Superstitious…Nah!

 

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Friday Morning-Coming Down

© Jeanne E Webster

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Enjoying a swing on the patio

Sitting in our little “Rose Garden”

Looking at that pale blue sky

Rain’s a no-show, I’ll pardon

.

Blurred with white chalky scrapes

Overhead is a see-through image

Last night’s leftover half-moon

Must ’a lost the rest in scrimmage

.

Hummingbirds all a’ squeak

A winged rush hour traffic jam

Zooming like mad robotic bees

Deftly loving the ambrosial jamb

.

Gum trees shake off their sleep

Casting shade all over the hills

Cicada males not yet awake

Dreaming of their mating shrills

.

Melodious call of an oriole male

Not yet sipping of my nectar

Crepe myrtle in fuchsia regalia

Rose petals, the sun rays detector

.

A blue jay is squaring off afar

Probably out protecting his mate

Neighborhood roosters a’ crowing

Pleased that the night did vacate

.

A dull thumping of railroad cars

Mulishly moving down the tracks

Loaded with sooty coal, I guess

Heading up north, a’ clickity-clack

.

A hummer just flew past my nose

Stopped on a dime then returned

Saw my bright red shirt, I reckon

Inching closer, drooled and yearned

.

Ready to propel even closer now

Till I uttered, “I don’t think so!”

Off it flew with a squeak and snip,

In a blaze of its slinky chapeau

.

Bathed my two Cavalier Spaniels

Got my front end as wet as they

But I can’t run around the yard

And shake off and loudly bray

.

Certainly I knew I had better not

What would the neighbors think?

An old lady romping with dogs

Surely needs to visit a shrink

.

But when those baths are done

Oh, to become a little girl again

I’d chase my tail and play dog

Bark and run after the mailmen

.

I’d dance the day away… maybe

But I’m afraid this tired ole body

Would give out fast and furious

Put me to bed with a hot toddy

.

My knees would grate and grit

My hips would start to grumble

The hard ground would beckon

And I’d surely take a tumble

.

But jes’ for the tiniest moment

I would be all tickled and pink

For I’d soon be soaring home

In just about forty odd winks!

God, Ain’t Love Grand?

©Jeanne E Webster

She lays sleeping, her chest heaving up and down, sometimes pausing, sometimes hurrying, once in a while skipping out of sync.  That’s my girl, Misty, my friend of seven years– since I helped her mother birth her that early morning so long ago.  She came out all slobbered up with slimy stuff and looked like a heaved-up lunch that hadn’t digested well.  As she entered my world, I cleaned off her nose and mouth so she could grab some air into her lungs.  She was not quite free from the womb when she let out a feeble howl, sounded like a wolf cub howling at the moon.  Then she searched frantically for the teats; she was hungry.  That was my girl, Misty, a black & tan Cavalier King Charles spaniel. 

I hadn’t intended to keep her but as things worked out, that’s what happened.  I sold her to a person 350 miles away, met her halfway, turned around and drove back home with a heavy heart.  You see, I had trained her to be a little girls’ dog, which got to sleep on the bed, play gentle like, and be that little girl’s best friend.  She ended up being my best friend.  Two weeks later, I got a call—the girl was allergic to dogs and we were looking at a refund.  I brought Misty back home and we’ve never parted since. 

Now I look down upon her sweet little face and I see the wee one I reared so long ago.  But only for a moment.  Now she has a heart problem, takes medicine twice a day, walks slowly since suffering a stroke 2 months ago, has a balance problem and her right side is discombobulated.  Her muzzle is graying and kind of crinkled up on one side, allows for drooling.  But she’s still my girl.  She peers at me like I am a stranger, yet she always did love anyone who would pet her or give her a treat.  Her mother died only a month ago of heart failure but I don’t think she misses her.  The stroke left her missing a few cylinders. 

I look at her and my own limitations pounce forth into my mind.  I too am aging, have curbed eyesight, loose teeth, hearing constraints, arthritic limbs, and a slight heart problem.  We’re joint heirs in this life.   My thoughts dwell on my final days ahead and I know the Lord has prepared an angel to walk with me to shore up my failings.  I’ll be there for Misty when she enters into her final rest, just like I did a month ago with her mother.  We sat up all night, Lacey and me, talking and petting, crying and smiling, wishing and praying… till it was time   .   .   .    and I’ll be there with Misty too, even though it’ll break my heart again.  But that’s life .   .   .and love.

Friday Morning-Coming Down

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

©Jeanne E. Webster

~

Enjoying a swing on the patio

Sitting in our little “Rose Garden”

Looking at that pale blue sky

Rain’s gone now, I’ll pardon

~

Blurred with white chalky scrapes

Overhead is a see-through image

Last night’s leftover half-moon

Must ’a lost the rest in scrimmage

~

Hummingbirds all a’ squeak

A winged rush hour traffic jam

Zooming like mad robotic bees

Deftly loving the ambrosial jamb.

~

Gum trees shake off their sleep

Casting shade all over the hills

Cicada males not yet awake

Dreaming of their mating shrills

~

Melodious call of an oriole male

Not yet sipping of my nectar

Crepe myrtle in fuchsia regalia

Rose petals, the sun rays detector

~

A blue jay is squaring off afar

Probably out protecting his mate

Neighborhood roosters a’ crowing

Pleased that the showers did vacate

~

A dull thumping of railroad cars

Mulishly moving down the tracks

Loaded with sooty coal, I guess

Heading up north, a’ clickity-clack

~

A hummer just flew past my nose

Stopped on a dime then returned

Saw my bright red shirt, I reckon

Inching closer, drooled and yearned

~

Ready to propel even closer now

Till I uttered, “I don’t think so!”

Off it flew with a squeak and snip,

In a blaze of its slinky chapeau

~

Bathed my two Cavalier Spaniels

Got my front end as wet as they

But I can’t run around the yard

And shake off and loudly bray

~

Certainly I knew I had better not

What would the neighbors think?

An old lady romping with dogs

Surely needs to visit a shrink

~

But when those baths are done

Oh, to become a little girl again

I’d chase my tail and play dog

Bark and run after the mailmen

~

I’d dance the day away… maybe

But I’m afraid this tired ole body

Would give out fast and furious

Put me to bed with a hot toddy.

~

My knees would grate and grit

My hips would start to grumble

The hard ground would beckon

And I’d surely take a tumble

~

But jes’ for the tiniest moment

I would be all tickled and pink

For I’d soon be soaring home

In just about forty odd winks!

 

~

Dog Flu–Baby Birds–And Such

Army Sgt. William A. Peyton, Jr. a JDOG dog ha...

Image via Wikipedia

 

We are having a teaser day, where the middle of February psyches the body into thinking it is spring already. It’s 70°, the sun is shining and the wind is blowing moderately. We’ve swept the bird seed leavings off the patio from the winter feeders dropouts, picked up the neighbor’s paper products that have flown so willingly into our back yard and nested in each crevice available, disposed of the four-month long dumping of recycled dog food, finally put the Halloween scarecrow back up in the barn loft and are making our list and checking it twice from the seed catalogs. A day like this is hard to part with, and I’m sure that we will have to do in another day or two. Rain is on the way also which will dampen the fields and ease up the “no burn” orders emanating from the city offices. This winter has been very kind, gifting us with enough snow to pamper us into humming “I’ll be home for Christmas.” Santa was able to make it down most chimneys and not too many houses burned down due to dried out trees.

The flu season has arrived and downed me with a moderate dose of its infectious dribbling, coughing and sneezing. I do not receive flu shots anymore due to an allergic reaction a few years ago so I wait it out and make sure my husband gets his shot. The vaccines developed these days are supposed to do the trick, whatever the trick is. Some folks still end up getting a flu of some kind, due to the fact there are hundreds of viruses out there and only a few vaccines to prevent some of them from harming us.

Any dog owners out there? I hope your veterinarian has informed you that there is a dog flu out there waiting to pounce on your dog. If you’ve heard that then you were probably advised to get your pooch a flu shot. My first reaction to the advice was that it was a scam to boost up the tab. No! It’s the real thing and is spreading to most of the lower 48 States. This dog flu is rather nasty and can severely harm or kill older dogs and puppies. My two girls got their shots and will do so every winter, as they have heart conditions and getting older. So far the cats get off scot-free. I think. Since I’m a dog lover, I think that’s profiling. But then again, who asked me?!

An update on our baby cockatiels: we’re up to two hatched babies. Jake and Molly are feeding them and have turned out to be quite proficient parents. There is one more egg to hatch, which should be tomorrow. I think I hear cheeping inside, so I’ll say there will be another egg hatching tomorrow. The first one hatched Saturday and is much bigger than the #2 baby. He or she is huge! Remember that little cotton ball image I mentioned? It is up to a golf ball size! Number 2 is in the cotton ball stage. I hope the latter guys can catch up with the monster. He has a big head start. More news as it comes.

I’m planning on shrimp for supper so had better go get it readied. A nice tossed salad with it and some spicy rice will top it off nicely. A good evening to you and we’ll see you tomorrow. ~shalom

But I Could Catch the Biggest Bull Frogs

La vierge aux raisins

Image via Wikipedia

© Jeanne E. Webster

Thank you, Lord, for Mom and Dad,
My angelic grandma I loved so
Abundant sustenance all my life;
Safe environments in which to grow.

I appreciated my brothers and sisters
Though we fought like cats and dogs
We played and wrestled and got dirty;
I could catch the biggest bull frogs.

You gave me a sound body and mind
I learned well to read and write
Mostly I behaved quite proper;
A few wrongs but tried to do right.

Summer time we got rounded up
One year for that Bible school
Met this gentle young man, Jesus,
Who taught me the Golden Rule.

He’s led me down life’s pathway
Soothed my heart and hell-bound soul
Cleaned me up one side and another;
Dug me out of that dark, deep hole.

The loving heart you gave me, Lord,
I used for lost sisters and brothers
That forgiving spirit was harder to bear;
But you said we should love one another.

Oh, the wisdom in that there Bible
The tools for us to use in our lives
I’m finding new ones most everyday;
‘specially joys from just being alive.

A thankful heart and loving spirit
Is my offering, Lord, back to you
Reflecting a happier way of life,
And a heart that’s tried and so true.