Porch Poet

porch collage
P inkish hues of spider’s silk
O ranges, yellows, whites like milk
R eds and greens in varying tints
C apture the sun’s rays as they glint
H ere on the mums, there on a wing
P rompting retreat to shade covered things
O ppressive, this air you can cut with a knife
E ven the bird, like dragon, still life
T oday’s one for dwelling, musing, no movement
S o hoping tomorrow will bring some improvement

 

It’s all in a name

Ah…the good ol’ summertime.

A time for beaches and bicycles and picnics and bbqs and vacations and staycations and more likely than not… family.

Whether you’re a nut from a towering oak, have a touch of sweetness like the magnificent sugar maple, are tart and tangy like the bounty that falls from the fruit trees, or run more to the quiet strength of the whispering pine…we are all branches of our family trees.

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As it will, nature steps in to prune our branches. Our leaves fall through the natural process of age and death, or in times of storm and disease, we sadly lose precious limbs way before their time.

Nature will…have its way.

But because our roots are so deep, we continue on…new saplings sprout from new seeds and new blood.
Often, we are stronger and more resilient for it. Having richer hues and sweeter fruit.

Or, as is common enough in my family to be the rule and not the exception, (leaves fall too close or too far, whichever the case may be) we end up with nuttier nuts and fruitier fruits.

Which leads me to:

“The Family Reunion”

For the good folk up here in the extreme north, the best thing to be said about summer is …NO SHOVELING!
Next to that…there is reunion season, which in my case, consists of the following:

Mother’s Mother’s side
Mother’s Father’s side
Two distinct and unique trunks of my maternal grandparent’s tree.
Let’s say it’s where the Spruce meets the Elm.

Now, the Spruce and the Elm don’t share the same patch of ground. Perhaps because the Spruce is pretty rigid and doesn’t change much, and the Elm, while close when push comes to shove, has a history of infection and being hard to find (much loved all the same).
But…two distinct and separate genus with two distinct and separate reunions.

Which brings me to the other half of my tree:

Father’s Mother’s side
Father’s Father’s side
Or, as is our case…
ONE trunk for my paternal grandparent’s tree
(It’s a damned big tree!)

This is where the mighty Oak meets the Sugar Maple and rather than remaining as such…they became a whole new tree.

The Maple Nut Tree (Don’t Google it…no sucha thang)

Here’s the roots…
The George boys had a thing for the Smith girls…
Brothers marrying sisters…
(No, not their own sisters…we may be hilly people, but we don’t all play the banjo!)

Anyway…because more than one George married more than one Smith, the reunions are Smith/George amalgamations rather than just Smith or just George.
We even have Smiths who married other Smiths and those Smiths married Morrisons who in turn married other Morrisons…

EEE GAD, it’s enough to make you dizzy!

Anyway, the reason I started this, besides having just attended above mentioned gathering of Maple Nuts, is to do with names.
😆
It really is about names.
But not just any names.
Old names.

One would think, with sir names like Smith and George, the given names would be rather vanilla, wouldn’t you?
Tom, Dick, and Harry kind of names. But no.
And it just tickles the shit out of me to sit around listening to the older folk talk about their parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, bandying around some names not heard 100 years from here.

Kids my age, and those after, hear these names and think
“What the hell were they thinking?”
But I disagree. I think there is something strong, and connective in these old names.
It speaks of family more than the color of our eyes or the shape of our nose.
Names that are passed down in an obvious attempt to keep a loved one alive are beautiful names.

Shall I?
Okay, I shall.
Just a tiny sample.
Promise.

Great Grandfather Smith (ok…the next part is a sing along)

M.U.R.D.O. M.U.R.D.O. M.U.R.D.O. and M U R D O was his nameo!

Now, farmer Murdo Angus Smith married the lovely Rose La Brecque. They had 11 children (that’s Family #1).

Norman George, Mary Ethel, Eva Maude, Christie Rose, Margaret Leona, Clara Esther, Gladys Irene, Pauline Mae, Paul Angus, Walter Robert, and Baby Girl.

These names that don’t quite rrrrrrrrrrrroll off the tongue like names do today, but, it was all about continuity.

The lovely Rose died at the tender age of 36 (she needed a rest I think), whereby farmer Murdo married Marion who had another 5 children (that’s Family #2).

Murdo Harold, Joyce Ann, Fred Donald, Gerald Lloyd, and Virginia Maggie.

Again, these names don’t effortlessly fall off the tongue, but suggest a ‘reason’ behind them.
Nothing trendy here.

Great Grandfather George
Elmer Eugene George
(The only other Elmer I know lives in Cartoonland!)
Now, Elmer married Sophi (pronounced so-feye) Laundry and they had two sons
Raleigh Royal Eugene George and Morton Guy George
(So much packed into two little boys right? Oh, and a side note on Sophi~she had sisters…Mary, Maude, and Mert. LOL. Great huh?)

Both these George boys married Smith sisters:

Raleigh Royal Eugene George married Mary Ethel Smith (my grandparents) and had two children
Roy Eugene and Betty Rose

Morton Guy George married Christie Rose and had four children
Stanley Morton, Philip Dale, Beverly Ruth, and Harvey Elmer

Sadly, after my parents’ generation, the names became more normal(?)
Gone are the Murdos, Elmers, Mortons, and Raleighs.
No more Claras, Maudes, and Gladyses (Gladi?)

I’m as guilty as the next gal. I named my kids rather trendy names, but I think if I’d spent more time sitting under that big ol’ Maple Nut tree, I’d have found the courage to be different in the pride I feel when I’m sitting in that big pile of leaves.

Had that been the case, perhaps I would be the proud mother of Raleigh Murdo Elmer Roy?
Or if I’d had a girl…Mary Clara Maggie Rose?
Perhaps…

And the groaning you hear in the background is my husband who has NO room to talk…he is the son of ELBO.
But THAT is another mango tree altogether!

I hope you’re enjoying the summer, and hoping too, that you’re gathering round the base of your own magnificent family trees. There’s nothing quite like it.

And for those nuts that are part of my Maple Nut Tree…here’s a reminder of the beautiful day spent reminiscing about the old times and creating new ones. (Thanks Debbie and Henry)

-Click on a circle to bring up the full size photos-


The whole gang

She Waits

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She waits, as she always does, on the south side of the room
The same chair, straight, hard

The only softness is the faded paisley upon the seat
But that comfort is not for her
The oak warms in the sun

But remains cold and hard against her black skin
As she hangs on its back, waiting
For her special someone
To notice

The beams streaming through the door beside her
Unseen but felt
Tickling her, bathing her, tempting her

With promise

The promise of adventure
Oh how she wishes she had the wings of a bird

Like the one she paints
In the dark

From memory
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She’d fly through that door
Out there

The sun, the clouds
Fire and rain
She misses them

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She almost remembers
Diluted, like watercolor

She draws the lily as she remembers it

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She can see it

A light spot in the dark
Of her memory’s eye

The myrtle that should be blooming by now
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Longing to set her gaze on the ordinary
That she may set her sights to the extraordinary

This Is what she was born to do
Nothing else

But she has no control
Not over when, not over where
Hers is not to ask why
Hers is but to seek the truth when it is asked of her
Truth in beauty and the beauty in truth

This…is what she remembers…
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This…is what she’s missing…
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So she waits
Today?
Tomorrow?
As long as she is here
In the same room, on the same chair

She is blind
So she begs
“Uncover my face. Raise me up so that I may whisper in your ear
Be my wings so I can soar over field and stream
Capture the beauty of now
To keep with me for then
Our adventure is out there”

“Let me teach you to see the beautiful in the ugly” she pleads
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“Let me show you the extraordinary ordinary” she whispers
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She feels
Familiar hands, comforting hands
She’s flying, lifted and carried outside

It begins…today is the day
Eye open wide, taking it in

Capturing life as it happens
Not perfect…
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Not posed…
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Just life…
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Nothing is too small
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Tomorrow, she’ll wait again
But today…she flies
Today she is…
Awake
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History Beats the Heat

Want a better way to

get off the street?

beat the heat?

spare the feet meat?

Do you like

impressionists?

expressionists?

nationalists?

Are you turned on by

rarities?

deities?

barbarities?

Can you relate to

Athenians?

Egyptians?

Romans and Africans?

Are you into

modern art?

classical art?

primitive art?

Do you want

historical?

mythical?

or maybe prehistorical?

There is a way

to spend the day

with those that walked before us

That is to say

if you head that way

you just might spot a ‘saurus

Whatever you dig

or if digs are the fig

inside your personal ‘newton’

Then take a trip

aboard the ship

of the old masters, monsters, and Teutons

And as is my way

to share the day

maybe too my duty

To showcase one spot

that you’d otherwise not

experience the beauty

VMFA view

Of reeds so red

rising from the bed

with nary a thing shielding

In the Reeds

While waters dance

and winds advance

the fragile stand unyielding

Red Reeds and propellers

*Chihuly’s Glass Red Reeds at the Virginia Museum of Fine Art

Fridays with Murphy and Me

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I’m sure this image spoke to me the day I snapped it

Was it the flowers the drew my eye?

Was it a feeling of being on the outside looking in?

Vice versa?

Getting my head caught in the ropes (a.k.a. arghhhh)?

Swiss cheese being what it is…I’ve forgotten it or lost it or maybe I just thought it was pretty at the time

However you look at it…I’m damned if I know now

😳

So…as I often do when this happens, I just sit and stare at it.

Sometimes I fuss around with it…change a filter here, contrast there, funk it up a bit to see if it yells something out.

The funk didn’t help, as it is not telling me what it wanted to say, but it did put me in mind of something…

Murphy

Don’t ask…as I haven’t a clue

Just Murphy

You know…that fabled and famous guy that no one seems to be able to say exactly who or where or when or why…

There are as many stories as to how Murphy came to be associated with the worst luck ever as there are variations of the language of the law itself

Anyway…Murphy’s Law as I know it

“Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong”

Okay…well, if you think about it, it’s not so bad really

Without things going wrong, we wouldn’t use our noggins to figure shit out

Right?

Even those folks for whom everything seems to go wrong (ahem), it’s still not always a bad thing if those ‘wrongs’ turn into learning opportunities.

Learning to do things a different way, a better way, an easier way, the ‘right’ way?

Seems so to me anyway…and I consider myself in a good position to say so, considering the shit storm my life has been the last couple years

But hey, that’s Life and Life comes with just one promise…

Your Life promises to be your greatest adventure

Yes, it does

Where else can it be said that every minute of every day has the promise to be different from the one before?

If it isn’t, it’s not because it’s Life’s fault…it’s ours

We have the choice…sit in one spot, don’t move, don’t think, don’t eat, don’t drink, don’t sleep…die

OR

Get up, move around, go up, go down (sure…that way too), get outside, go inside, walk, drive, sing, love, laugh, cry, pout, clean, drink, eat…

Need I go on?

Every single one of those things is part of the adventure promised with each new second

Every promise can be fulfilled if we choose to make it happen

So…Murphy?

Sure, why not

But let’s go one better…

How about adding some new laws?

Just to keep us on the ‘that’s Life where every second promises a new adventure’ track

And to absolutely keep us on those ‘things on our feet that help us find furniture in the dark’….TOES

So in keeping with that…

Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there’s a 90% probability you’ll get it wrong.
The things that come to those who wait, may just be the things left by those who got there first.
If the shoe fits, get another one just like it.
Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine
A day without sunshine is like, well, night
He, who laughs last, thinks slowest

Got more?

Good, I was hoping you did

Share them here so we can all add them to our ‘Today’s Problems are Tomorrow’s Opportunities” catalogs

And now…I’m venturing off to enjoy this second’s adventure and it involves a date with a certain “John”

haha

Happy Adventuring…xo

Adapt

We begin as seed
    the idea of life
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Aided by elements essential to thrive
    we become what we are meant to be
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In times of stress, turmoil, and destruction
    we adapt, if only to survive, but still hoping to grow

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The inevitable of life is death
    The key to living is change
       The joy is in making the most of it