after day, it’s grown obscene––
my eyes plastered upon my screen,
my fingers stiff with my attention
over what I might next mention––
fingers drumming, tapping, bending
all the while sending sending––
typing out, first fast then slow
my life as a reality show.

Until I wonder if I log
its details daily on my blog
because I want to recall life––
its joys and sorrows, pleasures, strife––
or do I only move about
to give  something to write about???

My friends all say this can’t go on.
I’m growing flaccid, weak and wan.
I need some exercise and sun––
some movies, dancing or other fun
aside from snapping pictures of
each bougainvillea or mourning dove.

Life’s meant to live, not to record.
It should be shouted, screamed or roared––
not typed out softly on the keys
of a laptop spread out on my knees!
The truth of this I’ve clearly seen
now that this sticker obscures my screen.
“Do not remove” it clearly reads,
“Go live your life! Go do some deeds!”

I’ll put on sneakers. Do some laps.
I’ll exercise ‘til I collapse,
then do more laps around the pool
‘til I’m an exercising fool.
I’ll call twelve friends up on the phone.
I’ll never ever be alone.
I’ll live my life until its end
without a single blogging friend!

My dedication will never lapse;
and yet, how temptingly it gaps—
that sticker, unstuck at its edge
so easy now to pick and wedge
my fingernail beneath and tug,
to drop its shreds upon the rug
and free my screen of its obstruction––
this taboo not of my construction.

To push the button, light up the screen––
to see its colors from red to green.
Black words on white, Cee’s daily flower––
no longer do I pine and cower.
I peck the keys, upload some pics––
once more getting my daily fix.
The truth of modern life leaks in.
To blog is not a major sin!
I’ll give up blogging, become a rover
precisely when Hell freezes over!!!

 

Another reblog from three years ago, when with firmest resolve I decided to cut down on blogging and get a life. So, how did that work for me? The prompt word today is lecture.

Sunset Serenade

I put my new guitar to good use by loaning it out.  These four strummed out the sun and to my great delight, their repertoire included “Snowin’ on Raton,” by Townes Van Zandt—my request as it is one of my all-time favorite songs.

The sunset was once again outstanding.  This time I made no alterations to any of the photos other than some slight sharpenings and a few croppings of the musicians.

This was a very good day, starting with meeting Patricia for coffee and to discuss possibly setting up a group home where friends could join us for support during our codger years, then home to write, a nap in the hammock, a few gin games with Tess, an hour swim and exercise in the ocean, chats with the sunset advisory board and convincing the musicians in the crowd to give us a few tunes. My harmony was working, as were my percussive additions via various objects rapped against other objects.

More talk with Patricia and Daniel concerning constructing a beach bar out of the thousands of cobalt Corralejo bottles Daniel has collected over the years thanks to the nightly sunset tequila consultations on the beach in front of his home/business. Plans are being made as I type this..or will be soon.  Patricia is in charge of nagging.

Following are way too many photos of the sunset and musical accompaniment.  If you see which I should cut, I will take it under advisement. I have already trimmed down to fewer than half of what I took.

 

You know you can enlarge these by clicking on them, right?