Today We Pause

 Today We Pause

 

Today, we remember those who laid down their lives for our democracy

our way of life, and Eleanor Roosevelt comes to mind.

She said, “You Must Do The Things That You Think You Cannot Do.”

I’m wearing the shirt with that statement, in my mind, and looking out my window on this rainy morning, thinking about how the garden was a huge sacrifice

Much of my youth was spent pulling weeds, back-breaking work with little yield and much cost.

Now I appreciate the wildflowers fending for themselves with their steely determination.

The way they endure, while vicious and self-serving predators

concerned only with enriching themselves,

bark at and devour what they conceive as low-hanging fruit.

Anyone or anything that refuses to bend to their will.

Lives that mean nothing to them or their cronies.

Lives that sacrificed everything for liberty, GOD, and country

Honorable men and women who served

so that they could climb the ladder of success without so much as a turn of the head or a thank-you. The craven who claims his own orbit.

As if they deserved it. And we didn’t. 

Predators who trample the garden amidst those who continue to tend it, as if all that destruction never happened. The sustaining survivors, rebuilding, sacrificing, sowing hope from tiny seeds. So that we may bring a measure of joy to those who cannot.  The ones who paid and continue to pay, slaving and bowing, and hoping for reason, justice, and sanity. 

 

Retaking A Cognitive Test

 Retaking A Cognitive Test

is not  typical

This test is not about IQ

It’s MoCA, baby. Google it. 

Bragging about it is dumb and concerning. 

Can you draw a clock?

Make the time at ten past eleven

Determine the correct sequence of five numbers and letters starting with A and 1.

Draw a cube  

It’s not about how artistic you are. 

Identify the camel, rhino, and lion

Name the three objects

Remember the words: face, velvet, church, red, and daisy? We will ask you again in five minutes

Count back from 100 in denominations of seven

Say 742 backwards

Can you repeat three sentences after me in varying lengths?

Do you know where you are:

what city, the date, the time, or are you mildly impaired? What was your score? Do you remember? 

 

Paying For The Primrose Path

 Paying For the Primrose Path

 

Basil, mint, and oregano are pungent spices that put off pests like groundhogs.

 Rosemary, Sage, Thyme, 

Lavender, Lemon balm, and Hot Pepper spray are also strong deterrents

 

Nothing seems to daunt a fanatic, though

especially a greedy one, making millions off the taxpayer.

 

And getting away with it.

The President is running a hedge fund out of the Oval Office

60 trades a day in the first quarter of this year. 

750 million so far

Call the FBI,   padlock the door

Vote to ban elected officials from trading stocks.

 

Republicans who make 174,000.00 plus benefits and pensions a year

mutiny over slush fund, immunity agreement

illegal wars, threats against Cuba, and Greenland.

The aftershocks are far-reaching.

Gas prices are higher

Grocery prices are higher

Racism is still a problem

Dismantling the black vote is a problem

Diluting the black voice is a problem

Taking away a woman’s right to choose is a problem

State Legislatures dictate many of our basic rights

Where is our middle ground?

There is no room for sidelines or silence.

Does the people’s voice count when the Supreme Court is allowed to overturn the vote in Virginia?

Is everything by this administration rigged?

Are the midterms rigged?

We are not about hate and vitriol. 

We are not misinformed, stupid, or pests.

Keep Fighting Tennessee

Push Back

We can level the field.

The Blue Wave is Coming

Everyone Must Vote.

The Disgruntled Chef

 The Disgruntled Chef 

 

serves breakfast, brunch, and sometimes dinner.

It is an American/ Asian fusion restaurant in Gardiner and

received a 10+ from our group of nine hikers.

We are a senior, discerning crew, and being raised in New York, we can be a bit loud and frightening at times. Fuhgeddaboudit!

Yesterday, my sandwich choice did not disappoint

I picked the curried chicken wrap

The flavors permeated throughout, and it was visually stunning. 

As a photographer, I should know. (Sorry, no pictures this time.)

My evil twin, aka The Food Critic,

would reluctantly agree. Delicious, timely, and

pet-friendly. The tables were spaced like a well-organized trail map,

with no confusing configurations, and plenty of room to stretch and converse.

I’d go back in a heartbeat. 

I  have one question,

who came up with the name?

 

Trail Mix, Fava Beans, and Lady Slippers

 Trail Mix, Fava Beans, and Lady Slippers

 

All we need is some Chianti

and I’m checking the mileage

like there’s a truck stop up ahead

a place to fill up on fuel and wine.

Only we’re walking here.

We’re walking, and we’re talking

like it’s 1999, Y2K didn’t happen,

and guess what else didn’t:

You got it:

no wine,

no trucks,

no lines,

but I did get a few lady slippers and fava beans

from the Azores. Go ahead—look it up. I’ll wait.

Can I Get A Pass?

 Can I Get A Pass?

 

or a little mercy—

the kind that hushes even the shiver in the leaves.

I’ve been laboring since dawn—

the kind of labor counted in acorns, wind, and worry—

said the squirrel, still a quick brown spark in the branches,

flitting from limb to limb like a thought that would not settle,

and the forest answered him with laughter.

The birds, being birds, turned mockery into song—

a bright unruly weather of chirps and shining eyes,

as though all spring had been a rehearsal

for the sweet small privilege of teasing a squirrel.

Hershel sighed for a holiday.

Sally, meanwhile, wanted one as well—

preferably with cake and a patch of afternoon sun,

which seemed, for squirrel ambition, almost courtly.

You’re nuts,

said one voice, and not with kindness enough to make it praise.

Ask again in five minutes, when hunger comes back wearing its old crown.

We all have a stake in this—

if not in heart, then surely in bark and timber.

Then even the deer and mountain lions lost their solemn manners

and laughed as though some ancient burden had skipped them for a day,

and even the trees leaned softly into the joke,

bending in the breeze with that old wooden laughter

that begins in the leaves and ends in the smallest wheeze.

So there it was—

a brief and shining mercy, dressed up as a punchline.

 

 

 

The Power of Story

 The Power of Story

 

We each have one.

It defines who we are,

shaping our day-to-day

in a profound way.

Our stories travel with us.

They thread their way

through our lives,

follow us down paths,

to the right and left,

guide our steps,

while our dreams lean ahead.

Our stories are fledglings,

small birds learning the air,

on their own

into the great wide world

to be interpreted by people

who will add, subtract

and make them their own. 

 

Stories stitched into patterns

of color, history, and skin

changing faces

leaving traces

of greatness from above.

They will explore the vastness

of space

travel to other worlds

throw stones at what they fear

take what is not theirs to study,

then form conclusions,

acting on limited knowledge,

from fragments they mistake for truth,

and then retell the story.