Shelter

There's been a lot of talk lately about the importance of families eating dinner together.

Always I am transported back to the kitchen table in Hinkletown, seven of us gathered around the table, bowls and platters of food heaping the center - usually containing something like creamy mashed potatoes, with a big dollop of butter melting down the sides and a liberal sprinkling of pepper. And of course meat, fried, sauteed, simmered, roasted - always super tender and gravied.
And vegetables from the garden - fresh, frozen, canned. And desserts - pies, puddings, cookies, cakes.

But all that, despite its mouth-watering goodness, was incidental to the conversation. Make that, bombardment of words! Everyone was eager to chime in about his or her day. It was a challenge to be heard. More of a challenge not to be mocked by my all-knowing elder sibs. But it was a family forum. If you had issues with your teacher - always the teacher side would be taken. "what did you say?" What were you doing at the time?" Always a different perspective was brought out. We vented jokes, resentment, hardships, achievements, - all the stuff of life got tossed into the family fire. Insignificance evaporated, gold remained. The day could be shelved now that it was shared.

Today's accelerated schedules have families eating, sharing, musing on the run. That can work too.

 But there is something irreplaceable about laying down baggage before a group of inspectors who love you and who motion you safely through that day's security check.

the link

My Pakistani hair stylist believes the mind controls the body. If you meditate deeply you can purge yourself of illness of the heart and flesh. I love the way her eyes sparkle and how she believes.

And while I truly agree that there is an element of truth there, her philosophy when followed through to the end, quickly leads one down the path to a dimly lit childhood room where neighbors sobbed over a damaged child who was to be healed that day and wasn't.

Who was the culprit who didn't have enough faith?

 Lord, is it I?

On the road again

Picture it. Road trip in the 1950's. Family car full of  4-5 children (depending on who got bribed to stay home) and two parents. No a/c.  Snacks like chips and pretzels. Thus water - in a thermos jug with a spigot and a top cap-cup which we all drank from with one accord.

And for entertainment? We played the Alphabet Game, scanning billboards (remember them), advertisements, license plates, place names, business signs, anywhere letters were lurking was fair game, until you reached the end and shouted "Z done!" Loudly. The Q, X and the Z were the toughies, and J was no easy get either. I remember in a bleak prairie stretch I snatched a J from a passing Henry J and was jubilant! Quaker State Motor Oil gas stations were our friends.

Or we played the Animal Game. Yes, that's right, we counted animals. Most four-legged critters had a value of 1, but dogs were 5 and cats were worth 20 lovely points - if my distant memory serves me. And if you came to a graveyard on your side (you had to pick a side at the start) you had to "bury" all your animals and start over. These were the big times.

Or we sang. Lots. Within the car most likely we had four-part harmony and it was lovely.

Or we played Twenty Questions or other mental guessing games.

And sometimes - if we were lucky, we hit along the wayside, a series of  rectangular signs that contained a little poem and the end sign which read Burma Shave. I never knew anyone who used Burma Shave, but it has a warm spot in my heart always for the sprouts of laughter it brought along life's highways. Two I always can remember

A man, a miss
A car, a curve
He kissed the miss
And missed the curve
Burma Shave.

and

Cattle crossing
Please go slow
That old bull
Is some cow's beau,
Burma Shave.

There were no CD's, DVDs, smart phones, iPads, Kindles - no one was plugged into his or her own electronic world. The time traveling on those four tires was shared. And yes of course from time to time there was bickering, "picking on (fill in the blank)", irritable, hot, sweaty, tired, hungry people ---- but for many more miles we played together.

 I would just like to return for just one sweet draught of that simplicity.

better boring

Freddy Falooting Frog
Hated to sit on a log
So he hopped on out
To a crocodile snout
Now Freddy is no more!

Heavenly

Sunday morning
Russian choral music
swept clear
a path to God.

Conestoga yearning

This winter morning,
Harris Teeter's mint
stood at attention,
each delicately veined leaf
beckoning.
Sure it was
$2.29 for a small bunch,
but what a bargain
for the deep inhalation
of meadows.