Cyber-Monday

I am still not the best out there on the internet.
My buying skill is better than my finding skill.
I can't seem to find exactly what I'm looking for
no matter how much detail I add. I do think of myself
at times, dumb as a post...as my dad used to say.
So all those out there spending millions seem to know
their way around cyper-land better than I. I'm the
grandma that signs lol thinking it means lots of love.
What the hell does it mean? I forgot.
I'm also the grandma that finds one letter words is
a way to get out of spelling, a way NOT to think.
But I do love those one-line interchanges of friends
and family that are nothing but funny.
So on Cyber-Monday I'm aware of my meager internet knowledge,
my lack of speed in traveling through cyber-space,
my endless curiosity and endless information out there to
satisfy it, if only I can find just the right word
to find just the right bit I'm looking for.
I hooked up my new printer, a little shakey by the time
I'd followed all programmed instructions, hoping I'd done
it right and the thing works.
And laughed when my husband came in with his new battery
charger saying, "You can't just turn it on anymore and
have it work...it's a damn computer!" Will everything
turn into a computer? Thank God our pre-school kids
are computer savvy, or what would they do?
It's us old ones that are brain dead.
I'm hoping to look ahead for a better day
next Cyber-Monday.

Lighting Ceremony

My granddaughter sang a solo "O Come All Ye Faithful"
at the lighting ceremony at the St. George Temple.
It was hauntingly beautiful. I was so touched.
So many came, all with children of all ages,
braving the unusual cold.
And I thought of the terrorist caught
trying to blow up the families in Seattle
at the tree lighting ceremony there.
The FBI were undercover and worked with
this guy who thought he was setting off a bomb.
All parts were in place, the truck, the fuel,
and the caps, fake, so they could take this guy
into custody. If he wasn't caught what could be..
whole families being blown away
while at a tree lighting ceremony.
I blessed homeland security.
as I watched the colored lights appear all around
in a dance of color and the children "oooooo"
in appreciation. A wonder of delight.
My family is safe.

For Floyd

I was thinking last night about Maude R.
and all her struggles...and many deathbed scenes.
She was in a great panic for some time, calling
everyone to her bedside. She very nearly died
a couple of times. And then one morning, she
woke up calm. I wrote this poem about that.
Maybe Floyd would like it.

BURNING WITH A SPIRITUAL FIRE

I thought at first
that I was different
because of the long,
near-death spell,
feeling changed
by her struggle
and wnderful
human courage,
myself somehow touched.

She acted normal.
Knitted booties,
visited the same as usual
except...
The fear was not there.
Her calm was so deep.

I watched her, fascinated.
Her valiant struggle to
again get up and walk.
I shared my excitement of
swimming a mile at forty,
comparing it to her coming
from death to walk.
Laughing, I teased her
coming back from the dead.

"Ann, I cant walk.
I'm better, but I can't get up.
I can't put that burden on
you and Rhoda. I feel myself slip
and I know this is the way
to help you.
I won't come home again,
except for a day."
She said it calmly, without panic.
Again there was this feeling.

She was on a mission, maybe that's it.
She was a missionarey in the nursing home.
What is it about her?
She has moved beyond.
Did Death singe her? Is it death?
No...the thought hit me.
Moses in the Ten Commandments
was singed with a spiritual fire.
Had Maude come from death
burned with a spiritual fire?
The thought was ridiculous.
I brushed it away.

Every day it returned, persisted.
She had been touched.
She had become in her fight
with death, a spiritual person.
I don't know that she knew it.
I don't know that I understand it.
For the first time, I had insite
the Red Sea actually did open and
people walked across the bottom
on dry land.
Jesus Christ did on water
and raise the dead.
Men have been changed to
living spirits in a twinkling
of an eye.

The spirit of this woman
that I knew so well had changed.
I saw it every day. She was herself,
somehow brighter, deeper.
Mrs. Dewey saw it in her courage.
Thella struggled to tell her how
her attitude about being
in the nursing home had changed
them both.
Thella said, "You're more perfect now."

There was a miracle in her,
a lack of fear, more wise,
more caring. She changed
from one state to another
and that was marvelous in itself.

Marge, you can print it off if you want.
I don't know if you remember my poetry book
about Maude Living With The Grim Reaper.
The deathbed scenes are there as well as this
on is there. I found this poem
the middle of the night, thinking it might
help Floyd.

Modern technology

I am always behind with technology.
You out there have been doing
conference calls for years, but
I just did my first last night for a
library board meeting.
It went very fast, as you don't seem
to linger on the phone and we were done
in 25 minutes. Amazing!
It took an hour in person...people tend to visit.
My very accomplished neice attended
the school board meeting for 4 l/2 hours.
The agenda was long. Wonder what a
conference would do for them...as someone
always has to travel some distance.
It couldn't be done? Those meetings are long.
Cheryl taught me how to post a picture on FB.
She brought me back my book that she put on her
book printing program. Her cousin has been reading
my book...I so appreciate their work.
I so appreciate their work.
She said I should get a program
where I can call and see my grandkids
as I talk. What is next?
Oh, that's old too? I don't even
want to hear what's NEW.

Last flowers of Fall

These are the last blooming flowers of fall.
I can't remember the name,
but they seem to fit as winter comes on
and people drop away.
The time to take stock..
the blooming of final gatherings
of those gone...leaving families
to mourn, assess their loss,
and somehow move on.
Janet and Rick and Donald
seem too young to go, but
they are gone.
Floyd hangs on hoping for a bit more time.
We look at our own lives and possible deaths
and speculate, wondering if we have done
what we can do, need to do, want to do.
Take stock before we also move on.
Birth brought us here screaming...
Will Death take us there screaming?
We all hope that our time will come
in the natural way..and there will be no
younger person moving on too quickly.
That we will go first before our children.
and wait for them there.
Grandmas? Are you there, waiting?
I hope so. I look at this last bloom
of summer and hope we leave behind
a touch of beauty before we fall.

Linda's Artwork

All these paintings are old..
done in a moment in time.
I like them just the same,
part of my decor. She moves on
with sculpturing the poets of S.F.
with numb hands. How does she do that?
You can see her work on he website
on FB under Linda King.
She just had a show
but can't let us know just how it went.
Her computer is down. What did we do
without computers? We can't live without pictures.
Need them. So we wait. In the meantime
enjoy these works of art. Dad. Mom.
Sort of herself. Maybe me. and Thompson Ledge.

bear roots

This painting is by J. H.Hutchingson
who lives in Escalante.
I am endlessly fascinated by the creations of
artists and what they chose to make,
like the teapots I viewed yesterday.
My sister Linda just had a open house in
San Francisco displaying her two finished
sculptures of Neely and Farlengetti.
I thought to display something of hers, but
decided to wait to hear more about it
from her. And then I will post something.
I do have a painting and a sculpture of Old Mama,
Thompson Ledge, and an old one of Dad on a horse.
I do want to hear how the poetry readings went
and how people viewed her work. Her sculptures are good.
Always interesting who she decides to do next.
She is the poorest sculptress I know, as she
does exactly what she wants and then hardly makes
a cent. Her computer isn't hooked up.
Her daughter's computer is down.
Scott? Where is Scott? That's her son,
and does carry around a computer. I will wait
a bit. In the meantime enjoy these odd roots.

Son

This picture shows Stuart putting up
or taking down his tent.
He gets things done and gets the kids busy,
teaching as he works. His birthday is tomorrow..
doesn't want a party. Might head to Mesquite.
Born with club feet, we spent each week at
Shriner's Hospital getting new casts to
get them straight. He cried. He was operated on
at six months, but still walked at ten months.
Amazingly strong. He can remember the airplane
hanging in the cast room.
Operated on again at age five
and also in Jr. High.
Odd moments...while teaching 15-year-olds lifesaving,
they couldn't bring up the weight
from the bottom of the pool.
He went to the bottom and brought it up.
He was eight. I couldn't believe it.
He had a motorcycle at age five
and rode for hours like a madman.
Wouldn't ride a horse.
He was good in sports, wrestling, and baseball.
Didn't like basketball.
Loved hunting.
In his forties now, he's still busy.
Works long hours taking care of his family.
Hates having his picture taken...thus the older one.
Isn't one to visit long, but will jump in and
get work done that needs doing.
He's fast, and what he does, he does well.
I often wish he was around more often...
And am always glad that he's my son.

Sheep

Speaking of sheep, I thought you'd like to see all the sheep
going along the street in Cedar City...taken from the Spectrum.
I don't know why sheep in Cedar City appeals to me,
but it does.