Wednesday, October 27, 2010

F is for Family Secrets




Today F is for Family Secrets. I'm proud to introduce to you a new author. My Best, Cee Hunter, has just published her first book, Family Secrets. It's now available on Amazon.com. I loved this tale of a young girl's coming of age set in Central Louisiana. Reading it, you really get a feel for the culture and the family dynamics of this region of our country. It has suspense, rich heritage, and exposes some of the dangers of keeping dark secrets families don't talk about.


This is Jenny's Alphabe-Thursday. Link up if you like.



Tuesday, October 26, 2010

For Teddy

It's always been my contention
That a dog should be
big enough,
that if I accidentally
step on her
(and yes, I've always thought
my dog should be a her)
I would do
no lasting harm
And I've stuck with
that formula
until now

I've had
a lab/beagle
a white lab/mystery
a beagle/lab/whippet
(the best guess offered)
and lost them all

That left me,
melancholy
unwilling
to let a soft, furry friend
steal into my heart
yet again.

But Teddy, you did
Your the first boy dog
who stole my heart
You were so unique
(He could catch veggies,
thrown over my shoulder,
while making salad
And liked them)
He was my shadow
faithfully following me
even at the end,
when it was mostly
three, and sometimes
two legs,
which carried him
And silly dog,
he wouldn't go
outside
at all
unless I
was the one who
opened that door

But he wasn't my dog,
he was on loan
I had the complete
privilege
to care for him
as his life waned,
and his “person”
traveled
her own 
painful journey

Then yesterday
the day arrived
when in love
in compassion
in gratitude
we let you go
with lots of petting
and lots of love,
and whispered words
Good-bye, my
Teddy Bear.
Thanks
and
good-bye.

It's One Shot Wednesday.  Write a poem, and link up.  That simple!

P.S There's a new dog in my life, also on loan.  A tiny, 7 pound Yorkie.  Perhaps it's time to expand my horizons and try a new formula.  Just hope I don't step on him...

Friday, October 22, 2010

Two Hearts


Friendship is
when hearts
connect

We've known each other
years, been
each other's pantry
emergency assistance
childcare traders

We've chatted away
an hour...or more
until kids interrupted
just because
we got our mail
at the same time

But now, when
you handed me
the hurts of your heart
to share the burden
we are friends.


It's Flash Friday 55 again.  Go tell g-man, and put your link in his comments (one of these days he's going to give in and use Mr. Linky...) if you want to play!

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Seeing

I think 
I'm getting old
It's not just
reading glasses
Or aches and pains
But finally seeing
what we've become.
A world of selfish people
hellbent, 
on getting
our own way
despite the cost
to ourselves,
and certainly to others.
We care not
that others are trampled
in this race.
We just want
what we want
when we want
because
we deserve it.

When I was young,
I thought like a child,
reasoned like a child
But now,
I'm old
and I see.
And what I see is
not what I'd thought.
We'd turn out to be.


It's One-Shot Wednesday.  Write a poem and link up!

Friday, October 15, 2010

Flash Friday 55: Resurrected

I'm startled to find them,
right where I left them
those hard-earned skills
long hidden, under deep cover
unused, unneeded
Cautiously I pull the first one out
(though rusty-crusty,
and faint
from its long dormancy)
it's still useable
Not just for its
intended purpose,
but also
to make me
feel like ME.
Useful.
Once again.

This is Flash Friday 55. If you can write a poem or story in exactly 55 words, go tell g-man and place your link in his comments.

P.S I have a degree in math, and just started tutoring a new client this week. AP calculus. I'm having a blast! The math nerd resurrected! Does wonders for your (recently lacking) self esteem.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

D is for Donuts, Again

As a mother, a reluctant homeschooling mother, a volunteer teacher, and tutor...and wife, and friend...yeah, not finding so much time to be Tina the Writer. I wrote this post earlier this spring when I was playing catch-up after joining round 1 of Alphabe-Thursday at the letter K. I thought I'd throw it up here again since there were only a handful of takers last time. Yes, shamelessly looking for feedback. Writers are like that...So here you go...D is for Donuts, Take 2. (Not really, didn't even have time to re-edit it.)

It was a big change going from gymnastics coach to donuts, but I'm a firm believer that to graduate from high school, you gotta serve time in food service. There are so many good life lessons to be learned. I learned mine at Winchell's.

First there's the lesson of humility and having a servant's heart. Once you've been behind that counter having to politely wait on all manner of people, from the nicest little blue haired grandma to the drunken, slobbering, reach-over-the counter-and-grab-your-D-cups fool, you'll have more patience and compassion for the pimply, shy boy who forgets your french-fries.

Respect for authority. Regardless of the idiocy of said authority. My boss was a stoner who somehow missed the memo that we were no longer in the 60s. He used to go into the men's room to smoke his marijuana. For long periods. Customers would want to use the ONE restroom. And couldn't. I'd apologize. “It's out of order, I'm so sorry.” I'd finally had enough and confronted him. Casually. “Jerry, someone's been smoking marijuana in our restroom, and I think we should alert the police.” This brought his eyes UP from where they usually rested during our conversations. (Finally!) His reply, “But we don't know which customer it is!” Too which I calmly replied, “Oh, but I do.” And stared him down. I guess he had some functioning braincells left because he didn't do it again. He just came to work already stoned. SIGH.

Hard work. Do a good job at whatever job you find yourself. It just makes it more pleasant for everyone. It wasn't long before Jerry had me working the oh-dark-hundred morning shift. “You're so fast, I need my best girl in the morning.” If you want to get on my good side, making me get up at 5 am is NOT how to do it, buddy. But I'll say this, time does go by a lot faster when you're on your toes for a morning rush than it does in the afternoons when all you're doing is cleaning up the grease in the back room and making frosting for tomorrow. And you don't have to mop in the mornings.

Customer service. People appreciate extra attention and the personal touch. These days a lot of us make regular stops at coffee shops for lattes and such. Back in the 80s when I was schlepping donuts, people made regular stops for our coffee. It was good coffee, and being a coffee snob, I always made sure we had fresh pots, and I did memorize which regular had which size and what they took in it. And since I couldn't help but also know what car they drove (my dad worked for a car company, I'm always looking at cars) I'd have their order ready when they hit the counter. They liked that. Ok, there was that one time that I spilled LargeCoffeeBlack's order all over the counter...but that was when my apron got stuck in the cash register...which is a whole post by itself.

So if there's ever a petition going around adding fast food to graduation requirements, I'll be signing it. But apparently I didn't learn my lessons well enough at Winchell's, because I had a few more hard ones to learn at Wendy's. In costume.

This is Alphabe-Thursday, the letter D over at Jenny's.  Come on over and link up!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

One Shot: Laughing Gravity

He asked me,
why poetry?
I laughed metaphor,
while he answered,
with the sureness of gravity.
I tried word portrait
and he said there's only reality.
Then I smiled, because yes,
reality
but through half-closed eyes
with wishing
and the benefit of the doubt.
He said no, black&white
never changing.
I disagreed, but with
dancing words,
spinning circles of possibility
around his to-do list
and all over his meticulous
calculations.
That's when he smiled,
and took my hand,
and we walked in the rain,
giggling
because who knew that
head in the clouds
and feet on the ground
would make such a
perfect union.

It's time for One-Shot Wednesday. Write a poem, and link it up!

Friday, October 8, 2010

Flash Friday 55: Grieving

I'm lost.
How do I comfort you
in your grief, when
I believe in
purpose
and
all things work together for good
(even when they're bad)
That's no comfort
to you, who doesn't share
this faith, this
stronghold
which helps me make sense
of such senseless waste
when someone so important
to you is gone.

It's Flash Friday 55.  Go see g-man if you have a contribution and leave your link in his comments.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

For Carly

I will remember you, Carly. You will not be forgotten. Your (short) life meant something.

On one of the most scenic roads in my relatively small town, your memorial still stands. As I drive past your cross and flowers, I remember how you died. The newspaper article was heartbreaking. Your mother, trying to protect you, would pick you up from school, half a mile away. But you wanted to walk home. You surely knew the way at age 13, just starting to blossom with independence. At last, she relented. It was your very first time walking home. You and your friends were laughing and joking as you crossed at the designated place. The park was behind you, the median with it's canal and trees ahead of you. You were lagging a bit behind, probably laughing, when the van came out of nowhere and mowed you down. 68 in a 35 mph zone. You didn't stand a chance.

Oh how our town grieved. The senseless tragedy, and the horror of having a mother's worst fear confirmed just as she'd started to loosen the reigns just a bit. And we cried for the young driver, with the new license, who promptly went home and shot himself. For years, we had those portable “Your speed is” contraptions set up at your intersection. And then time went by. The road was repaved. Re-striped. Speed limit lowered.  Yet still today, many drive by much too quickly.   


Carly, I remember you, and I slow down and say a prayer and gaze in sorrow at the spot which to this day, 17 years later, tells your story. And I grieve. Your life was short, but it was not wasted. You will remain in our town's hearts, and I hope that others might slow down a bit when they pass by this reminder.

This is round two of Alphabe-Thursday.  I know, I've missed the last two weeks.  But it's good to be back today.  Check out some other great posts featuring the letter C over at Jenny Matlock's "off on my tangent".

Sunday, October 3, 2010

October, At Last

Bushes burn,
their
blood red robes
declaring autumn
to the maple,
who answers with
a red of her own,
not fiery, yet
fiercely fine
in deeper hue.
Her leaves flutter
as that cooler breeze
blows the scattering remnants
in a bold ballet, while
the afternoon light
grows more intensely gold
and the shorter days
whisper of winter
still to come

But for now,
the play has begun
and the intricate dance
between autumn's
exclamations
and winter's pause
beckons me outside
to wander in wonder
at the dazzling display
Creation sings with joy
each colored voice
declaring His Majesty


It's One Shot Wednesday.  Check out some new writers!  These poets are amazing.  


While checking out this week's Magpie, I realized this would fit here as well.  So in the spirit of I've had no time to write, I'm double linking this post.  Magpie has a variety of artists, some poets, some fiction writers, some photographers.  Isn't it fun to meet new people?  If you want to join us, just use the picture above as your prompt, then get creative.