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Passions in Poetry

serenity's interactive journal

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serenity blaze
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350 posted 03-23-2004 05:48 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Maureen?

Methinks you may be forgetting to take care of YOU.

Please do that for us?

love ya lady.
Sunshine
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since 06-25-99
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351 posted 03-23-2004 06:46 PM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

Maureen...what seren said...

Seren...I just DO!
Nightshade
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352 posted 03-23-2004 06:54 PM       View Profile for Nightshade   Email Nightshade   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Nightshade's Home Page   View IP for Nightshade

After having a bad cold and infected throat for over two weeks...I think I'm almost all better!!
serenity blaze
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since 02-02-2000
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353 posted 03-23-2004 07:01 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Yayayayayayayayayay!

(Janet Marie taught me how to type that--try it! It's fun!)

I'm sending out good-health-love-groovies out to my girlies!

(er, now that I've a couple to spare...)

love ya too, Chrislane...
Sunshine
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354 posted 03-23-2004 08:48 PM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

[I seriously doubt anyone else know's Chris' full name here at Passions...aren't we most fortunate?  shhhh....]

Chris?  Serenity?  Are you BOTH getting back on track?  Hail Merlot...good for all that ails you....


I’ve heard that you should not try to think about what to share; you should share about what comes to you.

Muses are like that.

And just as quickly as one thought came to me, several came.  Thoughts of people I hadn’t shared time with in a long time.  Boom Boom Boom.  I will share one.

Perhaps the others will come, later.

I had experienced enough passings in my time and I was still quite young [in my mind] when this particular passing occurred.  I worked with this woman, a thin, lovely, single gal, who encompassed [in my eyes] a brilliant mind, and a passion for her dog.  I even smiled with my pup and I were invited to her dog’s birthday party!   Although I was not able to attend, I heard, and saw, all of it, via photographs.  All of the dogs that attended wore hats, played games, and had special bones with ice cream.

She was “something else” in my mind.  She told wonderful stories of her history, and of her parents, now deceased.  She spoke of family, elderly aunts and uncles, and cousins who now lived far away.  She was single, but seemed to live a full life.  As I knew many a “thin” person in my life, her appearance did not bother me at all.  Until she started losing weight.  And yet, being involved as I was with my own children, life, work, and the everyday mundane that sets in, I failed to notice some of the most important things.

The small cough that she hid with some delicacy.

The new slight mottlings on her otherwise very clear, alabaster skin.  How her very thick brown braid started to thin out.

I changed law firms, as the one she and I were with did not offer me the advancement I sought, and went to work for a larger firm.  She stayed where she was, but as most firms had to interconnect with each other in some way, I stayed close to my friend, and I thought, she to me.

In the new firm, I met another gal who was outwardly vibrant, a soul layering souls, and to this day, I love her as the friend she has remained.  We connect even when not connecting.  She, too, knew of my friend; we discovered that we had a “mutual” contact.  That made me feel even more at home…two wonderful friends I could lunch with and let my hair down [it was long then] in the privacy of “girl space”.  

I remember that I had asked my newer friend, one day, if she had heard from our mutual.  She had a bit of “far-away” look to her eye, and said “no, but I think I will check on her.”  I think it was two days that slipped by…and I asked my friend again, “have you heard anything?”  

“Yes.  Just last night.”

“Is she ok?’

“No.  They found her, and her dog.”

She then told me of the details, but not all of them.  Just enough, that I half-wiped out a box of tissues.

She said she would not tell me all, it was bad enough, what had happened.  I could only imagine, and I believe I imagined well.  First of all, my friend was sparing me all of the truth. Secondly, I was living with some truths of my own.  

To know that this lovely, intelligent woman had gone so far, as to make sure that her dog would not be discarded, or unloved, to take the pup with her, [the pup, being, some 13 years old…]

And I wondered, late at night, who would have missed who most; how ill was one, over the other; how neither could have, or would have wanted, to live, without their best friend.

I thought of her today, and of her black and white dog, and of two other misunderstood passings.  

But those are for later.

This one?  Is for the loss of a life, who still tugs at me.
Nightshade
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355 posted 03-23-2004 09:47 PM       View Profile for Nightshade   Email Nightshade   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Nightshade's Home Page   View IP for Nightshade

Sunshine
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356 posted 03-23-2004 10:45 PM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

Ah Chrislane, I didn't want you to cry...This woman...she had more problems than she let on to.  She took her dog with her.  It was sad, but at the same time, very, very responsible.  I do not condone this type of action by anyone, and yet?  I believe she must have been told she had cancer, or some such problem; from the signs I had seen, and the fact that she smoked...it all makes sense.  She left nothing behind for people to worry about, or clean up.  Her bills were paid, her arrangements met...

she just didn't figure that we would keep remembering what a soul she had....

serenity blaze
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357 posted 03-24-2004 06:02 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Speaking of women with soul?



I was graced tonight with a phone call, put through to me most graciously on three way from Mysteria...

Thank you dear lady.

I got to talk to Poet DeVine, the night before she was starting her journey.

(hugging myself)

She was excited, yes. She was a little emotional, yes. But I should also mention that she was non-chalant enough to allow her answering machine to pick up our insistant phone call (wince, was it three times?) as she went to her powder room, then had the grace to act amused that she was the object of so much attention. Sheesh.

I wish she were picking me up on the way.
She has so much grace, and wit, and style--her voice is pure silk with satin piping, and if you all can imagine the three of us on the phone?

YES!!!

Our words tumbled over each other and quips were a lightning storm.

We discussed her possible adventures (sharon discussed movie rights) and I think we actually shocked Mysteria with our blow-by-blow descriptions!

Poet DeVine mentioned this thread, too.

She likes what we're doing here, so I hope we can continue. I hope also, that there will be added a page or two from her road journal and we'll be blessed with an anecdote or five from her travels. (If not, I guess we'll just have to buy the book, huh?)

Mysteria? Thank you, as always, for your enduring lunatic patience with the madness of the mundane, and for sharing Sharon with me tonight.

Folks? PdV was all a giggle-glee too...

Be safe, precious lady.

and write us soon. We love you.

*touch the screen*

Ya'll pray with me?  

for our Sharon on the Road...


serenity blaze
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358 posted 03-24-2004 10:49 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

"Lee Anne Salad"


Gawd we loved a Shoney's Breakfast Bar.

Maybe 'cause we just took over the place.

Easy enough to do in numbers.

*   *   *

We WOULD have loved a Shoney's Breakfast Bar--except we were at Denny's.

"Coffee!" barked the road manager, grabbing several mugs. "Peppy" still felt like playing drums, and the silverware would do. He grabbed two butterknives and  dotted the plates with peppermint "patties",  nodding smiles at our waitress. She looked at us, with one eyebrow starched indignant, and then she quit on the spot, dropping her apron on the ground.

"Is she serious?"

I'd never seen that done before. Not in real life. But she did--she'd removed her apron and said "no way" to our section and quit-right there--on the spot.

I liked her immediately. Too bad she was gone.

I noticed though, that Lee Anne? The Only Other Waitress, looked at her with horror--her friend had betrayed her.

Then she looked upon our party of misfits and shook her head. I was damned glad we weren't near the carafe. She poured a "miss" onto a customers hand as she sized up the situation.

I caught her eye and tried to wink.

She wasn't looking at me though.

Bruce had just come from the bathroom and was dripping white-man-jerry-curls all over her customers along the way, shaking his head like a wild man and saying "BRrrrrrr..." His arms were folded, and protesting the chill--he had that lower lip bite that made me wary. (Oh boy...)

"Lee Anne" paled and went back to the coffee station, trying to buy time, as the manager nodded her over to our section.

"Cups--water--menus--coffee" he murmered knowingly.

I heard him because I was walking by, on my way to the restroom.

I shook my head.

I knew what damage they could do and I wanted no part of it.

*   *    *

Yet?

I'd love to tell a story of rock and roll destruction, but the truth is, although I took my time in that bathroom, thinking the worst, when I walked out, that little girl had all those boys sitting proper at their tables.

"Lee Anne" had ruled.

*    *     *

I heard later she unbuttoned a button, and asked everybody, 'real calm now' to "Take a seat."

"I'll git to ya when I can, but in the meantime? Help each other out." And then that woman delegated, and wisely gave "Brother Tim" the coffee pot. "G'wan!" she urged, "There's gonna be more!"

I heard she just yelled "TOAST!" to the white cap working the front kitchen and politely smiled "scuze me?" to her table and went over there and treated my boys like the kindergarten group that they were.

That little lady took every order, patiently, but with spirit too. She didn't allow herself any crap. She waited her tables and our full section, and sometimes yelled "wait an effing minute!" as we requested (not too politely) the jellies and jams and syrups and butters and another glass of milk, please?

*   *   *

She probably lost a few tips from the other side, but I like to think we made up for it.

*   *   *

Road manager, "Brother Tim", looked at her, and nodded his approval and yelled , "TIP!
" as he held his beloved carafe threateningly, wagging his brows.

As 'Linda' slid under the table, Bruce stole the twenty from her back pocket and threw it on the table. I looked at him and laughed and threw my last fiver up there. Then the boys dug deep---and "ones" came from socks and other unsightly places, along with another twenty, and some fives, a couple of grudging tens too--in a huge salad of money in the middle of Lee Anne's table. But that wasn't enough.

We started digging for change too.

Forty-five of us literally emptied our pockets for the little waitress who could.

*   *   *

Peppy belched before kissing Lee Anne on the cheek as we left.

We'd found our home, and "Lee Anne" became our mommy.

She was gleeful, and smiling, counting the money, and said, "ya'll come back anytime."

*   *   *

We did, too.

We tossed Lee Anne "salad" everytime too.

Sunshine
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359 posted 03-24-2004 11:06 AM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine


I only wish I could tell stories this fine...

I'm thinking, if you can find her, send this to her.  She'll be surprised to know she got her own $20 back...
Sunshine
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360 posted 03-24-2004 11:48 AM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

When we were in Nipomo, me, being a non-rebellious child, rebelled, slightly.  My friend, you see, had this beautiful horse, and had promised me a ride, and as I was still naught but a child, and Mom, having gone through a stage of infantile paralysis one summer when pre-teen, engaged in her wisdom the necessity of “naps”.  I was that pre-teen, then, told to “lie down” but I knew when her sleeping shadowed over her love of reading, and heard the book slip to the floor, that it was time to sneak out, and meet Kathy, and yes, oh yes…

Ride that horse.

It seemed forever on that sunny afternoon to hurry down the sandy road, but hurry I did, my thin long legs in stride of a run, because I knew my time was short, and I had to get astride that horse, because it was a promise, and had I asked, well, I knew my mother would say no.  Now, if father were only home, he would say, “sure” and would walk me down to Kathy’s house, just to see his daughter astride that lovely brown stallion.  It was his wish to have given me my long-wished for dream, but money was always being taken from Peter to pay Paul, and there was no way I would ever own one, then.

Kathy was waiting.  Now, she being a few years older, knew the horse sense in teaching horse sense.  She wasn’t about to let me up on that stallion until she had taught me a few things.  I was silently begging God to please allow her to just let me on the horse…didn’t she know my time was short?  But no, if she knew I was there without permission, I was dead in the water.

The sun began to feel hot [or was it my fevered imagination?] as Kathy explained technical aspects of a horse’s leather equipment, how to place the bit just so, how to show “no fear” to an animal, but handle them tenderly, and with love.  Oh, I was in love with the horse all right, but he reared back.  Horses sense too much I thought, and I was now afraid the horse knew of my escape.  Would he punish me?  Or would He punish me?

We had the horse out in the corral now, and Kathy was about to lift me astride the horse, when “Kathy!  Phone for you,” her mother called through the screen door.

Sigh.  I would have to wait.  But I couldn’t wait, so I held my breath while she crawled over the gate, and scampered into the house.  Then, yes, that box over there.  That would give me the height I needed to get on the horse myself.  It didn’t matter that he had no saddle on – I had ridden bareback before.  The stallion was standing so quietly, even when I moved the wood box over to his left side.  And I kept praying, “just stay still”…

And everything was okay, as I grabbed his mane for a firm hold, then pushed off the box, at which time the screen door slammed, and the horse reared, and I went backwards, over the barbed wire fence, grazing it with my back, and onto the gravel.  Just then Kathy was standing over me, saying, “that was your mom.  You’d best get home.”

The look in her eyes told me two things.  I was in deep trouble…and not with just my mom.  The disappointment I saw in this older girl’s eyes immediately made me resolve right then and there…

Not to ever try to get away with anything like this again…

My back, bleeding from the barbed wire, my backside covered with gravel dust and pieces of sharp rock still sticking to my arms, I continued to brush myself off and tried so hard to keep from crying all the way home.  I was bruised, and sore, and punishment was straight ahead.

Yep, Mom had dad’s belt in her hand, but when she saw me limping, and it was not an exaggeration on my part, held back, saying, “you’re grounded.”

It was enough.

So…there are other horse stories down the road.  But when I come back in another life?  It won’t be in human form…


Dark Angel
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361 posted 03-24-2004 06:17 PM       View Profile for Dark Angel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Dark Angel

Ahhh I am enjoying all these wonderfull stories...thanks ladies... keep em a comin

vlraynes
Member Rara Avis
since 07-25-2000
Posts 9136
Somewhere... out there...


362 posted 03-24-2004 11:49 PM       View Profile for vlraynes   Email vlraynes   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit vlraynes's Home Page   View IP for vlraynes


sorry I haven't been here...

just wanted to let you all know how much I
appreciate all the kind words... they have
been much needed and mean so much
more to me than you know...

thank you...
vlraynes
Member Rara Avis
since 07-25-2000
Posts 9136
Somewhere... out there...


363 posted 03-25-2004 12:58 AM       View Profile for vlraynes   Email vlraynes   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit vlraynes's Home Page   View IP for vlraynes


and, Karen?...

you can call me whatever you like...(within reason...grin)
as long as I can continue to call you 'sis'...smile...
garysgirl
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Florida, USA


364 posted 03-25-2004 10:40 AM       View Profile for garysgirl   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit garysgirl's Home Page   View IP for garysgirl

Hi everybody.  
I just wanted to tell you all that I keep feeling drawn back here to this thread. Everyone of you are so deep in my heart. I feel as if I've known you all personally for years and years. You all feel like more than friends to me. You feel like family.

No matter what I may be doing or thinking or feeling during the day, so many of you keep creeping into my thoughts.

I loved you all before this thread, and felt that I knew you, but now I'm beginning to feel that I KNOW you. I wish so much that we could all sit around and talk and tell each other our hearts and our secrets. Well, heck, that's what we're doing, isn't it???
Sunshine
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365 posted 03-25-2004 11:06 AM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

Yes, Ethel...that's what we're doing.  A box of Kleenex, a few wine glasses, [a lot of cheese for Karilea], and a bunch of reminiscing...

that's how the world revolves.  You know, the storytellers were the keepers of the fire.  It didn't matter if it was the woman, or the man, that told the stories...it was what connected us with our past, and what gave forbearance to the future.  We are supposed to learn from the past, in order to go forward.

But the true storytellers have receded into shadows, for so many reasons; it is up to all of us to rekindle the flame, and bring forth the memories, once again.

Now, Ethel...isn't it YOUR turn?
Ringo
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Saluting with misty eyes


366 posted 03-26-2004 08:24 PM       View Profile for Ringo   Email Ringo   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Ringo

karen- That li'l story reminds me of the All-night choke and puke in Yuma, Az. I don't really remember the place (mayhaps Alicat could oblige), however it is right on the main drag through town on the south side of the street.
Anyhow, all of the musicians used to go there after the shows (the few that there were in mighty downtown Yuma), and we became part of the funriture, we were there so often. It got to the part that whomever was in need of coffee, would get up andf get it themselves, and would usually get a chorus of "Me, too" and would go around the room puring for the waitress. And, damned if my lead guitarist didn't have better legs than the waitresses.  

Some people are like Slinkies . . . not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs...

Sunshine
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367 posted 03-27-2004 07:48 AM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

Easter will soon be here, a time when city parents will, with no thought to foresight, bring home chicks and baby rabbits for their children’s Easter basket.  The sadness in this, is that the hapless “presents” are not toys.

Once we had moved from Los Angeles, up to Nipomo, one of dad’s intents was to teach us kids how to be self-sufficient.  Starting at ages 7, and 5, respectively, it surely wasn’t too soon.  This is when I remember Mom really getting her first bit of education in canning.  Then, Dad taught Mom how to turn out huge, fragrant loaves of homemade bread.  She had already learned how to stretch hamburger six ways from Sunday.  When a house smells good, no one seems to worry about what they don’t have.

There, in Nipomo, we had chickens.  I didn’t think much of them, for dad had gotten them fully grown.  So, I was educated in chickens in a backward fashion; we gathered eggs, and enjoyed the young roosters in various edible forms throughout the year; but we really hadn’t learned about chickens until we moved away from Nipomo and relocated in Santa Maria.  Now, my brother and I were 8 and 6.  At that time, we were still in another rental home, but again, it was just outside the city’s limits.

This is the time when Dad trucked home huge flats of…chicks.

We kids hadn’t realized that Dad had spent the few nights before working out in the garage, preparing for their arrival.  We did know that we had been given the chore of cleaning out the old hen house that sat on the south side of the property.  We had raked out old, pungent hay, and had removed weeds from around the outside.  Dad had done the hard work, nailing up new chicken wire, and had replaced a few “roosts” and put in new boxes.  Some things were never questioned, and I knew we were tenants, so I figured the landlord had asked for the repairs.

But then came the flats.  And a lot of chirping was going on inside.  It was right around Easter, so of course we two kids were pretty excited.  

But Dad had it pretty much under control.  After the excitement of touching, watching, and holding several of the 50 some chicks, Dad got down to business.  

He explained how, for a couple of weeks, the electric lightbulb needed to stay on overhead of the chicks, and that meant night AND day; how the shallow pans of water needed to stay in corners of his hatchery, and how we needed to check on their feed (which reminded me of small bits of oatmeal, coarse and dusty).  There was a small screened floor for the chicks in this squatty hatchery.  Dad showed us how to clean up the sheets of paper below the screen.  

So, water, food, cleaning, a daily chore.  Which meant we could also watch, touch, and pick up the chicks.  A little work, a lot of love.  What child’s world could be better than this?

My bedroom was situated where I could watch the garage from my window.  No one asked, but I became the chick’s guardian of light.  I could see the electric bulb’s yellow glow through the garage window at night, before I was tucked into bed.  If the light was on, the chicks were warm.  It should not be surprising to any of you, that Dad and I arose early each morning, when it was still dark outside – so the first thing my eyes looked for was that light.  I knew if it was off, we could loose our chicks.  Even though they huddled for warmth at night, the light helped them maintain their body temperatures.  Spring was, even in California, an “iffy” time of year; for all of a day’s sunshine, the nights got cool and moist.  

We had watched over the chicks for about ten days, and the weekend was upon us.  I awoke, feeling “something” was wrong, and looked out the window.  The light was OUT!  I didn’t even wait to find a bathrobe or my slippers, I ran [as quietly as a seven year old can run] through the house and out the screen door, which banged like a shotgun when it slammed shut.  Down the steps, across the lawn, and through the garage door.

There was Dad, changing lightbulbs.  He had seen the bulb flickering from the kitchen as he was making coffee, and had gone out to change it.

He just smiled at his panicked little girl, and nodded his head, a knowing great smile playing around his lips.  

I was doing my job, just right.


Dark Angel
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since 08-04-99
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368 posted 03-27-2004 07:32 PM       View Profile for Dark Angel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Dark Angel

Yer beautiful Karilea...So was this story...I could see it all happening before me. Now lil chicks would be a better gift than chocolate bunnies at Easter time

Bella

Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
(by Virginia Woolf)

Dark Angel
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369 posted 03-27-2004 08:05 PM       View Profile for Dark Angel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Dark Angel

Ahhh Karilea...you've conjured up a memory.....doesn't happen much with me.. seeing my memory is shocking. My friends call me Dory, yanno from Finding Nemo. sighhh.

anyway...

Talking bout chicks...we had a chicken Pen, well Mum and Dad did...we had hens and roosters and sometimes little chicks. Sometimes Mum and Dad would go to the farms or the produce and buy hens.. ready for layin.  
This one time they brought home this pretty hen.. yes pretty lol. She was just so darn pretty.. I mean she was white as snow and her um comb? was like a bright red. I mean she stood out from the others... she was model material, she left them for dead.

My brother and I fell in love with her, we decided to adopt her. We named her ...are you ready for this? ROSIE! haha
We had turns of taking her out of the pen and taking her to our play area in the backyard..oh, we'd pet her and hold her and look into her eyes and we'd put her upon our shoulders LOL and she would stay, she was one hellova chick, she was a babe and she darn well knew it too LOL. Hell, we even took photos with Rosie, Rosie sitting beside us, Rosie in our arms, Rosie sitting on our shoulders...yep.

This went on for ages I don't recall how long we had her but one Sunday morning Mum came to us..her eyes to the floor and uslooking up at her.. waiting for the news we were about to get.

Mum had found Rosie on her back (lol) legs up in the air stiff as a.... well nevermind, words fail me. She had died through the night. We didn't know why nor how...Our Rosie was dead.....

Mum brought her up to us and we said our last goodbyes through tears. We.. my brother and I were devasted.

We buried Rosie in the backyard somewhere between the pumpkins and whatever else was around. We had a cross made for her as well...with her name and the date on it.

I think we killed her with our love.

We were so upset for weeks after that....but as kids do...we eventually got over it, the death that is... but not Rosie..once in a blue moon we remember her still.

hehe thanks Karilea. Brings a smile it does.


Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
(by Virginia Woolf)

Nightshade
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just out of reach


370 posted 03-27-2004 08:35 PM       View Profile for Nightshade   Email Nightshade   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Nightshade's Home Page   View IP for Nightshade

Karilea & Dark Angel, such sweet stories. Brought smiles they did.....and my own chicken memory. Well, no, the chicken was not mine, and my mind isn't like a chickens.....ummm....what I meant was....my first husband's mother was from a very small town in Nova Scotia. It was quite common for people to have chickens in their backyards. Well, this one resident's chickens were always getting out and wandering up and down the streets. On a nice spring day, one of the chickens actually boarded a bus and travelled to the next town!! True story! Ha ha haaaaaaa. Everytime I heard my ex-mother-in-law tell that tale, I would have questions in my mind, like:
Did the chicken have to stand in line?
Did the chicken have to pay the fee?
Did the chicken get a good seat?
and....
How did the chicken get home?

Hugs to all. Chris
Dark Angel
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371 posted 03-27-2004 08:43 PM       View Profile for Dark Angel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Dark Angel

LOL.. now that is funny...yeah, how did they get home? did they even get home? lol

thanks for the laugh Chris.

Maree

Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
(by Virginia Woolf)

serenity blaze
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since 02-02-2000
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372 posted 03-27-2004 08:59 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

"How did the chicken get home?"

Well, had she been a duck, she might have taken the bus.

Smile.

You just reminded me of a story...  

This'n is about one of those many ludicrous moments in my life that have left me convinced that the only reason for my existance is to simply amuse "the powers that be."

I used to work in the State Pharmacy. (um, well yes, that's another story too ) And yes, I was so notoriously late that I actually had the audacity to complain to my boss one day that "the day just drags by" when I got there on time. (*wince* I know.)

But anyhoo--I had learned that the delivery guys in the basement had actually started a pool, gambling on how many minutes late I would be each day.

(*wince* I know.)

Furthermore, I had learned that the time increments didn't even include the possiblity of my being on time!

"Hey...!"

So, once having learned that, I finally found some incentive to arrive to work on time. I knew the size of the pool had gotten quite large, and "the pot" was nothing to shake a timecard at either.

I was determined to make it to work on time, and march right down to the basement and declare myself the winner!

I woke that Monday morning with plenty of time.

Good thing too.

Flash Flood Watch

Nodding. YEP.

It was raining cats and dogs.

And, apparently, DUCKS.

I waded down to the bustop (conveniently located one block from my home too--*wince* I know) and stood there waiting for the bus, with a useless umbrella tilted sideways now--the rain was being pummeled horizontal by the wind.

Just as I'm beginning to wonder if my goal was worth it, a duck walked up to the bustop to stand behind me in the pouring rain. That's right. A duck. Quack Quack. In the rain. At the bustop, and I was SOAKED too.

The 7:30 bus was standing room only crowded too. But yes, they all got quite a laugh at the sight of me and my new found friend, "Da Duck", wetly waiting to go to work on time.  Sigh.

The Gods love to laugh at me.

And I was still three minutes late, too!

Needless to say, I never tried that again!

Sunshine
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since 06-25-99
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Listening to every heart


373 posted 03-27-2004 09:35 PM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine


ROFLMAO...or should I say "duck"?

Oh Serenity, I'm laughing so hard I'm hurting myself!  Because?  I can SEE it!

Pass the Kleenex and someone get out of the bathroom!
Dark Angel
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since 08-04-99
Posts 10270


374 posted 03-27-2004 10:24 PM       View Profile for Dark Angel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Dark Angel

"DUCK" Karen... LOL

I can see it too....
 
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