The little things

It's the smallest of things, that can have the greatest impact at times.

I was reminded of this, last Sunday.

While at the "Flea" ( Ceasar Creek Flea Market) selling those wonderful nuts that we make. A very timid, elderly woman approached my counter saying "Excuse me ma'am, but are you, by any chance, the same nut vendor that use to be in that location?", as she pointed to a booth just down the aisle from me. I said sure, but that was a few years ago. It was then that I noticed a wonderful smile spread across her face, that just beamed. And she proceeded with "You probably won't remember me, but.... and she then went on to tell the events of a day at the Flea, two and a half years ago. I just gasped and said "Yes, yes! I remember you!

It all started with a very hot day. The Flea was booming with crowds of people. And their were new vendors next to me that day. You see, some vendors are permanant, some just come to sell their wares for the weekend. Anyhow, I introduced myself and looked over their items for sale. Mainly clothes, and odds and ends. And as the day went on, we chatted about little things, like where were the best food booths and such. But the business of the day is keeping focused on the customers, and selling. And we did.

Later in the afternoon, I heard the eldery woman calling out, her husbands name, and it got louder, above the noise of the crowd. I rushed to the side of my booth and their was her husband slumped over just about to fall to the pavement, when I reached over a small fence that separated our areas, and grabbed him and steadied him on the chair. The rest is more like a blur, but I remember the lady saying he had heart problems. I knew a little about such things and asked if he had Nitro pills, yes was her response, I held his head up so she could give him the pills.

Here I was, on my tip toes bent over a fence holding this mans head, talking to him to get him to respond. I couldnt let go or he would surely fall and hit his head. I tried to do what I could. Loosening his shirt collar, etc. without loosing my hold on him. By now vendors had contacted security and the EMT's and they were there in just minutes. I explained what all had taken place.
He was placed in the ambulance and whisked away to the hospital, his wife in tow.

Wow, what a wild experience. But here it is at the end of the day and vendors are closing up their areas. I see the elderly couples wares, still where they left them. As if it is some unspoken code of vendors I do believe, a few of us, carefully packed up their things and put them away on their trailer, tarping it just in case of rain.

I always wondered what had happened to the nice elderly man. And now I was going to find out.

This woman told me that he had a heart attack and been dead for 6 minutes, before they revived him in the ambulance. He survived but continued to have medical problems following this attack. We chatted a little more and she explained that she had not been back to the Flea since then, until today.

Then is when the most impacting thing I had experienced in a long time unfolded. You see, she had stopped by to see me, and to thank me. Thank me? I thought. I was just a helping hand in the events of that day.

And as I stood their looking at this smile on the womans face, two younger ladies walked up to us. She said to them, "Let me introduce you to the lady that helped your father, the day he had his heart attack at the Flea Market." This young woman , with her daughter at her side, thanked me so much for being there to help her father, and they were all grateful to still have him and expressed that I was part of the reason for that. The mans daughter showed me a picture on her cell phone of the two of them hugging. I was almost in tears by now and speechless. The three woman, saying thanks once again, wished me well and went on their way.

I stood there for a few minutes longer, still speechless. When it  came to mind that  this woman wasn't sure if I would remember her or her husband, all the while I was so shocked that she remembered me.

It's the little things, isn't it? That get you.

A Path of Words

This is a little something I wrote a long time ago. Even entered it in a contest.
Didn't win, of course, but felt some accomplishment in just entering.

It was the first time I ever let anyone read anything I have written, that I didn't know.

I was so afraid that someone might say. "Oh my", how horrible. Or maybe something even worse, and it would just devastate me to the point I would never write again..... that would be how I would handle it, back then.

But now, being a little older, and hopefully wiser, I will just step over something like that, just like you step over a bump in your path.

A Path Of Words

While embracing each moment, like a life that is new.

Search out the things that were spoken, before you.

And you'll know it is wisdom to look to the past.

To see what time reveals, as to the things that will last.

For surely it's moved men thoughout all the ages.

And brought strength to the people, in history's pages.

It's the hint of something of value worth saving.

In the stream of mere voices, and all they're saying.

That which brings peace to the chaos for many a nation.

While all around hatred, and anger still rages.

In looking you'll see a clear path that's unbroken.

Formed by the words of hope, already spoken.

A parti in my bed...

Not this kind of party.

Well, let me explain

I have thought long and hard about what makes me happy, and laugh out loud consistently. Not talking about the occasional brief moment, that just refreshes and then quickly fades. And forgotten just as quickly.

This is about those things that happen in just a moment, but the joy lingers. The laughter rekindles throughout the day, and puts a smile on my face that no one else quite understands.
It starts out like this.....

It's usually early morning, around the same time every day.Seventhirty'ish or so,
the blankets start moving. Slowly of course, to begin. It's time for everyone to wake up....

The blankets are pulled this way, then that. Just little tugs at first.
Now I am starting to get serious, because it's time to get down to business, as far as I am concerned.
You see, I don't have to much time in the morning to be playing around. Work to be done, etc...

Thats when all the fooling around begins.

I prop a pillow perfectly in place, and teasingly it's pulled away and tossed on the floor.

I pull the sheets up, they are immediatly pulled down.

Then the giggling starts in, and things get really out of control. Now comes the "Stop that!", "Give me this.", "Let me have that." and "You are in so much trouble." and so on..

And as quickly as it all started, it's over.

I throw my arms over my head, just as it hits the bed in exhaustion.  And I sigh.
My laughter then starts to fill the room, I am rewarded with kisses all over my face.

It's the affection of "Fancy" and "Suitor", my two black and white Parti Schnauzers.

You see, every morning without fail. I make my bed. And somehow they have seemed to turn it into a game that they enjoy very much. Being schnauzers, they are determined that I will not make them jump off the bed, the whole time I am trying to make it. Even physically removing them, results in a fast as lightening leap right back on it.

I get so tickled by it all. And I am sure it is funnier to see, than to read about. Kinda the reason for the angle to this story.

This is what makes me laugh out loud, each and every day.

Taking a break...

Today I am taking a small break. Just a wee one should do.
From what you might ask? Almost everything.

I am sighing, and focusing just to keep from not taking a break.

My life this past week has been like a potluck dinner, where everyone brought the same thing. And It was your most least favorite dish. Imagine that!

---------------------- insert whatever it is that you would never want brought to your potluck dinner. That was my week.And it was hominy cassarole, every day. Acky!

So for a break.... I will think of something pleasant. Even lovely perhaps.
Such as beautiful mornings, with the sun shining, the birds singing and the blossoming trees of early spring. And the ever so lovely quietness, just right before the busyness of the day begins.

Those are the moments, when I can breath.
And think.

In this, ever so brief moment today, remebrance of my mothers hands, as she planted geraniums come to mind. She would be carefully, and diligently be preparing the pots, the soil and arranging the plants.... and ever so much more.

My mother had the most beautiful hands, especially when in motion. She was one of those people who talk with their hands often, worked hard with her hands, and produced the most beautiful music with them.I wrote this for her a long time ago.

Unfortunately she never read it, she has been gone a long while.

Hands In Motion

Hands in movement, produce an image.

A language so profound

Working, shaping, molding and making.

Rebuking in their shaking.

Proclaiming in their raising.

Safety when their yeilding.

Patiently waiting while folded, all the while

holding the potential blessing for a child.

Searching while turning pages.

Carrying promises through the ages.

Clasped, holding hope while in prayer.

Greeting while waving in the air.

Bearing frustration in a clenched fist.

A joyful flip, while the jest.

Still, only in moments of rest.

Trying to fast forward

Having a day off from work can be such a blessing. Much needed rest and relaxation, and a little bit of writing perhaps,..... right?

After my one and a half cups of coffee ( I am allowed only that much, I prefer to drink it all day) , I depart to my back patio to have some quiet time to sit and maybe try to blog a little. After settling in my chair , I turn my radio on to one of my favorite stations and set about the business of enjoying my day, my way.

It's a beautiful morning after all. The sun is shining brightly, and the birds are singing. All the while my adorable dogs are playing.... and just as I begin to think how fortunate I am to have such a day for just me and what I want to do.... I hear the buzzzzzzzing.... much like the sound of a 747 diving straight at me... it's the wood boring bees. Its a common problem here, living in a wood sided house.

I can handle this, just let me get my faithful swatter and get back to my day, my way.

Well, it seems that sometime between last summer and now, i have misplaced my favorite swatter. It's so cute too. It has a big fake flower in pinks and yellow on it. I bought it purposely to keep it from looking too much like an instrument of destruction. Appearances are everything on my patio. You will find out more about my patio later.

Note to self, get new swatter. And surely one bee can't be that distracting you would think? Well it truley wasn't, it was the other 20 or 30 that showed up in just minutes.  Buzzing all around the patio, maybe they didn't like my music selection. Turning the radio off in the hopes they, the intruders in to my day, would just fly away and go find some flowers or something else to bother. It was then that out of the corner of my eye.... I seen flashes of fur running at top speed, leaping high in the air..... "Oh my!" came out of my mouth as I shot from my chair... the dogs were chasing the bees, and trying to eat them, and at the same time the bees were chasing the dogs. And I, the dutiful owner of these dogs, was defenseless. No instrument of destruction with in reach, only my laptop, and my cell phone.

All too valuable to waste trying to swat at bees, and probably useless.

This was a no win situation, so calling the dogs inside and grabbing my things, we retreated to the indoors. So back to trying to write a few lines anyway.

Settling down to write, for the second time today and wouldn't you know it. The phone rings, answer that call, then the puppies start fighting. Take care of that. Manfriend is home for lunch, and I need to use his vehicle to do some banking, and have to take him to work, drop him off, then off to do the banking, and then surely, I will have time to write.

Well, to make the rest of this entry much shorter than it actually played out, I spent most of the afternoon trying to get from place to place, with a vehicle that would refuse to start, unless I gave it a 10 minute rest between stops. Talk about a fickle truck.

It's now time to pick up manfriend ( I know it sounds silly, but I have trouble calling him my boyfriend, significant other or that guy I'm living with) and help fix supper, laundry and all those dutiful, time consuming things one does... then eat.

Now its time to feed the dogs, and take a shower. By now exhaustion has set in, and I say goodnight and go watch a movie,or at least the first 10 minutes before falling asleep.

This was my day yesterday.. and it didn't go my way.

Oh yeah, today is almost a rerun of yesterday.. I'm trying to fast forward to a better day, to write something interesting ..

Long time coming...

Last night, my middle son Thomas stopped by to see me. Always a nice thing when your grown children just drop by to say, hey!

As we were talking and catching up on things, I decided to tell him that I had started a blog and and asked if he wanted to look it over. Of course he did. Such a dutiful son you might think, but I knew he was very curious and suprised.

It was amazing to watch him read and smile. Then he lifted his head and tilted it ever so slightly, and said, "so you have found a place for them." He was referring to all those things I had written long ago and put in journals, and on pieces of paper and tucked away in a boxes.  You see, back in the day, I wrote alot, and shared these things with a few of my close friends on very rare occasions. But my middle son, Thomas, was my witness to all of my writings. He inspired much of it, as did my other sons Joshua and Timothy.  And so many of my friends and family.

You see, these things I have written, have sat lying in wait for a long time, for just the right time. And maybe this is it. A long time coming, so to speak.

So here is my written thoughts on writing, that was put into words a  long time ago.

All About Me...

Iv'e written before, in a time that seems past, only a few know that.
As I answer the call to write, at long last.

The pen and the paper, will show in the ages, when my time here, is recorded on pages.
Just when my life, has reached the right stages.

A holder of poems, and riddles and rhymes, that don't seem to be mine,
are released so perfectly, at just the right time.

I will be a world traveler, though I stay in one place.
It's the things that I write, that will run the good race,
while the image of me that is seen, will leave but a trace.

So how do I see hope in this task you might ask?,
It's know my purpose for writing, at long last.

It's been a long time coming.

Have you ever been so full of something? Anything?

After weeks of thought about how to begin blogging. I drew a blank.

You see, I haven't a grand journey set before me to write about. And no extraordinary past to put into words either. So that left me with the present.

With my fingers held just high enough above the keyboard, to keep from typing just anything that I might be thinking. There were my hands, shaking. I absolutely had no idea what I should name this blog, or even write about. Then I remembered that some time ago, I used to write things that would just come to me. Sometimes silly things, fun things and maybe a few thought provoking things. Maybe I should start there. At least it sounds like a good idea now. Guess we will see, as this progresses.

Now I am sitting here thinking out loud to myself, that this could be ugly. Sorta like when you put too many different spices in the chili, and when you finally sit down to eat, it is such an overload to the taste, that you just want to spit it out.

So I think it best to keep it simple, for now. Facts are usually simple, right?

Here are the facts just about me:

1. No formal education here, just the average high school diploma. Yeah.

2. English was not my best subject in school, doodling at the edges of the paper was much more fun. I forgot to mention, grammar was a mystery to me, and still is.

3. I love run on sentences, it's like the recess of writing.

4. My spelling is awful at times, but I can usually get my thoughts across anyway.

5. Writing things that rhyme, make me feel balanced

*You have been warned in advance.

So full of this, So full of that comes from a silly thing I wrote about a long time ago. And it started with a childhood memory, something like this:

While attending many church meeting with my Grandmother. I recall seeing older women wearing the most strange and unusual hats. It was a mystery to me, being a child, as to why there were all these things , on their hats. Almost as if it was some kind of collection of valuables they were keeping, right there for all to see, on top of their heads. Much like a crown, of sorts.  But, of course, I never asked why, but always thought about those unusual hats.

Mattie's Hat

The bric-a-brac of Mattie's hat,

so full of this, so full of that.

Flowers, tinsel, and ribborn worn.

Bows and bobbles, and lace thats torn.

Worn with pride, and placed with care,

a Royals crown, was no more fair.

Than the bric-a-brac of Mattie's hat.

So full of this, so full of that.