" Leave Me Alone"

the gate will be closed
the lights off
the door locked
the shades drawn
the computer off
the dog asleep
the cats silent
dead phone batteries
the wind is quiet
the woods is still
the sky is rumbling
tattered and tumbling
aliens are coming
fumbling and stumbling
my world in crumbling
topping for my salad
of starts and finishes
let the aliens dimise
who was wise
lost in my cries and tone
life in a cone stone
left by a drone
leave me alone

"A White Flower in the Dark"

I am the tiny white flower
in the black endless darkness
framed by the bright white light
will I make a difference
to anything
may I be presumptuous
and say that I matter
I am matter
how can I not matter
as a matter of fact
there are those who matter
like the tiny bright white stars
matter to the dark night sky
holding on to each other
because they need to be needed
by this tiny white flower
in the black endless darkness
of her white frame

"What do you know"

the wind whispers
where are you going
what do you want

have you found
a single answer
for sure

your search is still

those about you
wander without rhyme
in the stillness of time

the silent seeds
buried deep
begin their growth

far from wandering eyes
revealing all
we need to know

"Pumpkin Sunrise"

the last days of 2008
it's a cold pumpkin sunrise
the blackness of the woods
lingers in the orange light
we hold our hot cup of espresso
close to feel the warmth
as we merge with the first rays
of a new day on the cabin porch
another year has gone by
we will see 71 soon
our mind scanning the years
we wander in a cloudless sky
perpetuated by the storms
that created our journey
dancing to the weathered song
beside the chance of circumstance
a leaf in the wind falling floating
finding the shore resting at last
where we happily stay inside the pumpkin
and watch the sunrise

"A Christmas Wish"

Goodness is rare someone does care
Larry and Charlotte have given
to many beyond compare
big or small it matters not
their gifts are not measured
just treasured care and time
waves of blessings floating away
into space continuing to spread
their message over the world
making it a better place
a never ending journey
goodness never dies
Jesus lives in their hearts
His message strong directs them
His footsteps they follow
from Him they saw how to live
a Christmas wish for you
continued good health and peace
as we celebrate the greatest giver
may His blessings hold you
safely in His grace
God bless you and your family

"Baby Jesus"

follow the star
come all ye faithful
joy to the world on high
a savior is born
in a manger in a small town
called Bethlehem
angels were watching over them
shepherds and kings came
He will change the world
and be known to all
still still still
a baby is born
He will live to show us how
He will die to save us
His name is Jesus

"Feliz Navidad"

decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
it's beginning to look alot like Christmas
better watch out Santa Claus is coming to town
Rudolph the red-nosed raindeer will be leading the way
button up your overcoat baby it's cold outside
all I want for Christmas
is an electric rock and roll guitar
we will rock around the Christmas tree
and try not to have a blue Christmas
with out you the most wonderful time of the year
let it snow let it snow let it snow
so Frosty can come home for the holidays
through the foggy air with the most
famous raindeer of all
the candle is in the window
I'll be home sweet home for a holly jolly Christmas
because we need alittle Christmas
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas as
the little drummer boy calls us
from Christmas island where dreams come true
I wish everyday was like Christmas
although its been said many times many ways
Merry Christmas to You
Feliz Navidad

"Texas Snow 2008"

the texas snow
came quietly in the dim light
it was 81 degrees at noon
and snowing at midnight
the changes came fast
with a cold blast
at 3am Gypsy and I
went out to see
a picture to be
snow on the metal roof
gave us proof
its beauty is quiet
and we did try it
our hand cold as a snowball
flew and did fall
this snow was not done
for Houston it was fun
childrens angels under the sun
a rare visit from a lovely guest
showing us its best
dripping icicles melting quietly
white moonlight on white flakes
tracts in the morning snow
in its white magical glow
what a show

"Husband Goodby""

the spin of the dial
a life with trial
sadness and grief
then relief
fixing suffering and pain
was your aim
you served him well
as all could tell
then the farewell bell
tolling the end
of times you did spend
sorry to hear he had died
how hard he tried
God Bless you Jeanne McKay
you made bright each day
remember the good
with God in life
with God in death
winning in all ways
husband goodby
for you we cry

"A Poem a Poet"

a poem a poet
writers of trance
framed to show it
in their own stance

thinking in lines
short from the start
words of all kinds
horse before cart

poems spew
oozing and gushing
words that are new
with no rushing

come what may
all poets know
to write each day
lines in a row

chitter and chatter
is what we do
it does not matter
when we are threw

write just one more
on this day
don't keep score
all you can say

tickle your fancy
be daring today
write something chancy
throw caution away

poets are artists
painting words in ryhme
hanging their discs
on the hands of time

"Lonely City Christmas"

it's christmas in the cities
dusk finds them as the lamplighters come
leaving the gaslights flickering
on these lonely people caught by nets
with no way out their loneliness floating
in a river of tears finding its way to
unfulfilled hopes and dreams
photographed by the flash of empty tv screens
alone with their quiet doubts
am I enough or do I need to surf the net
to find more to fill my hourglass as the sand
falls spinning around the satelite
that sends the world to me
and Judy Garland sings telling you
to have yourself a merry little Christmas now
and next year your troubles will be far away
a twitching cat sleeps dreaming of a life it never had
Bing Crosby sings I'll be home for Christmas
if only in my dreams
slowly silently their loneliness is absorbed by
their fathers old cloth handkerchief
they are the old metal rollerskates
the key screwed tight to their spaulding saddle shoes
if they fall they will skin their knees
they cannot see the bottom of the hill
but will start down it anyway
a childs childhood caught in rerun memories
tinsel still on the christmas tree as the needles fall
catching them as they hear the cities call
merry christmas to all

"Flash Gordon"

for some reason the other day
while thinking about things on the porch
my mind started returning to the past
I decided to try to remember the very first
thing I could really remember
being seventy years old
it is difficult to find the beginning
I searched the pictures in my mind
and as far back as I could remember
was Flash Gordon my first space guy
now, you might ask how is this
and I would have to tell you
that back when the first tvs came out
probably somewhere in the late forties
my dad, who was a Chrysler dealer
made a deal which included one
it was a big day when my family
found out we were to get a tv
we gathered around the day it arrived
a big console, a three speed record player,
we had no records
an am-fm radio and a pretty big black and white
tv screen flat on the top and rounded on the sides
the two doors that covered the front
had two lion heads with brass
rings through their noses
I was impressed beyond belief
I suppose we had an antenna on the house
I don't remember that but after it was hooked up
and the big moment arrived
my dad turned it on and who should appear
but Flash Gordon in his spandex space like jump suit
with a belt that looked like a wrestlers champion belt
his space ships looked like the drainage pipes
they use to move water under the roads
with a top on them that looked like the tin hat
the tin man wore in the Wizard of Oz
to me it was an amazing miracle, a moving pictue
in our living room for the first time
I was spellbound knowing now because
my mind moves in pictures
like when you pull the handle down on a slot machine
the other thing I remember is the rug my mom
had in our living room which did not cover
the entire surface of the floor
it had a big butterfly on each corner
I thought it was beautiful
it held our brown horsehair sofa and chair
my sisters and I grew up here in the two bedroom
house with one bathroom with a tub no shower
our fox terrier dog slept on the bed
this was the best house in the world to me
and now we had a tv with Flash Gordon
how could it ever get any better

"Happy Birthday Nick"

the snow was blowing forming deep drifts
as it settled quietly where assigned
it was a cold wintery day in northern Indiana
it was St. Nicholas Day, December 6th, 1962
my husband John and I were anticipating
the birth of our first child
I wondered as I waited whether
the baby would be a boy or a girl
it didn't really matter, just be OK
as things progressed, we decided to
warm up the four wheel drive car
and make our way to McCray Hospital
in our small town of Kendallville
it was a snowy slippery trip
the hospital was being remodeled
and it was cold in the hallways where
I walked waiting for Nick
my good friend, a nurse, Norma Robinson
was to be present at this event
just because I wanted her to be there
Dr. Bryan, my doctor knew better
than to argue with me
things did not go as well as we wanted
the hipnosis I had trained so hard for
fell by the way when we discovered
Nick was in a bad position
his elbow was the first thing out
perhaps this was foreshadowing
the ether I was given got to Nick
it hit him hard, so Dr Bryan ask
Norma who was looking out for us
to immediately put him in a rock-a-bed
an incubator that rocks
babies to keep them breathing
I did not get to see Nick right away
however, when I did he was amazing
perfect in every way, toes, fingers
arms and legs, eyes, nose, mouth,
penis and testicles amid the bruises
made by the forceps that helped guide him
into his cold new wintery world
I ask them to bring him to me
whenever he cried no matter how soon
it was after I just nursed him
I had problems with the feeding and a nurse
kindly showed me how to do it
and told me to ask that they did not
give him a bottle, except for water
the grandparents showed up fast
excited to see the new baby
my mother said he looked like a prince
after a week at the hospital
John came and took us to our West Avenue home
we were grateful Nick was OK
it was a difficult time for both of us
but wait, perhaps just as difficult for papa John
who locked himself out of the house
and had to put a garbage can lid through
a double pane kitchen window
scaring the dog nearly to death
this story made it into Grandfather Cliffs
column, Lines and Angles
in the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette newspaper
now we were truely a family
what we had hoped and planned for was beginning
what a ride this would be
Happy Birthday Nick

"The Filter""

what our eyes see
is in color
film sees black and white
colored photography ok
or black and white
imagination photography
color makes it easier
to see the total picture
not as much to figure out
black and white
tells us so much more
by doing so much less
we see life in color
everyday on display
take it away and what falls
into take its place
is the real story
like playing in the sand
when you feel something and
start to brush the sand away
to see what is underneath
our eyes give us color
black and white film
brushes it away
color is comfortable but it
conceals as it distracts
us from searching our
imagination to determine what
we actually see
pretty red dress
pretty dress
what color is the dress
perhaps lazy eyes are
too busy to want to work
to see a complex image
influenced by someone else
free falling photographer
can't you catch what you want
for yourself which would
satisfy the pallet
of all those who have
found the filter

The Library

picture a big dictionary
on a large wooden stand
at a big city library
alone in the dark
after the people have gone
the words on the pages
begin to rock and roll
they swirl up in the air
like a south texas tornado
finding the crack in the roof
at the edge of the skylight
they escape into the night sky
into the maps of stars
winding their way
around in space
aliens hear them
and write such as this
earthlings how is it
you let so many words
wander here and there
keep them at home
write about
your beautiful planet
sort out the right words
to show you how
to live in peace
with good health
listen to the message
from the library
grab some words
wish for peace on earth
goodwill towards all
there is a way
when we can see
moving in the words
of the night
at the library

"Worry"

I worry that no one
will want to read
what I write about
I worry that
they will not be able
to see my world
as I want them to
I worry that they
will not get caught
in the thoughts
that were in my mind
when my words found
their home
I worry that they will not
be able to unlock
the meaning of each word
I worry that I will
not be good enough
to deserve their time
when they have to
transend the page
full of my words
and free fall
into my net
of thoughts
I worry that my
my time is running out
and I am not finished
but, isn't that
the way it always is?
I worry worry worry

"The Last Line"

the time to write
is the write time
holding your breath
waiting for an idea
to find a landing pattern
in your webbed brain
is a futile attempt
at grasping at a fleeting
moment in the spin lines
that surround the Earth
Earth Mother why do you
wonder how the words
make their way
to the porch where you
and your best friend wait
label it finished
before you
dance your dance
to the tune you hear
no matter how far
or near
arrows from the world
will find you
lost in the yarn ball
of thoughts
the last line
will find the end

"Choices"

a mistake maybe
given free choice
can you see?
hear my voice?

good better best
then the bad
in with the rest
making us sad

click save now
no damaged occured
you will know how
it won't be blurred

choose with care
no going back
always be fair
stay on track

gather the good
keep evil at bay
do as you should
you will be ok

choices are funny
serious and slick
some about money
don't make them quick

keep calm under stress
don't become flustered
this is a test
choices are clustered

detach unlatch
unhook let go
snag the catch
choices flow

"Life is Like a River"

life is like a river
we stand on the bank
and watch it roll by
and never see the end

it is better that
we do not know
how it will end
like the beginning

the future is ours
etched by the past
the present is all
that really matters

the never ending ripples
hold the pace
hidden from each day
loving and laughing

there is no return
from the river
just a ride
the ride of your life!

"Winter"

skies are gray
the morning air is cold
the north wind
came in the night
and brought Winter
Gypsy and I sat
on the South porch
in the morning darkness
hoping to hang on
to our perch
on the porch
where we find
the words we write
the wind brings the stories
up the hill to us
we simply watch and listen
as the Winter wind blows

"Members Only"

When I was a young child
my mother told me
to stay on the right path
I should pretend Jesus Christ
was next to me all the time.
Unfortunately I did not
connect with this until
much later in life.
The groups and clubs I joined
over the years were good.
But, something was missing.
I was searching.
I just didn't know where to look.
It wasn't until the last few years,
when God reached down
and shook me up
that I finally joined His club.
His plan was in place
unbeknown to me
from my very first cry.
Find His plan for you,
become a member of His club.
He believes in you!
At the end of your plan
He will be waiting.
Members Only.

"Pumpkin Skies and Featherbed Nights"

The pumpkins are ripe
ready for picking.
The nights are cold
ready for the featherbeds.
The lonely Winter finds
me remembering.
Janice, Nedra and Cara,
the three Hall girls
who grew up at
524 East Elm Street
in a small Ohio town.
Moving on to find and form
their own families.
The years flew by
and time etched it marks
on their lives.
I remember seeing dad
the day before he died.
He was sick, a bad cough.
It did him in.
Mom was in her eighties
when she quietly slipped
away from us.
Aunt Grace is gone
but, the memory of her
angel food cakes survives in
memory of a young child.
Aunt Wilma could walk under
the kitchen table
when she was ten.
Moms family was big and nearby,
dad had only one sister
who was far away.
Old age is catching
those Hall girls.
For once being the youngest
has an advantage.
There is much to remember
packed away in the old boxes
in the Hall closet.
The past is mixed with the present
full of good times with
children, grandchildren, and friends.
Life carried me here for today.
Perhaps life is the package
wrapped in the red ribbon
delivered at the gate the
night before Christmas.
I wiggle and squirm each day
to find the right slot
to send me on my way
mixing memories and moments
I fondly remember the pumpkin skies
and featherbed nights.

"For Bard"

listen closely Bard
the wind is whistling
a soft tune
for the Autumn leaves
as they sway back and forth
on their way to the woods floor
looking like ceramic tile
carefully placed by artisans
to please the eye
and warm the heart
look closely Bard
see the sunrise and sunset
send their rays
like paths through the trees
finding their way
to the woods floor
watch closely Bard
as the rain clouds and
the lightening and thunder
perform their play
with the sky as a stage
smell the sweet rain
watch the new growth
its dark on the cabin porch
surrounded by the trees
we listened and watched
and saw this story of
what the woods had to say
perhaps Bard the story
will find you today

"The Nose Knows"

Now if you told Gypsy she had a big nose she would be flattered. If you told me I had a big nose I would not be flattered. The reason is because Gypsy is an English Pointer hunting dog. Her whole being is to sniff out birds. If she does not smell it, it is not there. When we are on her porch early in the morning and the West wind is blowing at a good clip, she sits next to me and with her nose ever so slightly tilted up, sniffs the crisp, cool air searching to fill a memory from her past. I always wonder what she is smelling as her eyes follow her nose pointing at the morning sky. I am not sure how good her eyes and hearing are, so it is good she has a big, good nose.
Now, when a person goes out to purchase an English Pointer dog, they want to be sure the dog will use its nose and not its eyes to find birds. A pointer is low to the ground and could not see birds in tall grass. Most of the time it is difficult to read puppies skills. So if possible, look at two year old pointers who have had just alittle training. Put a quail feather in the cuff of your pant leg and see if the dog finds it. Also, you can see a two year old dog work on the ground in the field. It is very important to get a dog that has a good nose, smell birds and wants to do this more than anything else in the world. Gypsy is this dog.
There are other things you can cope with if they aren't perfect. One dog we had had a terrible overbite, and Gypsy a kink in her tail. They are all hard of hearing when you are trying to give them your instructions on hunting. Gypsy is one of those dogs that the purest hunter would have problems with because of her tail. It is not quite straight. When she points it is like a ski slope, except for the kink, from the tip of her tail to the end of her nose. You can pick her up and move her, but she will not break this point. She is like a statue. A few of our dogs knew how fast to approach birds so as to not flush them and just how close to get so the birds would not run. This is a delicate situation where alittle too much or alittle to little could ruin the point. Gypsy knew about this and executed her skill perfectly. A good hunting dog is born with this ability as well as the ability to honor another dogs point. That is a hunting dog. This is Gypsy. She lived for these moments.
Another thing about this dog. She can take you or leave you. Dirty looks abound if your behavior is questionable. She expects you to feed her, take her for walks and scratch her belly. Her bed must be made everyday (when mine isn't) on her highway 281 red leather chair and ottoman. Her chair is named this because the couple, Angie and Lynn who sell furniture, put it outside along highway 281 on nice days where folks driving by can see it. There is always a red leather chair included. It has become famous. Everyone looks for it.
Pointers are intelligent, single minded, stubborn dogs who decide early on to do it their way no matter what the consequences. They don't bother with small stuff. She has never tried to fight with another dog. She worked hard most of her life. Her first two years she was in a kennel where we found her. She had never even been in a veterinarians office. It didn't take her long to figure it out.
She twitches and yipes in her sleep dreaming of the good old days when we were walking the fields of South Texas hunting. We always tried to hunt into the wind which would carry the scent of the birds to Gypsy nose. She would be running as fast as she could and stop on a dime when she found birds. I wonder if her dreams are as good as the real thing? Maybe they are better.

"Holy Rain"

the rain came down
like silver threads
through the sunshine
not making a sound

a rainbow a promise
a message said
caught in the drops
held by the thread

"Boom Boom"

white wings are flying
your shotgun moves
through the air
following your eyes
held in your hands
tight to your shoulder
Boom Boom
it speaks to the
late afternoon breeze
as doves fall to the ground
silenced early forever
your chessie retrieves them
to your hand
for your dinner tonight
no beef pork chicken or fish
just doves wrapped in bacon
stuffed with jalapenos
on the charcoal grill
no added hormones
or antiobiotics
the tired dogs have been checked
for ticks and thorns
and received their massage
the sun is setting
the Black Label in the glass
in your hand is gone
as you watch the sunset
in South Texas after
a day of hunting on your lease
it is pitch black dark
as you take the doves
off the grill
and go inside for dinner
sleep comes easily to this bunch
and their dreams are of hunting
point the shotgun
pass the bird
pull the trigger
Boom Boom
doves for dinner

" Webs in the Woods"

just when we thought
the storms were over
a gentle rain fell
with the sun
shining through it
we could find no rainbow
as we checked each porch
but saw the miles of webs
that connect the woods
sparkling as the sun found them
wet from the rain shower
I was amazed that it could rain
and not make a sound
on the metal roof of the cabin
A deer walked down the road
seemingly with no place to go
like us sitting on Gypsys porch
in the cool clear morning air
allowing our minds
to wander and wonder
like the webs in the woods

"The Little Bake Shop"

"The Little Bake Shop"

the little bake shop
full of wishes and dreams
just a short hop
off sun and moon beams

sifter full of flour
only lumps left behind
bake for and hour
after mixed with time

butter, sugar and salt
a wonderful blend
tasteful no fault
a delight at the end

pies, cakes and cookies
lifes best desserts
even good for rookies
even good for flirts

don't burn while baking
your timer get set
recipes are for making
the best you can get

special you are
a gardenia in bloom
you are the star
lunch is at noon

"Gypsy"

They say dogs don't have souls.
That's ok I guess.
Gypsy my 10 year old English Pointer,
can ride along with mine.
We know each other well
after so many years together.
Sometimes I wonder if she wonders
where the dogs and people
who have died have gone.
She never says anything about it.
She takes each day like
the new one it is.
She is just glad to be here.
She remembers and dreams.
She likes my nine year old Grandson Kody.
When he is here at the cabin
she is his constant companion.
She puts her head on my shoulder
and bats at me with her paws
telling me not to stop scratching her.
She likes her new highway 281 red leather chair
which is covered with her favorite soft blankets.
I wonder if she is ever lonely
without her old dog companions?
She tells me when she is not feeling well,
and always hates the trip to the vet.
Even as we get older
we remain alittle bit silly.
She reminds me everyday
we are fortunate to be here
to see the sunrise together.

"Uncle Mike"

Uncle Mike died yesterday
the last of the Daniel Spengler clan.
His smile is what I remember best,
a smiling, friendly good looking man.
Before him came others, after as well;
William, Walter, Edwin and Ida
James, Wilhelmina, (Anna) and Julia
Jacob, (Infant Daughter), Harold-Uncle Mike
Christian and (David)
I remember well moms stories
about life on the farm
in the beautiful, rich flat land
which brought their ancestors
from the hills of Schaffhausen, Switzerland
to their farm near Elmira, Ohio.
There was a wood burning stove in the kitchen
the dog slept under during the cold, Ohio Winters.
There were warmed stones from this stove
put in their beds on or under the feather ticks
that kept them warm.
There was a Summer kitchen near the big farm house
where their mother cooked during the hot Ohio Summers.
On Monday many loaves of bread
were baked for the coming week.
One story mom told us about Mike
was that he was headed into town one day
with his father, which was a big treat.
On the way they met one of the older brothers
coming home in a new surrey with a fringe on the top.
Do you want to go to town with dad Mike
or come ride with me in the new surrey?
Needless to say a tough decision.
When he was still a small child
he use to crawl up high on the wind mill
scaring everyone to death.
Mom also use to tell about the little boy
who use to run out around the wind mill
yelling fire, fire, fire.
When they all ran in from working in the fields
there was no fire.
Well one day there was a fire
and no one left the fields to check it out.
Someone was in alot of trouble.
I remember seeing Mike and his wife
and cousin Dan at the Spengler reunions
at Archbold, Ohio every year.
Then the reunions were moved
to the school in Elmira, Ohio.
Tables of food down the hallways so good
I can't describe it. Boys playing basket ball in the gymn.
The women in the school kitchen with the big food mixer whirring
making a big batch of mashed potatoes. Lots of children
just big enough to see what was being done.
The aroma of the food was wonderful.
A family laughing and eating together,
what fun for my two sisters Nedy and Janny and I.
It might be Mike was alittle spoiled
by all the older brothers and sisters.
I don't think so. However, as I recall that wonderful smile,
there might have been just a slight twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
As luck would have it I see that same smile
was passed down from father to son.
We see that same beautiful smile in cousin Dans eyes.
We know this is a sad time for all of us. But the memories
we have are of good times. We go back to look at our lives,
so maybe we will get a glimps of where we are going.
We will remember Uncle Mike and continue to feel fortunate to have known him.

"Zen 0"

What is?
What isn't?
Harems of meditation
Leaking the truth
Through brain wrinkles
Lavished by too much
Rotting on the vine
Only time to wish
Slime in the gutters
Mans obliquity
Falling from grace
Lost in the desert sand
Sitting on stacks
Of stolen gold
Held by their hands
As Hell opens the door
Me, myself and I
Slaves in chains
At "Zen 0"

"Hill Country Autumn 2008"

the Autumn leaves
dazzle us today
catching our eyes
enjoying in everyway

keeping us in their spell
so we do not look away
seeing what they tell
adding beauty to our day

floating in space
carrying their hues
to yet another place
that make up our views

this year is the best
the Hill Countries brighter
more than the rest
it's a real delighter

thankful we are
for beauty abounding
wherever we find it
we find it astounding

" Cabin Porch Perfect Morning Memories"

Gypsy and I were on the cabin porch early this morning. It was so dark we could only distinguish the trees in the Angel Patch that were outlined by the stars in the morning sky. The lace work formed by the leaves of the red oaks against the morning sunrise is truely magnificent. Then we saw it, a shooting star across the horizon. Surely this was a good sign. It was beautiful. The lantern we had lit was sending its flickering glow accross the cabin porch like small, golden, feathers dancing to the gentle breeze that reached the crack in the lantern door. It was very quiet and very dark. The stars were bright, all in all a perfect morning here at the cabin. We could not pull ourselves away, so Gypsy crawled into her pink porch bed and soon was snoring away. I moved from my chair to the first step of the porch so Gypsy could come and sit with me and get scratched. She was so comfortable she choose to remain in her bed. As I sat on the step, the morning dew dripped off of the cabins metal roof into my espresso and onto my hands. It had a cool and fresh feeling. We wanted to savor all we could of this wonderful morning, atleast I did.
My mind began to drift and I remembered that my fathers birthday was on Halloween, which was yesterday. I wondered if my three children knew this and if they did would remember it? I remembered all the things I had learned from my father.
He always told me to get the work done first and then go out and play. He never liked being in debt, and told me it was best to pay for everything up front. He made car deal after car deal with a handshake. I use to hang out at his office in the building where he made good deals selling Chrysler cars and International trucks. His handshake was his word and his reputation of honesty followed every handshake. I learned you do what you say you will do. When folks got stranded with car trouble on the Ohio Turnpike and ended up at my fathers garage, he sent them on their way in one of his cars and a handshake that would hold their deal, until they would return on their way home to leave his car and pick up there car. Your reputation was a big part of who you were, and brought many people to my father to buy a car.
He took me hunting with my BB gun and our old fox terrier dog Gus. Now, Gus was a great hunter until the first shot was fired. He then, on his own volition returned to the truck and was still shaking when we got there. We hunted in the woods and cornfields of my dads customers and my mothers relatives near the small town in Northern, Ohio. We also picked our share of wild sponge mushrooms mom would wash shaking out the small insects that hid in the sponge part and then dust them in flour and fry them in butter. I usually ate so many I got sick. Some things we never learn.
My dad also let me drive brand new Chrysler cars home from Detroit, Michigan on
Telegraph road. This road was a three lane, cars going in both directions used the middle lane to pass. You guess it, head on collisions just waiting to happen. This was pretty exciting stuff for a fifteen year old, and it made me happy to think my dad trusted me so much. He taught me how to drive. And, by the way, I wasn't sixteen yet and did not have a drivers license. So, this was the reason I always wanted to go to Detroit to pick up new cars. If by chance they had an extra car for dad, I got to drive it home. It scared me alittle each time because of Telegraph road but, not enough to make me stop wanting to do it. We also got to stop at a big city restaurant for lunch. Wow!
My moms folks, Grandpa and Grandma Spengler had died so young I never knew them. I only knew Grandma Spengler had 12 children at home, nine of whom survived. They had a big farm in Ohio, and Grandpa died young of a heart attack. We would visit dads parents, my Grandpa and Grandma Hall most every Sunday afternoon in the small, Ohio farmimg town where they lived. My mom counted the distance from where we lived to their house by how many fingers we had yet to go. Janice and Nedra and I would constantly ask her, "How many fingers yet mom?" I remember the rain on the metal roof of their farm house, the apple orchard and the beautiful shrubs Grandpa trimmed in the cemetary just down the road from their house. My two sisters and I loved to go on those visits, it was fun.
When my dad was still young his lingering heart problem caught him one day after work. He went out in their backyard and laid down in the hammock, as he did so often. Mom found him there when he did not respond to her call. I felt fortunate to have seen him the day before, having gone back home for a few days to look after mom.
So, you see, remembering as the morning drifts by out on the cabin porch we are mindful how lucky we are to have memories like these that hang around us through the years like ghosts in the night. As much as I want to stay out on the porch, I want to get to the computer and write as much as I can for my children and grand children. So, they can know that from the farms in Switzerland, to the farms and towns in Ohio their legacy is of fine, honest, hard working, independent people. People who took care of themselves and others. People who were not afraid to make sacrifices for what they believed. Their blood flows through our veins and will hopefully influence all of us as well as Kody, my grandson and his coming brother or sister. I am sure as I write this, my mom and dad will read it and be as pleased as I am by these memories. Our lives are like rivers whose end we never see.

"Passage of Time"

There is something about this passage of time.
It is unique to any other time that passes.
It is a hole into the very core of being
holding unknown events still,
even after they have taken [place
but, have not found us yet.
They come with perhaps a phone call
informing us about something that happened
to a friend or family member.
A surprise we could never imagine.
This time passes when you are
living as though things are as usual
and you discover that something has happened,
such as a plane crash.
You were happily waiting at the airport and suddenly
everything changes.
It can also be a happy event.
I don't know what to call it.
You are actually hap,py when it
has already occured you just don't know
it has occured.
What is this time? A mystery to me.
Everyone has had this time in their lives
and wondered how it could happen.

"Send Me No Flowers"

send me no flowers
just let ne go
drifting memories
are all that's left
of good times
lost in the past
fate threw at me
when I thought I knew
where life was taking me
with you at my side
I didn't know myself
I didn't know you
we had a love
that paved the road
that led me here
and I am eternally grateful

" Fire From a Match "

a handful of ice is what it felt like
when I touched you knowing
I had lost you to a younger
more beautiful world
which would renew the lust
of our youth when we did not
know what time would carry with it
changing our looks and thoughts
catching on rough spots between us
we never really tried to iron out
listing like a sinking ship in the rough seas
created by years together never bailing out the
darkest recess of the boat we were in
wondering where the laughing teenagers went
who knew nothing of tomorrow
holding hands with fate not failing
because of promises made in black and white
and the mask of dwindling youth
the fire from a match was
all there was

" Come Sit by the Cross "

Come Sit by the Cross
make it your choice
success no loss
when He hears your voice

it stands alone
close to a tree
near the stone
it says come to me

it gave you salvation
a gift of love
can you see
the promise from above

it beckons all
who want to know
to test the call
and in love grow

prayers of asking
you can do
Jesus will find you
in your heart so true

if life isn't working
if it seems a mess
He has a plan for you
without all the stress

if you haven't looked
for his plan for you
stop what your doing
it's the right thing to do

love wields great power
it glues us together
the cross is the tower
for us to be better

" Go Someplace Remote and Write "

this is a a place
where God makes house calls
and where Jesus
comes to rest

just a small log cabin
in a five acre woods
in the rolling hills
of central Texas

we haven't always lived
in the Texas Hill Country
God called us here
and told us to write

He didn't tell us
what to write
so we do the best
we can to please Him

when we got His message
telling us to go someplace
remote and write
we questioned His wish

the remote part was ok
except the kids
didn't want me
so far away

the writing part
was impossible
for me to even imagine
I didn't know how

as a matter of fact
I froze if ask to write
more than my name
and address

His plan for me
has been recognized
He is leading me
down His path

when my life is what
He wants it to be
it will be
what I want it to be

" A Turkey Day "

While I was talking on the phone this morning to my oldest son, a large male turkey walked into my front yard. As soon as we finished our conversation, I stepped outside to take a closer look a it. It was calmly strutting around the yard, fluffing its feathers every so often. Now, since it did not flush, I knew it was not wild and must belong to my neighbor Joe. Just a few weeks ago he purchased about six or seven turkeys. During my last visit with him he told me one of his male turkeys had come up missing. So, when this guy showed up, I pretty much figured it was Joes. I called him and he said it probably was his and that it might follow me if I could walk it down our road to his house. He said the bobcats had been after his birds, so he had set a trap for them. As of yet, he had not caught any, so it stands to reason the birds might have had to make a hasty retreat to a safer place. Joe is only here on the weekends, so I decided to try and keep the turkey in my yard so he could come and get him when he gets here on Friday. I closed the gate and called Bill who is coming today to finish work on the bunkhouse and told him the gate would be closed. I ask him to call me if he had a problem and that I was at home trying to keep a turkey from getting out of my yard. Usually when the gate is closed during the day I am gone. I went out and threw some food around. I could tell by the way the turkey was acting that at this point, it was not going to follow me anywhere. It was not excited by my presence just cautious. The front porch feral cats were interested in the big bird but, had enough sense to leave it alone. Gypsy has not seen it yet because she is out in back of the cabin in her angel patch. She on the other hand, if she could, would pursue this big bird with gusto. She has had dreams of going after a big bird. She enjoyed the quail and pheasant, but what she has always wanted was a BIG bird. Her dreams of the sighting, the chase and the final catch have filled her mind for many years. She has obsessed over it. Now, Gypsy does not want you to think just because she caught a big bird that she would just tear it to pieces and cover herself with blood and guts while digesting some delicate morsels. She has respect for turkeys, and believes they have a place in the world. The only problem is that place is in her mouth after a fun, fun, chase and catch. She has no idea that a bird of this size could wreak havoc on the likes of her. When this scenario plays out in real life we will know for sure. Until then, Gypsy will continue to dream her dreams about the big bird that got away in a pursuit so close she ended up with a mouth full of feathers. When she is on her bed sleeping soundly and her feet and eyes are twitching and quivering she is in hot pursuit of this wiley bird, the one that got away. I hear the turkey calling, I wonder if Gypsy will hear it. As I look for her I see she is on a solid point. Oh my, what a day this will be, a turkey day.

" Peaches and Cream "

Oh crescendo oh!
a silent sight
so brilliant
of white clouds
of a peachy sunrise
covering the hills
the suns misty rays
finding their way
through the trees
throwing trails
of light
like highways
leading to
where you sit
covering your mind
for the day
peaches and cream

" White, Pink and Blue "

white, pink and blue
morning glories
dancing in the breeze
just outside the window
where I write
I am not sure
but, I think
the hummingbirds
have gone for the winter
looking for more summer
they do not visit
the morning glories
anymore at my window
stopping to look
in at me as I write
they know it's time to go
perhaps someplace in Mexico
looking for warmth and food
we will miss them
the lonely winter is coming
the morning glories will fade
we will watch and wait
white, pink and blue

"Faith "

For the first time in my seventy years of life I saw a situation where too much faith caused a disaster. There was a television show where a father lost his wife and youngest son when his oldest son shot them to death. Most people who knew the family thought they were a close, tight knit family. There attended church and contributed to the community. They were nice people. They had strong faith in God .
If you looked at their family pictures or talked to their neighbors you would only believe they were a wonderful family. Only after this disaster occured did some people speak of problems concerning the oldest son. The mother on occasion had voiced some concern about him. Some of his friends spoke of unusual
circumstances concerning the oldest son. The father when questioned about his oldest sons activities admitted there were some unexplainable situations concerning him. The son had been in college three years and his family thought he was going to gradate, they did not know he was not making it in school since his freshman year! Well, yes they saw some questional things but, had faith all was well. The son had spoken to people about killing his family. No one could believe it could happen. How many time have you heard it said that if a person says they are going to kill themselves or someone else to believe them. There were signs that this boy was in trouble. No one took it seriously, they had faith everything would be alright. The father a faithful weakling ignored his sons cry for help. The mother had questions and did nothing. We go to church and are nice folks and know there can be nothing going wrong in OUR family, with our hands over our eyes and our fingers crossed behind our backs. God expects you to use your head and if you suspect a child or anyone else is in trouble step in and do something. If you are the parent of a child that has been in college for four years and has actually not been in college four years, and you didn't know he was not in school for the last three years raise your hand. How many of you parents would not have known this? Would there not have been a signal or two or something that would have motivated you to check on your oldest sons activities? How could you not see something was wrong in all that time? You were not trusting your instincts, your blind faith that all would be well fell by the way. We cannot let our faith blind us so as to allow horrible thing to happen because we don't want to interrupt the comfortable feeling we have in believing somehow because we are doing everything right that everything will be alright if we just believe it will be right. Faith has to be backed up with common sense and strength to deal with the unpleasantness we want to ignore and not have to deal with because it will break what we think, but know is not so, the perfect bubble our life is in. This is the mentality that says, I don't want to know if my kids are taking drugs or are in some sort of other trouble. What do they spend the money on that I give them? If I know I will have to deal with it and right now all seems well, so lets not rock the boat. I would rather not know what someone is doing, so I don't have to deal with it. At least once in four years call the college where you child is a student and check and see if he or she is actually there. Pull your head out of the sand and know any child can get in trouble. Know they will hide it from you because they know it is wrong. If something is wrong you hide it. Just because you go to Sunday School and Church does not automatically mean all is well. Faith can be blind, God is not. He gave you instincts and intuition to see wrong doings. Trust yourself and know where you children are and who they are with. Now we all know this is not 100%, but do your best. God wants you to watch dog your children.

" Hunting Czechoslovakia "

While hunting in Czechoslovakia
we had bird boys and girls
who would pick up the birds we had shot.
They were teenagers looking to learn
and earn alittle money.
One of the girls who was fetching birds
for John and I was having alittle trouble
picking up the birds if they weren't quite dead.
I decided to help her and showed her
how to put her foot over the live birds head
and press it firmly to the ground.
Do what damage you can do
and then reach down and pick it up
and wring its neck. Hence, a bird for the
cooking pot, back at the lodge.
Often they were our evening meal.
After the days hunt there was a service
honoring all the birds
that were shot that day.
They were laid out on the ground
near a large fire started in their honor.
The hunters formed a line in front of them
and were part of the service to honor the birds.
Good sportsmanship and respect for the game
were always part of our hunting.

" Hotels "

Remember staying in the 5 star hotels?
A lobby fit for a King.
Staff in starched, pressed, uniforms scurring about
taking you to your room with a view.
The bed linen white, crisp and clean.
White down covers perfectly placed on the bed.
An air conditioner purring out its cool, clean air.
Clean carpet and a clean bathroom, no smoking here.
The ever present shampoo, conditioner, soap, body lotion shower cap
kleenex, hair dryer and drinking glasses
with paper covers over the top to tell you how much they care
and that that glasses are clean.
Thick, white cotton bathrobes and towels.
Just pick up the phone and you got
a delicious breakfast in bed,
and anything else you wanted.
A little refrigerator full of your favorite drinks.
Hangers you could steal, color television,
extra pillows and blankets that looked
like no one had ever used them.
Candy on the pillow at bedtime
and a paper under the door in the morning,
and wake up calls.
All you could want and more.

Remember this hotel?
A dark, dingy, lobby
that smelled of old dirt and smoke.
Dragging your suitcase up the stairway
down a dimly lighted, smoky hallway
to a room that looked down
on the roof and the alley
above the hotel kitchen.
The carpet was dirty and when you opened
the window to get rid of the smoky smell,
you smelled the cooking grease of the kitchen.
The towels were small and gray,
making you wonder if they had ever been washed.
There was no soap, shampoo, etc..
There was a dark gray ring around
the bottom of the bathtub.
Someone elses hairs stuck to the surface of the tub.
There was something brown on the toilet seat.
You were not sure if you wanted to even
put your suitcase on the soiled bedspread.
You carefully folded it
and took it off the bed.
The pillows looked like a bag of cement
that had hardened in the bag
and lost its paper cover.
You looked down at the gray sheets
and noticed something on the fitted one
that covered the mattress.
You looked closer and saw
that it was a scab from someones scalp
with a long black hair still attached.
If you went down to the desk
and ask for clean towels and sheets
they would be the same.
How were you going to stay in a room
where you did not want to touch anything?
You did.

" The Latest and Greatest "

When times are good
there are plenty of good times.
We want more and don't keep score.
Mistakes were made,
everyone is to blame.
Whoever becomes president,
will inherit this mess.
Debt is destroying
our land and people.
The taxpayer will
pay the bills of the country
when they can't pay their own.
They are now the needy.
The need for the need.
Never enough of the latest
and the greatest.
The goods times stopped,
even the rich are poor.
The searchers stuck
with their feet
in the mud of greed.
A perfect situation
for the terrorists.
What will matter after
they stike again
and there is no power
to plug in the latest and greatest?

" Me, Myself and I "

Everything I write
reflects
my outlook on life.
Memories of the past,
a glimpse of the present,
the maps of the future.
Like openning
a box a Cracker Jacks
to find a prize
and see what it is.
So much happens
by your doing nothing,
like gray hair and glasses.
Forrest Gumps mother
said it well.
"Life is like
a box of chocolates,
you never know what you are
going to get."
What we search for
is ourselves,
hidden like the seeds
we put in the compost
waiting to see what will surface.
Surprise, after surprise
of new growth
sprouting in our lives
as we search.
Never quite satisfied
because we know there is more
we have not yet discover.
We need to know
what is over
the next mountain.
We need to know
what will continue to fuel
the flames of our fire.

" Learning to Remember "

Learning to remember.
Your birthday
after the three years
you have been gone.
Being reminded again
of the events intertwined
in 46 years together.
What I would be
if our paths
hadn't crossed.
The children, animals
friends, hunting, fishing
giving life to our life.
We made our way
the best we could.
The good times still
bring a smile to my face.
Alone now, to see
what I still have to learn.
I wonder as I wander
an uncertain path
still following
your footprints
after all these years.
Your eyes just behind mine,
learning to remember.

I Am the Writer"

I Am the Writer.
I am nothing.
You are the reader.
You are everything.
Each word
that finds the page
is for you.
Too much, not enough,
you are the reason
I am here.
You are why
I write.
My mind searches for you
in each thought
protecting and respecting
the very idea of you.
Laughing and crying
among the words.
Come and sit with me
and be my friend.
The writer.

"Nomad"

Nomad
searcher
learner
metamorphose

answer the question
hands eyes heart
become the camera
you hold

wheels for feet
traveling
to see
first hand

no following
independent
intelligent
hilarious

places
hold you
crayons
color your eyes

watching
sorting
pictures
frames

minds eye
camera
never still
journals

click
images
silent
lonely

finding
yourself
in the eyes
of others

Nomad
where
are you
going?

what do
you want
to find
in the light?

perhaps
the part
of you
unknown

the part
observers find
in the shadows
of your work

the little bit
left behind
to make
them wonder

the mystery
in the picture
revealing all that
needs to be known

"The Game"

Cut the cards
Be a Bard
Make a verse
Be terse

Engage
Be sage
First is best
Empty nest

All is not
All we've got
Hedge the bet
Don't fret

Soon
A balloon
Hear the tune
Swoon

Cotton candy
Handy
Candy apples
Dandy

Life floats
Tears your moat
Soil
Toil

Maxim
Maybe
Tried
True

Entr'acte
Tack
Lithe
Blithe

"Now"

now
silence
to think
to listen
to your inside self
creating thoughts
yesterday
today
to sustain you
now gone
what about tomorrow?
never now
it's no good
your brain
washed clean
talking on a cell phone
watching tv, movies
computers
listening to sounds
ipods
rewind
fast forward
fancy fast cars
the fast lane?
all designed
for your pleasure
to make life
better
easy
more fun!
when we all know
what happens
is the opposite
it all began
when we started
moving faster
through time
and space
than our thinking
could hold
talking
not listening
no quiet moments
what is left over
is our dilemma
where thinking
has ceased
and given way
to lost
yesterdays
now silence
no tomorrows
not now

"PressOn"

It was quiet on the cabin porch this morning. The trees were silent with no wind to give them the sound of time passing. The clouds in the sky quietly drifted by. The fog wandered in and covered the hills like white frosting on a cake never making a sound. The sunlight began to touch the trees and woods floor and the distant hills silently. The birds came to get a drink and some seed quietly. The only sound we heard was the creek of the porch swing chains as I moved back and forth listening for the first sound of the morning to unfold. There it was. A Hummingbird came by with its soft, gentle hum. The second one caused a minor scuffle at the feeder. Then we heard the crack and pop of the gravel as the little yellow school bus turned from the paved road to the gravel road that runs by the cabin. It must be seven o'clock. When the big, black tires of civilization hit the gravel road it signals their arrival to all those who are listening. When the bus gets to its destination nearby the back up beeper turns on and pierces the quiet morning air like a sharp, shiny knife. The dogs bark to warn of this mighty intrusion. Then, all loaded up the little yellow school bus leaves our quiet space and heads back to the city to deliver its passenger for a day at school. Now we will see the little red truck go by followed shortly by the little white truck tossing up clouds of white dust behind them from our dry gravel road. The fine, white dust will settle back down on the road and the weeds and the trees. This will pretty much be the activity for the day unless Loretta our neighbor across the road decides to go to town. She will put Reuben her black and brown curly haired dachshund out and he will bark about it. Bo, her big dog will say nothing. He is a kind gentle giant. Loretta is a wonderful neighbor and our only one within earshot.
Gypsy is on her porch chewing on a bone thinking about the lizard and snakes that she could not catch that live in the remnants of a redbud tree we cut down last year. It left a bush behind we trim and manicure for them so Gypsy can spend her days in hot pursuit. She thinks lizards and snakes at bad characters and need to be dug up, chased and chewed. She is totally mesmerized by them and spends the entire day with her nose in the bush. Last night, I had to take a leash out to get her to stop. She was very near to getting smacked by the end of the leash for not coming. However, at the last minute I decided if there was a lizard or a snake in the bush, it would be hard even for the likes of me to give up the chase and retire for the night. You guessed it. This morning in the cool, crisp, quiet air Gypsy slinked down to the bush. She used all her wiles not be detected as she silently stalked her way. At some point her desire overcomes her and she breaks and pounces on the bush. Ah yes, almost got them this time. She is determined and so are they. This is play time in the Angel Patch inside Gypsys five foot high, cedar post rabbit fence. By the way, the rabbits somehow get through this fence occasionlly. It is then up to me to see them before Gypsy does and chase them out to safety. Gypsy does not want you to think that she would catch and kill a rabbit. She actually likes rabbits better than cats. She does not want you to think she would kill any animal that turns up in her area. She wants you to know that she just means to give them a good scare and let them go. In her heart of hearts she believes this. In our heart of hearts we know better.
Monday we will trap our first feral cats to take them to the vet in Boerne, Texas. They will get a rabies shot and be neutered. They will get a small piece of their ears clipped off so animal control will know they are not to be taken. It is called TNR. This helps to maintain a healthy feral cat colony. They are magnificent creatures and will survive long after us. They live and play on their porch which is on the opposite side of the cabin from Gypsys porch. If they are foolhearty enough to get onto the wrong porch someone might get hurt. Yes, there is alittle tension here at the cabin. Gypsy says she can't help how she feels about cats. She says if I knew all the stories she could tell me about them, I would understand. She sees no need for cats, feral or not. My guess is she has perhaps an overblown confidence of her ability to handle a cat. She thinks it would be a cake walk, one of her half baked adeas. My days of separating and patroling the porches are surely not over. Somehow we must all learn to live together in peace. Gypsy is rolling on her back on her porch laughing with visions of lizards, snakes, rabbits and cats dancing in her head and the only peace she sees, is a piece in her mouth. She says that will be the day. Persistance and determination alone are omnipotent. Press on.

"Save The Birds!"

Yesterday, the window next to my writing desk took a direct hard hit from a white winged dove. I was writing. It hit so hard it scared me. I immediately jumped up and ran outside to the downed dove. The trick here is to beat the nine cats and Gypsy to the window crazed birds. They fly into the windows so hard sometimes they drop to the ground dead. If so they are food and we are ok with that. First come first served. However, sometimes they are just extrememly confused after they crash and just need alittle time to recover. This is where I come in if I get to them in time. Believe it or not the cats and Gypsy are tuned into the sound the birds make when they hit the windows. They are fast in getting to the downed birds. Smart guys who have learned how to survive. If I arrive too late to save the birds I end up watching their feathers disappear into the mouths of the cats and Gypsy. Today I got to the downed dove and saw it get through the fence into Gypsys area. She was in the house so I knew the dove would be ok as it looked for a place to recover. I also knew it might not recover and would end up in Gypsys mouth. I waited several hours and then walked around the Angel Patch where the dove would most likely be, trying to scare it out of hiding. I did not find it and assumed it was either dead, dying or gone. I went back into the cabin and let Gypsy out. Within in seconds she had picked up the birds scent where it had come through the fence and was on a solid point next to some heavy cover in the Angel Patch where the dove had gone to hide. If it was ok it would be in the air by now. Enough time had passed that I knew the dove was dying. I released her to get it and she came out of the brush with the dove in her mouth. She was a most happy, proud dog to have this magnificent prize. I told her she was a good girl and she strutted around the yard with the bird in her mouth. It held her interest for most of the day and she finally ate it. I swept the feathers left behind off the porch and we both thought it had been a good day for us and a bad day for a dove.
Today, as I was sitting at my writing desk we heard another bump on the big picture window off to the right of my writing desk. Gypsy jumped up and so did I. We just looked at each other and thought what was that sound. It was not nearly as loud as the dove, but it had the ring of a bird crashing into a cabin window. This window is on the porch so all crashing birds fall on the porch floor. Once again she was in the cabin, so I hot tailed it out on the porch. Well, much to my surprise this time there were two hummingbirds on the floor of the porch just below the window. I reached down and touched one of them and moved it ever so gently putting it right side up. It paused a second and flew away. The other one was just laying on the wooden porch floor not moving. I reached down and turned it over and it shook itself and took off nearly flying directly into my face. A successful rescue. So it goes here at our cabin in the woods. People ask me, what do you do all day? Between hand feeding the runt feral kitten and saving the kamikaze birds I try to write alittle. Sometimes it takes us a long time to stop our morning on the porch watching the sunrise. The sky has been unusual for the past few day because of Hurricane Ike. We thought we might get some rain and wind from this huge storm but, at the last minute it made a turn to the East. I thank my friends from Maine, Oklahoma, Ohio and elsewhere that called us to be sure Gypsy and I were out of the hurricanes reach. Bill and Debra also said to call them anytime, day or night, if I had a problem due to the storm. Bill is the guy who does all the remodeling around here and they are long time friends. It is a good feeling to have folks concerned enough to call. We weren't ever in any real danger, but it was nice anyway.
Cooler weather is on its way and we are glad. It has been a long hot Summer. We hope our first guests in the newly remodeled bunkhouse will be able to enjoy some of our cooler days. Fall, Winter and Spring are the nicest day of the years here at the cabin. Gypsy and I see alot of porch time in our future.

"Stop"

.
Stop.
Look around.
Where are you going so fast?
Can your feet be still?
Are you afraid to think
of what you will learn
and what you will do
if you stop? Yes.
Charged like a battery
everyday. Alone to ponder.
A searcher. For what?
Running in every way
every day
is your solution?
Why?
Stop look and listen
to your call.
There is a peaceful place
deep down inside of you
waiting.
Your bare feet
feel the cool rain.
You spend time looking
at the hummingbirds
on the morning glories
in the rain
outside your writing window
on Gypsys fence.
Why can't you look away?
What holds you?
The cats are dry
on the porch.
The dog is asleep
on the sofa.
It is quiet
as the rain falls
on the metal roof
of the cabin
There are places to go
work to do
and people to see.
The woods won't
let you go.
Solitude your soul.
Can you?
Peace.
Stop.
.

"Good Better Best"

Strike up the band
life's on its way
All over the land
What do you say?

Let yourself go
Jump up and down
Go with the flow
Be a clown!

Voice your advice
You're in the know
Roll the dice
Its your show

This is the time
when its done its done
You will be sublime
If you had fun!

Good better best
don't be shy
feather your nest
Always try

Be kind to all
walk softly here
lest you should fall
keep friends near

Laughings is healthy
North south east west
A good soul is wealthy
Good better best

"Sorrow"

Sorrow is the ribbon
tied around the bouquets
binding sad stems together
that hold the color
against the gray walls of death
the plot the ash
the black umbrellas
the black veils
in the rain
the eulogy
rain soaked stones
for eternity
family and friends
shedding tears of sorrow
remembering times of happiness
all being soaked up
by the hard cold ground
under their feet
in the silent cemetery
where sorrow finds its home
away from home
in the quiet dark place
where stillness lies
quieting the sounds
of sorrow

"Three Act Play"

Death comes with its wild ways
usurping the nap from life
like shaving velvet
engraving words in stone
proof of life for eternity
the beat does not go on
caught in the catechism
supported by flying buttresses
in Godly bastions
where demigods are idles
of the throngs
on their grids
which lead them
to their ultimate
last act
of lifes three act play
birth life death
the half way decent sinner
You and your wild ways

Black Widow"

Well, I have lived in Texas for many years and have seen alot of tarantulas, centipedes, spiders, scorpions, lizards and snakes. But, today September 3, 2008 I saw my first Black Widow Spider. Carlos my Organic Pest Control guy found it hidden in the four horse shoes in Gypsys area at the back yard of the cabin, near the Angel Patch. If we had decided to play horseshoes we may have found it sooner. Its bite feels like a pin prick and sometimes is not even felt. A slight local swelling and two red dots locate the bite. Pain becomes intense in 1 to 3 hours and may continue up to 48 hours. Symptoms include abdominal pain, leg cramps, rise in blood pressure, profuse perspiration, tremors, loss of muscle tone and vomiting. The toxin my cause breathing problems and sometimes unconsciousnesss. It is black with a red fiddle on its back. It looks very streamline, like a black and red race car.
The Brown Recluse Spider was in a baking dish on a shelf under the cupboard. My grandson Kopdy had come for a visit. Since he doesn't eat gluten we usually cook when he comes. Well, when I pulled out the baking dish for the brownies we had made there was the Recluse. It had a 7 or 8 inch web that looked like a narrow piece of white tape. On each end and in the middle of the piece was a small circle of yellow eggs about the circumference of a pencil ereaser. Needless to say we killed the spider and throughly cleaned the baking dish. The Brown Recluse is a non aggressive fellow. Its body and legs cover an area about the size of a quarter. Its color varies from orange-yellow to dark brown to black.The most distinguishing characteristics of this spider are its eyes and its back markings. It has three pairs of eyes arranged in a semi-circle on the forepart of its head. The eyes also form the base of a violin shaped marking on its back. Usually, the bite causes a stinging sensation then intense pain. Within 24 to 36 hours a systemic reaction may occur, characterized by restlessness, fever, chills, nausea, weakness and joint pain. The bite also produces a small blister surrounded by a large conjested and swollen area. Healing usually takes six to eight weeks and may require plastic surgery to repair.
Help! Call a doctor! Avoid these guys if you can. They, of course are in Texas and especially in the area where Gypsy and I live. We are going to be careful and trust are luck will remain firmly in place and we will not be bitten by anything. We will continue to live with all the critters the best we can. We just hope that when we go to bed tonight we are not thinking about the fact that some people get bitten by these guys when sleeping. Sweet dreams here in the cabin in the beautiful and always interesting Texas Hill Country.

"The Empty Place"

"The Empty Place"
Forty six years
Together Life
A connection
Suddenly gone
Inches away Miles away
Never again
A tribute
"The Empty Place"
Sharing
Future Beats
Fishing Hunting
Eating Sleeping Walking
Watching Dreaming
Driving Flying
Illness Arguments
Family Reunions
Shopping
Grocery Mall Car
Worrying Laughing
Crying Wishing Loving
Content Discontent
Decisions Adventures
Working Playing
Mistakes
Forgetting Remembering
Missing Existing
A heart in the dust
found on the road
by chance
A heart in the ash
Till death do us part
Sharing
"The Empty Place"

"First Texas Hill Country Snow August 2008'

This morning as Gypsy, my 10 year old English Pointer, and I sat down on the cabin porch to ponder the sunrise, we saw small white flakes floating in the air and landing like snow all around us. We thought it looked just like snow, but since it was already 80 degrees we knew it wasn't. What is was was ash from all the fires burning around the Texas Hill Country since we got some desperately needed rain. As the ash gently drifted through the air it landed on the leaves on the trees and plants and the porch and furniture. There was a slight smell of smoke in the air and the distant hills we observe every morning were cloaked in a soft gray smoke. For many months we had been under a burn ban, so many folks took this opportunity to get rid of the brush piles they had created when cleaning up their yards. Everyone pays close attention to burning here because, we are so remote a fire would be devastating. Gypsy didn't mind the white snow flakes and the thin layer of smoke engulfing our small part of the world. We try to enjoy all life offers good or bad. Fall is coming and our days will be cooling after a very hot Summer. There is change in the air as sure as shooten, and we are taking aim on lots of time on the porch on those cool mornings to ponder things like fire ash that looks like snow.
We will continue to embrace what is given and rejoice in our good fortune.

"Dr Evers"

He was the only doctor
in the small Ohio town
where I grew up.
His office was on main street
and was filled
with old beige, metal, painted furniture
that smelled like ether
and other medicines.
It was next to the Princess Theatre
next to the drug store
where my mother bought me
music boxes if
I did not drop
to the floor
kicking and screaming
as soon as we entered his office.
I fought hard not
to get the asthma shots.
Four small viles of medication
were sent to Dr. Evers
every week or so
from my Toledo Ohio
asthma doctor.
The amount of serum
administered increased
with each shot.
The pain also increased.
It was a shot a week to desensitize
me to all the stuff
I was allergic to
including our beloved
cat Butch. Another story.
Dr. Evers had his hands full.
However I never missed a shot.
You see who ultimately won.
It set me up for a lifetime
of dreading visits to the doctor.
Thank you so!
He had a black bag
he carried everywhere with him
that had all his favorite stuff in it.
There was a row of small bottles
filled with all different colored pills.
He had something for whatever
you had wrong with you.
As a small child
it verged on magic.
He always came to the house
when one of us was sick in the
beige, four door Chrysler
New Yorker he purchased
from my father.
He was never in a hurry.
After being sick all night
shortly before I graduated
from high school
my mother called him.
I had been growing sicker all night
and told my mother
I needed help.
He came to the house
checked me out
and said I had appendicitis.
He said my appendix
had to come out right away.
He ask me if I wanted
to go to the hospital
with him or wait for my folks.
I went with him in the beige
four door Chrysler New Yorker.
I remember backing out
our driveway wondering
what was going to happen.
By the time my folks
arrived at Detwiler Hospital
our only one
I was on my way into surgery.
When I woke up it was over.
Dr. Evers came by
the next day
and ask me to get up
and hold onto the bed
and walk around it.
I did and was soon home.
I later went to his
office and had the stitches
taken out.
Most of the stuff like measles, mumps,
colds and stomach ache
we just got over with the help
of some stuff
in a little brown bottle
my mother gave us for everything
called stomach cordial.
When we had measles
she covered the windows with blankets
and made us potato soup
and purple cabbage slaw.
We were lucky we never
had to deal with
polio, scarlet fever or pneumonia.
I remember a house I walked by
on my way to school
that had a sign in front
that said quarantined scarlet fever.
I wondered about that.
Dr. Evers always came
or saw you at his office.
Sometimes he came to the house
in the middle of the night.
He was quiet, understanding
and calm.
He was one of a kind
that has vanished
except in the memories
of his patients.

" A Hammock"

"A hammock" would be nice
here in the woods
in the shade
away from the hot Texas
Summer sun
for lazy afternoons
when cloud watching reigns.
"A hammock"
would give me
an added place
to watch the baby
feral cats born this Spring
to Lucky and Bobtail
the heads of the colony
who will all be
traped, neutered and released.
What kind of hammock
should I get?
What color?
The hooks are
already in the trees
left behind by the folks
who use to live here.
They hold their own story
of past times here.
I work too much anyway.
I need a place to rest.
OK a hammock it is
but wait.
Little did I know
the hammock of my future
was taking shape.
A trip to Joes
my neighbor
to see his beautiful
new stone patio
proved fruitful for me.
As I was admiring
the beautiful stonework
of his patio
he walked over
and much to my surprise
handed me a package.
Low and behold
you will never guess what
it was.
"A Hammock"
which in now
gracing the presence
of the two hooks
on the trees in my yard.
It is white
with yellow and red ropes
to hold it.
Joe came over
to make the knots
to be sure it was secure.
He is a good friend
I am lucky to have.
Ask and you shall receive
a thoughtful neighbor
and "A hammock"

"It's Raining"

"It's raining"
not forecast
cats and dogs
like the past

Lightening
power off on
thunder rumbling
sunshine gone

Cats huddled
high and dry
dog shaking
not a cry

Horizontal rain
wind driven
woods drinking
all given

Grateful all
who receive
grateful all
who believe

Too much
Too little
Flooding drought
Where's the middle?

Rain
In sunshine
Rainbows
So fine

A message
A lark
for all
no ark

Raindrops
Without
We perish
No doubt

Gray clouds
Humidity
It's too hot
A pity

"It's Raining"
Porch popcorn
Kids comic books
Timelessly adorn

Childhood memories
In corn popping
Good times
Never stopping

Remember
The good
Happiness
You should

A past gone
Found again
In popcorn
In the rain

Yea yeas
to recall
these days
Holding all

Flip flop
now then
never stop
Knew when

It's the rain
Catching me
It's to blame
Can you see?

Message found
In the drops
Full of past
Never stops

Poems poems
Grow in the rain
Like grass
Over and over again

"It's raining"
Jump for joy
Love life
Girl or boy

"Writing Makes No Sense"

Someone somewhere may read this
and wonder what it means.
Scorpions don't weigh much.
They will pick apart
each word trying to decide
exactly what they mean;
what I might be trying to say.
Centipedes here are about
the size of a good
Cuban cigar and scarey
when in your shoe!
If the truth were known
which it is about to be
words come so fast
their is no time to think.
Brown Recluse Spiders
hide and make their webs
in the baking dishes
under the kitchen counter.
What have I written?
Does it make sense?
Better if it doesn't.
Snakes hide ubder the rocks
so be careful when you
move rocks. Wear gloves.
There is a road
like the one the moon makes
across the water at night
where the words come from
that find your finger tips.
You can't stop or
you will fall into the water.
The water is dark and cold.
The man in the moon smiles
if the words find a good place.
Lizards hide in Gypsys woodpiles
and are actually quiet beautiful.
Writing is like jumping
off the high diving board.
When you hit the water
the story is done.
Raccoons make a mess of everything.
Sometimes I do to
when I write.
Tarantulas like to sit
on the wood around the garage door.
Their song is echoed from the woods.
The lovely gentle giants.
Opossoms are quiet.
Maybe I should be as well.

"Prepare For Take Off"

Fly the friendly skies
sit back and enjoy the flight.
You went on line and printed
your boarding passes the day
before your plane departed.
Get your points for every mile.
Five am and the airport terminal is buzzing
passengers busy checking in
to fly a goodby to stuff
and hello to a change.
Anticipating business or vacation
at their final destination.
Curb check, kiosk, counter,
hurry, hurry, wait, wait tired,
will sleep on the plane
unless you are like the women next to me
scared speechless finally coming to life
with a smile on her face
as the wheels touched down on the runway.
Suffering the seats that were not
designed for human beings.
Taking off shoes jackets and jewelry
so the buzzers and beepers are quiet
as you pass through security.
Getting wanded because you are
partially made of metal.
Going to the gate
waiting for your boarding number.
Finding just any seat
or the seat you are assigned.
Stowing your carry on items
above and below
inside the long narrow metal tube.
Does everyone have their seatbelts hooked?
Did you watch the stewartess as she
showed you the safety procedures?
Did you know this is a no smoking flight?
If you dislodge the smoke detector in the restroom
they will throw you out!
If we have to evacuate in the water
your seat cushion or life jacket
will be there for you.
Good luck!
But the two front doors
will not be opened,
so don't go the wrong way!
The way is lighted in the plane
if we have to make an emergency evacuation.
You think about how long it took
for everyone to board the flight
and wonder how long it would take
in an emergency to get out?
Coke, coffee, maybe a snack or
a pillow and a blanket?
It'cold on the plane.
The pilots voice comes through the speakers
welcoming you aboard and telling
you Chicago is busy.
We will be delayed for 15 minutes.
He tells you what the weather is there
and that you will be flying at 35,000 feet
Then he comes back again telling
the stewardesses
"To Prepare For Take Off."

Hallelujah Hallelujah. Hallelujah"

Hallelujah, the rains have come to the Texas Hill Country and cooled our 100 degree air and is watering the hot dry countryside. Gypsy and I got up early to the sound of thunder. At first we didn't know what is was, the sound had not found our ears for weeks. Espresso in hand, we headed for the cabin porch. We sat on the porch in the dark with our small lantern burning and watched the lightening and listened to the thunder. We soon found out it was heading our way. The rain drops felt good as they sprinkled us when the wind ahead of the storm blew them against our skin. Hallelujah, it was going to really rain!
First thing I did was rush out and take my Prius (car) out of the garage so the rain would wash it off. I grabed my car washing bucket from the garage, and headed back in the cabin. Now, it was beginning to rain pretty hard Yea! I filled the bucket with hot soapy water and ran in the rain out to my now wet car. Quickly I washed it with the hot soapy water. Then I got in it and drove it around so the rain would hit all of it. Then I drove it back into the garage. With two towels I dried it best I could and wiped out the inside. Good deal, didn't have to waste any well water washing my car, a complimentary wash. Gypsy spent this time in the cabin on her navy blue leather sofa. She is alittle nervous with the lightening and thunder. She told me she would help me wash the car, but this damp weather makes her bad leg really hurt! She would not make up an excuse just to get out of work!
As I was running in and out of the cabin, I noticed several toads had come out of the two white, plastic pipes that run under the stone walk in front of the cabin that runs from the porch to the driveway. I had never seen so many at once. I took a closer look and saw that it was a toad family. The rain drops had sent their soft message telling them of the arrival of the long awaited rain. They were just sitting near the pipes letting the rain drops wash them off. They were happy toads. We were all happy. The rain had brought us these remarkable creatures and we are grateful. Many woods critters will be out enjoying the rain. I wish we could see them all. We hope it rains all day and all night and maybe some tomorrow. We will take all we can get. This event may call for another espresso to celebrate. What a joy to sit on the porch in the rain with Gypsy. She will get an extra biscuit. Getting wet in the rain washing the car or doing anything else is fun. When I was a child, if there was no lightening, I would go outside in the rain and walk through the puddles and follow the little rivers that formed where the cement curb blended to the cement street. There were always fishworms doing the same thing. I could always pretend I had one in my hand and go in the house and scare my sister Nedra. She was really easy. Just a clenched fist sent her screaming to mother, who gave me one of her, stop it looks. A toad would have probably put her over the edge. I should have thought of that.
The day is dark, Gypsy is sleeping and I will continue to observe the rainy day and all it might bring. This is the day we have waited for, now we are going to enjoy it. Hallelujah!
"My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But, ah, my foes, and, oh, my friends-
It gives a lovely light!"
Edna St. Vincent Millay

"Horton Hears a Who"

Faith heals the latch
Heaven is sublime
Cookies come in batches
Life comes in time

Look through the heart
Jesus is best
Free and easy start
Peace, love and rest

Searching endlessly
Wondering why
Life is a mess
This till I die?

Give Jesus a try
He won't let you down
Enter His Word
Put on His Crown

Prayers never die
The Promise the same
His love is no lie
For us He came!

Look not to the world
Easily lost
Its baton twirled
Too high the cost

To sit right
In the saddle
Keep Jesus in sight
Let the Devil skedaddle

Follow His plan
Put the trash
In the can
Protect the stash

The sweaters been knit
Unraveled some
Joy mends the fit
With Him the one

Faith falling free
Lands the lost
Can you see?
Jesus the cost

Don't flounder longer
Stand and be heard
Faith to be stronger
Success in His Word

He believes in you
No matter what you do
You remember Horton
He heard a Who!

"Three Black-capped Chickadees"

Three Black-Capped Chickadees swooped down and landed in my Roy Estes Hibiscus next to my new bird bath in the Angel Patch in Gypsys fenced in area. They were interested in something in the leaves of the hibiscus. Then one by one they made a move towards my new bird bath, but were not interested? By now you are asking " Why does she have a new bird bath?" Well, as things never remain the same from day to day here at the cabin, I will tell you. Recently the raccoons have been visiting us around one or two in the morning. They enter Gypsys fenced area by climbing up the logs near my bedroom window. This is why I know the time of their arrival. I hear the scratchy sound of their little feet on the logs as they transgress into Gypsys area containing the new birdbath and hibiscus. They ravage everything in their path. They had knocked my old bird bath over several times trying to get to an ear of corn nailed on a tree nearby. They probably wanted a drink as well as our drouth is still in progress. While at Home Depot yesterday I ask if they had any bird baths. They did not, so I started to create one from the stuff they had. I found a stand with small round iron legs with holes at the bottom of the legs. It had a plastic plate attached on the top that would hold a bowl. I then found a beautiful pottery bowl. I was sure the birds would like it. I got three 8 inch nails to go in the holes at the base of the legs to pound it securely into the ground. Who is smarter me or the coons? They were not going to knock this bird bath over. I pounded the nails through the holes in the three legs of the base and filled the beautiful pottery bowl with fresh well water. I was sure the birds would like it, and just for good measure put a large rock in the bowl. When I went to bed I said a prayer that this creation would still be functioning in the morning. It was. I watch this area from my perch on the porch as I drink my morning espresso. Well, back to the three Black-Capped Chickadees. They were in the hibiscus and one by one made a sweep towards the new bird bath. They looked it over with mild interest and moved on! I thought the rock in addition to making it heavy against the coons might provide them with a bathing area, but maybe it was scaring them. Perhaps the reflection off the water in the bowl or the bowl was not to their liking? What was wrong? I decided I was going to drink espresso until one landed and atleast got a drink. They just kept swooping down close to it, but not landing on it. Do I just need to be patient? Gypsy snifted it over and gave me her nod of approval. What to do? I will return to my perch tomorrow morning at dawns early light. I can't afford to wait until sun up, I might miss a landing. I must stop obsessingly looking out the window to see if there is a bird on my new bird bath. It's time for breakfast so I will cook a couple nitrate free hot dogs and cover them with sweet pickle relish, raw sweet onions and mustard and catsup. They will be held by a piece of English Toasting Bread. Then, I will finish up with strawberry shortcake mounded several inches high with extra creamy whipping cream. I am sure when I am finished eating I will feel better about my bird bath disappointment. I'm living alone and I like it. Oops, there is Gypsy, who licks our disappointment plates clean.

"They Loved Us"

My parents weren't huggers and kissers,
and rarely if ever, said,"I love you,"
so I learned early on to look beyond
words to know if I was loved.
When I was two or three
and was sick with asthma and
my dad would hold me on his lap for hours
on the old rocking chair
pulled half way over the register
in the livingroom
throwing out heat from the huge coal furnace
in the basement, without words
he was telling me he loved me.
Mother made us clothes from old suits
she bought at the second hand store.
She could not afford to buy new material.
My two older sisters and I were
beautifully dressed. She loved us!
White pique collars, and anchor buttons
adorned the navy blue wool coats we wore.
Our beige cotton thigh high socks
were held in place by garter belts.
We all three vasolined
our black patten leather shoes
after Sunday school and church,
and put them away
in preparation for next Sunday.
However, I think my father
and the three of us
nearly drove her crazy.
She had what they called then
a nervous breakdown.
Eileen, a family friend
came to take care of us kids.
I remember peeking into
the upstairs bedroom where she rested
and wondering if she was going
to get better. I loved her!
After a few weeks she was back
cooking the best fried chicken,
chicken and biscuits and apple pie
in the world. I can still taste it.
She canned all the fresh vegetables
from dads garden. They loved us!
I was my dads Tomboy,
so I was chosen to keep him awake
during church.
Someone figured because
I went hunting and fishing with him
he would not get mad at me.
They were right. He loved me!
There was a war going on
but somehow my dad found
two new Schwinn bicycles.
They were navy blue and red,
the most beautiful bikes
I had ever seen. He loved us!
There was a war on.
My dad walked to work because
gas was rationed and expensive.
My mom fed the five of us
on fifty dollars a week. They loved us!
I found tadpoles in the creek
along the New York Central train tracks
that ran behind the house.
I used them and worms,
I hid in my hands
to scare my sister Nedra.
I loved her!
I watched through the upstairs register
as boyfriends came to see my oldest sister Janice,
and winced if she turned them away
with the candy or other gifts still in their hands.
I loved her!
I wondered if I would ever have a boyfriend.
My sisters told me I was too dirty
and sloppy. They loved me!
We were a family, doing what families do.
Surviving the times whatever they were,
because we had each other.
We walked to and from from school.
The first word out of our mouths
when we got home after school
was "Mom?" She was always there.
They loved us!

"Robert Frost"

In 1956 I was in school
at Ohio Wesleyan University
at Delaware, Ohio.
We had chapel during the week
at 12:15 pm which was manditory.
It was held in the auditorium,
for all students.
They allowed you to be absent
from chapel three times.
I paid a friend I met
who sat in the seat next to me
to sit in my seat,
so I would not be counted as absent.
I don't know what he did,
because he was not in his seat.
Maybe he paid someone as well,
alittle less than what
I was paying him.
I went to the anditorium
for other reasons, like when
Robert Frost came to read his poems.
I was in the front row,
three feet from him.
His voice was clear
and knew exactly
how to read each poem.
He was attached by his
heart strings to his work.
That is how he attached to me
when I read his poems.
Many I memorized
so I could run them over
and over in my mind
when college classes
became boring.
His hair was white
and probably because I was young
he looked old.
I still sit in the front row
and see him standing
in his dark suit and white shirt.
His voice finds my ears
as I wonder how these words
found his voice.
They were so much a part of him.
Times like this were why
I stayed in school
as long as I did.
When I left my sophomore year,
I went to work in the city
and dyed my hair gray.

"Daybreak"

Gypsy and I were sitting on the cabin porch at daybreak. The humidity from Dolly was dripping off the metal cabin roof on to the toe of my deerskin topsiders and into my whip cream laced espresso Vashon Island coffee. The air was cool and the wind out of the south west caressed us with its gentle presence. This is the kind of morning we revel in, just being together in the moments it is occuring is the whipped cream on my strawberry shortcake. By now you know I am addicted to strawberry shortcake, particularly the whipped cream. When the kids were little I use to spray the whipped cream up and down their arms and over each finger. It looked like snow. We then devoured it from our sticky arms and hands laughing it away, sweet memories of days long gone. These are the mornings memories come with the breeze filling our being with the past events that have stayed in place for us to relive. The woods stays quiet giving us this time. These days of our lives we see in colored prints we took with our camera. Everyone remains somewhere in our mind and just needs a morning on the cabin porch to be remembered. I never took a picture that is not still in my film archive, waiting. A record of my life held for me until the woods and the wind clear my thoughts and the pictures appear, like a photo album relinqishing times and places to fill the pages I write. I still see the bushes that grew across the front of my families house in the small Ohio town where I grew up. We use to play hide and go seek, and I hid behind them. There was stucco from the white wood of the house for about three feet to the ground. There was a basement window there as well. It might be the window where the coal shoot was placed to deliver the black, dusty coal for our furnace. One nice thing about coal was the steady heat, no clicking on and off. When I was sick with asthma my dad would hold me on his lap over the downstairs register to keep us warm. See what I mean, can you see the pictures in this childs mind? The photos never go away and will live in the pages I have written when I am long gone. But until then Gypsy and I will return to the cabin porch at daybreak and wait, trying to justify our second island cup of espresso. The picture of the 100 year old island coffee roasterie, home of The Wet Whisker, lingers in my thoughts reminding me of the generations of coffee lovers. My ancestors in Schaffhausen, Switzerland liked to linger over their morning coffee. Son Daniel and I do as well. Your island coffee is on its way.