My Muse and Me

Appalachian Studies

2011-12-08T06:11:00.000-05:00

I thought this photo was funny. My youngest daughter, Christine, is a student at Berea College, majoring in History and minoring in Appalachian Studies. I am always pronouncing Appalachian wrong, so this sums it up just perfect!

Call to Arms Against Horse Slaughter Houses

2011-12-07T12:11:00.000-05:00

I am reprinting this for my friend, the Catfish Queen. It is a call to arms about the slaughter of horses for human consumption. Here is her article:

This Is Urgent - Horse Slaughterhouses Could Be Up And Running In Less Than A Month!

To anyone who reads my Hubs with any regularity, let me offer a preemptive apology. This one will most likely contain typos and grammar errors and not meet my usual standards, but this heinous information needs to be publicized as quickly as possible.

Without fanfare and under the guise of balancing the budget, Congress has made it profitable to butcher our horses. Within the month, horse slaughterhouses could be up and running across the United States. Tucked into the bill that kept the government running through December was a repeal of a 5 year funding ban for horsemeat inspections.

The USDA is the agency that would oversee the inspections, just as they do for meat, dairy, vegetables, etc. While the bill does not give the USDA additional funds, it is now within the agency's discretion to cut funding from other programs to cover the estimated $3 to $5 million dollars that would be required to run the inspection program. In other words, they'll rob Peter to pay Paul, funneling money that should be used to keep our food safe into this atrocity.

Lifting this ban opens the door to soulless opportunists who would line their pockets with money made by butchering horses. They will tell you that it's more humane than shipping the horses to Canada. They will tell you that it's a humane alternative, that the horses would be abused or starved otherwise. They will tell you that it's only the old, sick or un-trainable horses that will be slaughtered. They lie. Buyers of horse meat want only "prime cuts". They will not buy diseased carcasses for human consumption. This ban will allow young, healthy horses to be butchered by the thousands.

Here's what Dave Duquette, president of a pro-slaughter group called United Horsemen (irony, anyone?) bragged to CBS News - "I have personally probably five to 10 investors that I could call right now if I had a plant ready to go," said Duquette, who lives in Hermiston, Ore. He added, "If one plant came open in two weeks, I'd have enough money to fund it. I've got people who will put up $100,000." He's practically salivating about his share of the profits.

If any of y'all are from Wyoming, I urge you to contact Sue Wallis, a state lawmaker and, coincidentally I'm sure, the vice president of United Horsemen. Here's what Cruella, I mean Sue..had to say about the matter - "The federal ban devastated "an entire sector of animal agriculture for purely sentimental and romantic notions," she said. She's about to find out just how sentimental and romantic we are when our horses are threatened by people who only see dollar signs.

I'm a Kentucky girl, and we're proud of our horses and our whiskey. We were sickened to find out in 2002 that Ferdinand, the 1986 Kentucky Derby winner, had been butchered after being sold to a Japanese racing stable and shipped to Japan. This magnificent stallion, who had made his owners tons of money and had given excitement and enjoyment to legions of racing fans was butchered for DOG FOOD. Was he old, sick, or un-trainable? No. He simply was not profitable any more.

I'm begging all of you who read this to contact your state lawmakers and raise absolute teetotal hell. Tell everyone you know, and tell them to tell everyone they know. This ban was lifted deviously, and Congress thought they could get by with it. Please help me prove them wrong. I guess I could have included some video of horses being slaughtered to make this more incendiary, but I have faith, based on what I've seen on these pages, that a sincere plea will be enough. Please, please help. This has got to be stopped, and we don't have much time.

I've listed some relevant links below, and I'm betting that being the intelligent, creative and compassionate people I know y'all to be, you'll find more.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Horses could soon be slaughtered for meat in US - CBS News
Horses could soon be slaughtered for meat in US

Death of a Derby Winner: Slaughterhouse Likely Fate for Ferdinand | BloodHorse.com
Ferdinand, the 1986 Kentucky Derby winner who went on to capture the following year's Horse of the Year title with a dramatic victory over 1987 Derby hero Alysheba in the Breeders' Cup Classic, is dead. The Blood-Horse has learned the big chestnut...

Indyarocks Videos - Rescued from Slaughter Mare and Foal
Rescued from Slaughter Mare and Foal. This mare was rescued from slaughter. It is NOT the sick and elderly that are sent to slaughter! Find this video and other related videos at Indyarocks.

Why healthy foals - some just a day old - are being killed across Britain...
Graceful and sleek, the beautiful bay racehorse was used to the thunder of applause as she swept past the grandstand - not the sound of a rifle.

These Links Will Show You How Your Lawmakers Voted And How To Contact Them. Please Make Some Noise, Folks!
•GovTrack: Senate Vote on Conference Report: H.R. 2112: Consolidated and Further Continuing Appropria

GovTrack: House Vote on Conference Report: H.R. 2112: Consolidated and Further Continuing Appropriat

Contacting the Congress: A Citizen's Congressional Directory

Louisville Poet Nominated for National Pushcart Prize in Poetry

2011-12-06T23:50:00.000-05:00

My friend and Kentucky author - Sheri Wright - has been nominated for a national Pushcart Prize in Poetry:

Local poet, Sheri Wright in the running for prestigious prize

LOUISVILLE, Ky., ( December 6, 2011) – Sheri L. Wright was nominated for the Pushcart Prize by Journey MacAndrew’s, the editor of The Single Hound for her poem The Tenants of Central Park, published August 2011 as part of the "Poet of the Month" selections.

Not since 2002, has a Louisville poet won the national Pushcart Prize for Poetry. Sheri L. Wright, author of five books of poetry, is the host of a literary radio show From the Inkwell. Wright hopes to break the lull with her nomination. When asked about this prestigious nomination Ms. Wright said, “I credit my success to a variety of writer's critique groups, like the Green River Writers, and to individual poets. I also worked with acting and voice coaches to improve my reading.” She believes that this formula helped her to learn her craft.

Ms. Wright also attributes her achievements to learning to get out of her own way, and to stop over-thinking the creative process. Wright is committed to her art and engages in the creative process daily, by writing, editing her work, or reading other poets and writers.

Wright's newest book of poetry, The Slow Talk of Stones, was released this year and has received many favorable reviews in regional blogs and newspapers, including The Courier-Journal and Lexington's Herald-Examiner.

Currently, Wright seeks ways to help other writers in the region find voice on her literary radio show, From the Inkwell, which is a live-streaming broadcast aired on Saturdays at 1:00 p.m., on http://www.cescenthillradio.com/, a non-profit station in Louisville, KY. Sheri also founded and hosts the Stone Soup Poetry Series, held the last Sunday of every month at The Bard's Town, restaurant, theatre and lounge located at 1801 Bardstown Road. Ms. Wright features poets and musicians. She feels that collaboration between artists of all mediums is not only fun, but key to supporting one another.

To purchase Wright's books, schedule a reading, workshop or editing services, please visit http://www.scribblingsandsuch.com/.

Arts Council of Mercer County Fall Arts Festival

2011-10-09T23:57:00.000-04:00

Our booth at the Harrodsburg Fall Arts Festival

The Arts Council of Mercer County held their 3rd annual Fall Arts Festival this weekend at Old Fort Harrod State Park. This is the first year the show has ran for 2 days, Saturday and Sunday. In addition to wonderful entertainment by storytellers, bands and singers, there were numerous art vendors, as well as plenty of activities for the children.

Enjoying the beautiful day

We had a good weekend selling the book. Thank you to everyone who came out and bought a copy of Harrodsburg (Images of America) and the chapbooks Bobbi's Mercer Memories Vol. I and II. We also would like to thank the people who came out for Debra Watts' new childrens' book CARter CAR and His Wild and CARazy Birthday; she had a great weekend as well.

Blueberry Cobbler Soy Candle from CHL Scented Creations

Also, our new friends Lisa and Cricket - the Candle Ladies - from DHL Scented Creations, where there with their delicious smelling soy candles, tarts and air fresheners. It's nice to kick back with good friends and have a great time.

Cricket with 2 of my chapbooks and a Monkey Sock hat from the Mad Hatter

Thank you ACMC for a great fall weekend and a great Fall Arts Festival!

Black Leather air fresheners from CHL Scented Creations

Should She

2011-09-27T20:55:00.000-04:00

(Photo copyright Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

SHOULD SHE
The afternoon sun brightens the forest,
just before it hits the horizon;
a small doe timidly steps onto
the crushed gravel road.

Should she cross this barren terrain,
or should she retreat to safety?
Prepare to leap if danger encroaches,
she steps into the road.

Cornfield

2011-09-27T20:42:00.000-04:00

(Photo copyright Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

CORNFIELD
The cornfield, slowing starting to yellow,
neglected in the darkening sky
as grass and storm clouds move in.

Or maybe the yellowing corn
is near the outer fields
as the storm has passed away.

Birdhouses

2011-09-27T19:04:00.000-04:00

(Photo copyright Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

BIRDHOUSESThe birdhouses line the vivid blue fence
all different sizes, all different colors,
awaiting families them all.

Robins and wrens,
bluebirds and finches,
swallows and a woodpecker or two.

What lovely homes they appear to be
how I wish I was a little birdie
to make my home cozy and sound.

Grocery Store

2011-09-27T06:57:00.000-04:00

Grocery Store

Cars pull in the lot
parking willy nilly;
people of all gender and race
size and color, too.

The breeze picks up
pulling the heat
from the oil-stained asphalt
between the yellow lines.

Two gallons of milk;
paper, plastic or cloth,
environmentally conscious
or people caring less.

We are the way,
the how, the where,
the why, the when,
the what the fuck.

Power makes the world go ‘round
Power is what gets ahold of you
and never lets you go.

The Barn

2011-09-26T18:55:00.000-04:00

(Photo copyright Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

THE BARN

The big barn down the lane

sit under the thunderheads,

waiting for rain and all of the wind

secure and sturdy he stands.

The big barn down the lane

has passed a century old;

well-kept and well-loved

outliving the creators hands.

The big barn down the lane

beautiful in a majestic way;

lumber is worn, hinges are frayed

but confidence is always portrayed.

The Sycamore Tree

2011-09-25T18:34:00.000-04:00

(Photo copyright Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

THE SYCAMORE TREE

The Sycamore protects the house
with long, lean limbs of white;
so old with age, it’s hard to say
how much longer she will be around.

The Sycamore looms not in the horizon,
but in the side yard of the house;
sheltering the house in summer
but leaving anxiety with the cold wind.

The Sycamore tree, a friend a foe,
stands tall above the land;
how long will she last, is it her time to go
or will she reign as Queen of them all?

Rain Clouds

2011-09-21T18:09:00.001-04:00

Photo copyright Keith Rightmyer

Rain Clouds

Clouds are bubbling up
although a sliver of sun still shines;
will the rain come again,
or will the clouds blow away?

Book Mention

2011-08-21T21:53:00.000-04:00

The Bluegrass Bookshelf from the Lexington Herald-Leader on Sunday, August 21st, gave us a shout out. Thanks everyone!!

A Blurb on World News

2011-08-11T02:40:00.000-04:00

From the World News website:

"Soon to be released from Arcadia Publishing is Images of America: Harrodsburg, written by Harrodsburg’s Bobbi Dawn Rightmyer (writer) and Anna Armstrong.(photography). The book will be released the week of August 8th, but is already up for pre-order on several different websites: Amazon Barnes and Noble Arcadia
As of this moment, we are not sure when the book launch and signing will be, but we will keep you up-to-date. The book will also be for sell in several local
business, as well as Lexington and surrounding areas."

Featured in Danville Advocate

2011-08-09T09:35:00.002-04:00

I would like to give a big shout out to Jennifer Brummett at the Danville Advocate for doing such a nice job with the release of our new book. All information in this article is copyright Danville Advocate and Jennifer Brummett.

Bobbi Dawn Rightmyer and Anna Armstrong traveled a circuitous route to get to the publication of their first book together, “Images of America: Harrodsburg.” The pictorial history of Harrodsburg will be released Monday from Arcadia Publishing, which is based out of Mount Pleasant, S.C., outside of Charleston.

Rightmyer’s daughter was friends with the acquisitions editor for Arcadia Publishing, who approached Rightmyer for a book about Owen County. Rightmyer said she didn’t know anything about Owen County but she knew Harrodsburg. That started her on the path to developing a book about Harrodsburg.

Rightmyer said she’d known Armstrong all her life and was aware of her extensive collection of photos of Harrodsburg that date from the 1930s, with some older ones, as well. She sent an e-mail to Armstrong — an e-mail Armstrong never received. So Rightmyer went ahead and signed a contract with Arcadia to do the historical book, figuring she’d get photos from the local historical society. “I signed the contract with no idea of how to write a history book,” Rightmyer explained. In the meantime, Armstrong had been in contact with Arcadia about a postcard she was interested in creating.

“I have a huge archive of photos from my father (Andrew Armstrong), my aunt (Jesta Bell Armstrong Matherly, who also was an artist) and my work,” Armstrong said. She found out about Rightmyer’s work on a book about Harrodsburg, and wondered what she was using for the photographic element, since her own collection of Harrodsburg photos is unparalleled. Rightmyer said she was thrilled when Armstrong called, and the two got together to discuss the book, which was when they figured out Rightmyer’s e-mail hadn’t made it to its recipient.

“I decided to offer the photographs in order for the book to happen,” Armstrong said. She also had experience with writing historical descriptions, as she’d provided the text for a number of historical markers. Rightmyer said she found that experience invaluable, as she considers herself to be more of a “long writer,” focusing more on essays and longer written works.

Armstrong described “Images of America: Harrodsburg” as a “show-andtell” type of a book. The co-authors indicated such a work was needed in Harrodsburg, since the city lacked a recent, updated history-type book. Armstrong said the tome will be a good companion for people who are touring the city.

“It’s one of the first things I look for (when visiting a new place),” Rightmyer added. “It gives me an idea of where I’m at and what I’m doing.”

She added she hopes “Images of America: Harrodsburg” will inspire others “to get this history out there.”

Armstrong said the postcard pictorial history of Harrodsburg and Mercer County should be released about this time next year. The vintage postcards she will use will date through the 1960s.

Images of America: Harrodsburg

2011-07-18T11:39:00.001-04:00

Soon to be released from Arcadia Publishing is Images of America: Harrodsburg, written by Harrodsburg’s Bobbi Dawn Rightmyer (writer) and Anna Armstrong (photography). The book will be released the week of August 8th, but is already up for pre-order on several different websites:

• Amazon
• Barnes and Noble
• Arcadia

As of this moment, we are not sure when the book launch and signing will be, but we will keep you up-to-date.

Here is an excerpt from Images of America: Harrodsburg:

“Harrodsburg is the oldest permanent settlement west of the Allegheny Mountains and was founded in 1774 by James Harrod. Images of America: Harrodsburg covers the city limits from the late 1770s to the early 1960s and provides over 220 images from the Armstrong Collection, the Harrodsburg Historical Society, the Mercer County Public Library and the Kentucky Historical Society. Within these pages, experience and explore Harrodsburg during the pivotal era at the beginning of the great commonwealth – from the settlement of Old Fort Harrod to the “Saratoga of the West” mineral springs and spas. Follow the growth, hard times, and recovery of Harrodsburg, including government and growing businesses, advancements in education, the rise of religious institutions, and local and visiting celebrities. These well-preserved photographs from the entrepreneurs, grand openings, and expert news reporting all the reader to step back in time.”

Sorry for the shameless promotion, but this is a wonderful book about Harrodsburg - the oldest permanent settlement in Kentucky. Please try to buy a copy! This will also be great for tourist who will be visiting our area on vacations.

History in your Backyard

2011-07-06T11:47:00.001-04:00

How many times have you driven down College Street (HWY 127) in Harrodsburg and passed Old Fort Harrod State Park? Have you ever noticed the historic two-story home (now the Mansion Museum), located on the south side of the Park, has two front doors? One door faces College Street and the other faces Curry Avenue. These front entrances even have two different architectural features.

The families who lived there were as interesting as their home. If you would like to learn more about your 1800’s neighbors and take an architectural tour of this unique home, join the Park for “Tea with the Taylors” on Sunday afternoon, July 24thfrom 2:00 – 4:00pm.

In fact, add to the atmosphere by dressing in period clothing (1810-1925). Modern dress is also acceptable with an anticipated donation for an enjoyable afternoon.

There will be four “Teas with the Taylors” held monthly during the Park season. Each one will highlight more local history.

For more information, check the Fort Harrod website.

Natural Summer

2011-06-20T14:08:00.007-04:00

NATURAL SUMMER
Caterpillar nest in a small hackberry tree,
tiny little sparrow dining on the buffet.
Is it any wonder we have butterflies and moths?

Cardinals rest in the nest just outside the front door,
tucked away in the tangled growth English Ivy.
Male and female taking turns sitting on the nest.

Bumblebees are having a ball,
going from one delicious flower to the next,
sucking up the nectar of the Gods.

Earthworms are crawling to the top of the soil
after a long winters nap
in the earthy depths.

Ant colonies are scampering when you turn over rocks,
scurrying to seal the tunnels
and getting everyone inside.

Spiders spin their delicate webs trying to catch a meal.
But the surprise is on us,
when the webs sparkle with the morning dew.

Butterflies break free from cryslis
and venture into the warming summer air,
soaking up the sunshine pouring from the sky.

Train Graffiti

2011-06-17T11:48:00.003-04:00

TRAIN GRAFFITI

Looping letters
swirling the entire box car
Vivid colors
seeming to be 3-D
Exquisite examples
of unknown artists

Happiness and Sadness of May

2011-05-17T13:21:00.010-04:00

Where has the year gone? Just yesterday we were celebrating the holidays and now I’m back to working in the yard. My Granny Devine always did say time speeds up as you got older, and now I’m seeing this is so true.

While I’m not a hot weather, summer person, I am glad to finally leave the cold days of winter behind. Too many days of sub-zero weather has made my joints ache and creak, so I’m ready for a change. Warmer weather means more time in the garden, more time to walk and more time to soak up the daylight. Of course, it's still Kentucky, so we are still having some cold days - not to mention the inches and inches of rain we have had.

The month of May is the perfect time to shed our winter skins and slip into the latest summer fashions. After months of cabin fever and overwhelming darkness, you feel an almost rebirth at the excess of sunshine and warmth.

May has always been a transition month for my family. We are transitioning from the long winter and spring into the warmth of summer and from school to summer break. We are transitioning from slow time, early darkness and structured schedules to fast time, later sunsets and relaxed casualness. We say goodbye to prime-time television, large pots of chili and blue jeans with sneakers and say hello to drive-in movies, salad from the Farmer's Market and shorts with flip flops.

I cannot believe I no longer have any children in the local school system. Christine has just completed her first year at Berea College and she is excited about her college career. It has been hard adjusting to no children in the house, but now I have her home again, even if it's only for three months.

I am so incredibly proud of all three of my daughters – I could not have asked for three better girls if I had tried to order them from a catalog. They are all intelligent and responsible adults and they fill my life with joy. My granddaughter, Devon Mikayla, is already a special girl - and spoiled rotten - she has us all wrapped right around her little finger.

May 19th is a special day for Keith and I – it will be our 21st wedding anniversary. We have been together for 25 years and are happy to be celebrating such a great milestone. Like most couples, we have had our ups and downs, our sicknesses and health, our richer and poorer, but we have created a unique family with strong ties and our bond is even stronger today than it was 21 years ago. We have raised three beautiful, intelligent daughters and they are our pride and joy and we are both spoiling the granddaughter. We may not have done everything right, but we keep plugging away and try to keep everyone happy and on an even keel.

A big event at Fort Harrod State Park – Bark in the Park - just took place last weekend (May 14th). The Community of Mercer County Writers - my writing group - has written our 2nd volume of "Prose and Poetry for Pets" and we sold them for $5 each. All proceeds go to the Mercer County Humane Society, the charity of choice for our group. Even though it rained cats and dogs - pun intended - there were several people who ventured out. Trying to keep our tent above water was our major problem.

May also brought us Mother’s Day near the beginning of the month (May 8th). This is the first Mother's Day without my mother, Brenda Sallee; I really didn't handle it well, hiding in the house and wanting to be alone. My mother-in-law, Christine Holtzclaw Rightmyer, is a special lady and I am blessed to have her in my life. I thank God everyday that she brought Keith into my life.

Even though my Momma's first Angel Day is on the 23rd and I can't believe she has been gone one year, May is shaping up to be an exciting, memorable month,. It will be a time of great joy and happiness, grief and sadness and I look forward to making lots of new memories. Reconnecting with family and friends should be a priority this year, so why not plan some special events with your loved ones. Time is only getting shorter, so make the most of it while you still can. Remember, memories live on forever.

Raping the Land

2011-05-14T02:24:00.002-04:00

RAPING THE LAND

It seems that time
just slips away,
but mother nature
is bidding her time.

We rob her natural resources
contaminate water and food,
Big coal corporations don't care
about the land or the
lives they have changed and killed.
"Just give me your oil
and you clean up the mess."

What will we do when these
things go away?
The world will die and
Mother Nature will have her revenge.
Maybe the next new centuries
will learn from our mistakes.
Only time will tell.

Eye in the Sky

2011-04-06T19:29:00.010-04:00

Jet fumes going straight up

pointed at one end

with an eye at the top.

Needle in the sky

like God is sewing back together

the rips and tears we've made in the

Universe.

Who Will Care?

2011-04-06T18:40:00.005-04:00

(Photo copyright Construction Knowledge)

Rumbling down
screams of agony and pain
the mountain is falling down.

What of the creatures who
make their home inside the
beautiful Appalachians?

Is more coal more precious
than ruining the
Appalachians Mountains?

Is it worth the raping
and scaring of the land?

Was it legal for the government and the coal companies
to ask home owners
to sell mineral rights,
especially when they
didn't understand their legal rights?

Drinking water contaminated.
Mudslides galore.
Poverty continues to grow.

Top soil is ruined
as evidence by strange
growing vegetables.

The air stinks of smoke, coal
and slug ponds that have
nowhere to go.

Schools in the way of mud
slides, homes that crack from
black.

What happens to these
poor people?
Who will care?

Serenity

2011-04-06T17:08:00.005-04:00

(Photo copyright Google Images)

Serenity,

the time of

morning

when the earth stands still.

Serenity,

as the ocean moves in

tiny ripples

awaiting the waves of the coming day

Serenity,

the birds flying over -

sunrise

water glistening,

tiny fluffs of clouds

drift along dawn has crested.

Serenity,

the sun in the eastern sky

approaching mid-morning,

but no one

seems to notice but me.

Serenity,

a bird swooping,

probably a seagull,

'thou I wish it were my red tail hawk

from home.

Serenity,

the the fluffy clouds seem

suspended with only

the gentlest of movement.

Serenity,

as the water glistens

over the vast and

wondrous ocean.

Serenity,

as the day begins

and light wakes the world

and may life is renewed again.

The Journal of Kentucky Studies

2011-03-28T22:33:00.000-04:00

I have known for many months that one of my poems would be printed in "The Journal of Kentucky Studies"- published by Northern Kentucky University. The book should have been out in September 2011, but because it was a memorial tribute to James Baker Hall, it took a little long.

James Baker Hall (photo copyright Sarabande Books)

Opening the package on Monday and holding a real book in my hand was so exciting, but to see how many of my fellow peers also appear in the book just blows my mind:

Katerina Sloykova-Klemer

Wendell Berry

Matthew Haughton

Frank X Walker

Normandi Ellis

Rebecca Gayle Howell

If I can get my poem published in this prestiges literary journal, then anyone can. Just keep practicing.

Here is a past copy of "The Journal of Kentucky Studies" - copyright Northern Kentucky University.

Daffodils of Spring

2011-03-21T19:16:00.001-04:00

Here are some of the beautiful flowers growing in my garden right now:

Variegated daffodils

These are tiny daffodils growing in the left corner of the Front Garden

White daffodils growing in the Mailbox Garden (there is also a pink hyacinth)

Variegated daffodils in the Mailbox Garden

Pretty yellow daffodils in the Driveway Garden

A single daffodil

Full Worm Moon ...

2011-03-19T21:18:00.001-04:00

... Full Crow Moon, Full Crust Moon, Lenten Moon, Full Sap Moon or Super Moon, on March 19th this 3rd full moon of the year will be closer to the earth than it has been in 18 years. When temperatures begin to warm and the ground begins to thaw, earthworm casts appear, and Robins will start appearing around the yard.

Here are a few pictures I took of the full moon, but because I don't have a telephoto lens, but I do have a picture which makes the moon look heart shaped:

The March Full Moon

There is a halo around this photograph of the March Full Moon

I have no idea how I managed to take this heart-shaped photograph of the March Full Moon

UNEXPECTED

2011-02-22T19:40:00.003-05:00

I picked up the phone today to call my Momma,
before I realized there was no way to talk with her.
Why do I do things like this?
Why do I hear the wind chimes and
feel like my sister is right outside the door?

Grief and despair are sliding in again
like the slug of mud rolling down
the scalped mountains of Appalachia.

Will this pain never end? Or am
I left with these holes in my heart
never to be healed again? I know
time is supposed to heal all wounds,
but these wounds still gape and weep.

Occasionally, a ray of sunshine and
will enter, blowing cool hope and
wetting your mouth like an orange creamsicle.

Then like the tinkle of the wind chimes
or the rippling of a cool forest stream,
the feelings slowly ooze away, only
leaving hints of an unexpected return.

I Made It

2011-02-20T15:52:00.005-05:00

I MADE IT

Fear trickles down
my spine, but
I made it to the
funeral home without
one mistake.
Forget about the fact
I had no idea where
to go, I knew I had
to show support to my
family.
So my friend Google
gave me perfect
directions.
The main thing about
this amazing, seeming
normal act, feat
is I made it all
by myself.

JADE’S SLED

2011-02-11T22:08:00.005-05:00

“Promise you take care of my wee one; name him Willow Strong. And promise to try to get my body home to my people.” Those were the last words Jade heard from the tiny brown girl lying in the small cave Jade had found to spend a few days in.

On her trek out of San Francisco, Jade had started out strong, but within three months of walking the terrain she was tired and ready to stay in one spot for a week to rebuild her strength. This is when she came upon the girl under a tree, curled in a fetal position and crying. Walking over to the crying woman, Jade bent down and could tell the girl was with child because she had seen many women with large bellies in San Fran and Michael had told her this is where a baby grows. Michael is another story, so we won’t go there today.

Fifteen minutes later, Jade had carried the woman to the small cave she had planned to spend the night in. She opened her backpack and withdrew a water bottle. She wet a scrap of cloth and washed the woman's face. Even though she was inexperienced with many of the human behaviors, Jade recognized the urgency in the girl's voice. Drawing from her two years of study, Jade knew what she had to do.
"No, no," cried the woman, then she started saying words Jade did not understand. She knew it was some type of Indian language, but her Guardian had only trained for the more popular languages

"Ahhhhhh!" The girl screamed as she drew her legs up to her chest. The next thing Jade knew, she was holding a bloody lump that looked like a mini human. Fascinated, she washed off the baby's face and it started to cry. She wrapped the baby in a jacket she pulled from her backpack and handed the bundle it to the girl. Using a length of twine, she cut the babies umbilical cord and then cut him free from his mother.

The baby immediately began to root around on her mother’s chest until it found her right breast and began to suckle. The girl was still bleeding heavily and her breath was labored. Jade knew the girl was going to die, but she pulled some of her medicine pouches out of her backpack and found some powder to help with the fever, but she had nothing to stop the bleeding. Jade continued to rub on the girls belly to make it harden up and pack her with all the spare rags she had to stop the bleeding.

Jade closed the girl’s eyes, removed the tiny baby from her mother’s breast and wrapped him in the warmest blanket she had in her bags. After taking care of the baby, Jade went out of the tent to contemplate her situation. She had not been taught what to do with a dead body. She had been taught very little about babies, but not how to care for them.

First things first, Jade would need to wrap the cold dead body of the mother in something to try and get her back to her people somehow. She had passed an old barn about a mile back; maybe there was something she could use.

She took off running, but only got a few yards when she remembered the baby. She could not leave him alone – what if he started to crying? It could attract wildlife from all around the area. Although it was late fall, Jade had seen a few sprinklings of snow. Jade headed back to the tent and emptied her backpack, but soon realized it was too big to carry the baby in. Next she emptied her messenger bag and snuggled the baby in tight, leaving one end open for air.

Jade slung the strap over her head with the bag in the front to give her more support. “This should do it,” Jade murmured to herself. She realized there was nothing she could do about the little mother, but cover her body and leave her in the cave.

As soon as Jade began running toward the barn, she dropped her glamour to run faster. At the barn she kept her own body shape, because she felt sure the baby was too young to remember the tall, green lady with long strange hair.
The first thing Jade found was some old feed sacks; she could wrap the dead mother in these. Then she began to pull wood from the barn and with the tools found, Jade fashioned a crude sled. Not the kind of sled Michael had shown her in magazines, but it should be good enough to hold everything. She found a good size length of rope in the loft to make a handle for the sled.

The baby began to cry and Jade realized she was hungry, but how was she going to find mother’s milk to feed the child? Thinking more of hydration instead of nutrition, Jade ripped off a piece of clean muslin from inside the messenger bag. Making a little bag, she gently poured some water into it and placed it near the baby’s mouth. At first the baby wiggled and kept turning her head, but soon she had the muslin in her mouth and was sucking down the water.

When the baby had finished drinking the water, she quieted down and went back to sleep. Jade began to pack the sled with the baby and messenger bag, adding the feed sacks. She went out to walk around the barn to look for found. She found a hickory nut tree and began to gather nuts into her shirt as well as a few berries. She went and dumped them into the sled.

Now came the hard part – finding the girl’s family and trying to keep the baby alive while she did. What had she gotten herself into now?

On My Own

2011-02-04T23:40:00.003-05:00

ON MY OWN

Fear trickles down
my spine, but
I made it to the
funeral home without one mistake
Forget about the fact
I had no idea where to go,
I knew I had to show support
to my future son-in-law
and my lovely daughter,
so my friend Google
gave me perfect directions.
The main thing about this amazing feat
is I made it all by myself

Ann Gabhart's Newsletter

2011-01-31T20:35:00.006-05:00

Here is the latest newsletter from Ann H. Gabhart, detailing her lastest book, Angel Sister:

Celebrating the release of ANGEL SISTER!!!

Angel Sister is finally here. The book is out there in stores and online. Some of my family and friends have received copies in the mail. Reviews are popping up. And I’m excited! So I want to share that excitement with you, my reading friends. Lorena Birdsong, the little girl character portrayed on the cover has been stealing people’s hearts at first glance. The best thing about the cover is that it does so accurately capture Lorena’s character and looks. Revell designs great covers for all their books. And look at the back cover. It shows Lorena and Kate, her “angel sister,” playing. I really like that, don’t you? I look happy enough about it all in my author photo and I couldn’t look any happier than I am.As I’ve told you before, this book is a story straight from my heart. And my mom’s heart. The events and characters all rose up out of that mysterious deep well that is a writer’s imagination and are completely fictitious, but that well was fed by the stories my mom and her sisters loved to tell about growing up in their small community of Alton, Kentucky during the 1930s. My Rosey Corner is the Alton of their memories. My Merritt family is very loosely based on their family. My grandmother and grandfather did love to read. My grandfather was a blacksmith and did at one time have a drinking problem. He did serve in France during World War I. That much of the story is based on fact. But he was a cook and didn’t have to go “over the top” and up out of the trenches into combat. My Fern and Graham are the fleshed-out characters brought to mind by the stories my aunts and mother told about some of the odder characters in their community. The place seemed to have more than its share of odd characters, including, as my aunt Bill used to say, “them” – the four Hawkins sisters. And then she would laugh. Just like she’s laughing in this picture that has to be my favorite photo of the four sisters. Bill, the youngest is second from left. Mom’s far left. Margaret is pointing, and Evelyn is on the right. Laughter suited them all. As my mom always tells me, they didn’t have a lot of things but they had a lot of what mattered – love. So I took the feeling of those wonderful memories they shared and from those seeds created my Rosey Corner and my family of four sisters. I am completely indebted to the first four sisters for the atmosphere and background of this story. The rest I made up by imagining how it might have been and what would have happened if. My mother is the only sister left now, but if my aunts were still living, I know they would have enjoyed going back to Rosey Corner with me. And now I’m hoping you’ll want to make that trip too.

The book has already gone into a second printing, and I’m told it may be featured in some Books-a-Million stores. So if that’s where you shop for books, give a look around for it. In my area, a great place to buy the book is at Corinth Christian Book Store in Frankfort. On February 11th at 7 p.m., they’re hosting a book launch for me and also for Virginia Smith with her new release, A Deadly Game. As the title gives away, her book is an inspirational suspense/mystery novel. We’ll both talk about our books and then have a Q&A time. If you can’t make that book launch, I’ll be doing a hometown book launch on Sunday, March 6 at 2 p.m. at the Anderson County Public Library here in Lawrenceburg. Again I’ll be talking about writing this book with special comments about how the setting is Alton, a little community in our county. I changed the name to Rosey Corner, but it’s the Alton my mom knew growing up. At the hometown event, I’ll be giving away a few door prizes. That always makes things more fun.

And of course I have to give something away here and on my website to celebrate a new book. I’m doing something a little different this time. Instead of books, I’m going to send four lucky winners $25 gift cards to either Christian Book or Amazon (their choice). So here’s how you can get your name in the drawings. Send me an e-mail. If you haven’t e-mailed me previously, you can contact me from my website, here. (I’m going to be changing my e-mail address soon. Boy, that’s a lot of trouble, but you can always contact me from the website.) I’ll pick one name out of the “everybody hat.” Then to give you more chances to win, I’ll have that special drawing like the last time for the “I never win anything” group. If you haven’t won before in one of my giveaways, be sure to indicate that. Last and the most fun, I’ll pick two names out of the “Tell me a story” hat. Last time you told me about special Christmas presents. That was so much fun, I want to do it again. Only this time you have to tell me a sister story. If you don’t have a sister by birth, you can tell me about a sister of the heart. It can be a funny happening. It can be why she’s a great sister/friend. It can be something special she’s done for you or maybe something not so nice that you laugh about now. Any story will get your name in the sister drawing. So if you send me an e-mail, plus tell me if you’ve never won anything here and share a sister story, you can have three chances to win. Of course I’ll be blogging about the sister stories because I know I’ll hear some good ones. Don’t worry, I won’t write about them if you ask me not to and I won’t reveal names. So get your e-mails and stories in. I’ll pick the winners March 1. The winners of the Christmas/New Year’s giveaways along with the books they chose and their surprise gifts too are posted on my website Events and News Page.

So send in those e-mails. And remember you can always keep up with me and join in the conversation on my blog, One Writer’s Journal, at www.annhgabhart.blogspot.com or on my author Facebook page. And I’m twittering too if you want to follow me there. Last don’t forget to check out my Events and News Page for places where we might meet in person or where you can read on-line interviews (usually with a chance to win an autographed book) on the blog. For you book club members, I’ve posted discussion questions for Angel Sister on the Angel Sister link of my website and I’d love to come visit your book club in person if you’re not too far away or by phone if the plane ticket’s too expensive.

Thanks for reading and in closing, here’s an old Irish blessing for you.

“May God grant you always…a sunbeam to warm you, a moonbeam to charm you, a sheltering angel so nothing can harm you.
Laughter to cheer you. Faithful friends near you. And whenever you pray, heaven to hear you.”

Ann

Fireflies

2011-01-19T22:18:00.003-05:00

(Artwork by Dazlilangel)

Under the lovely full moon,
the fire begins to grow,
blazing up in crackling swirls.
The embers seem to glow and fly
around the surrounding area.
Most of the embers,
burn themselves out,
but
one or two slip into the sky
and they fly and fly.

The original Fireflies,
good luck pieces of fire
that when past a
certain time
become alive and seek out
a true soul who needs
occasional magical help.

Lunatic

2011-01-19T21:17:00.006-05:00

(Photo/artwork by Fiction's Fool)

"You may be right, I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for"

A lunatic ... like the people who used to get locked up in asylums and sometimes tied to their beds?

No thanks ... I want my lunatic to be fearless and funny, kinda like walking across the top of a fully running dam, while acting like you're about to fall.

I want my lunatic to take me to scary movies and not laugh at me when I have to cover my head - especially when clowns are involved.

“Turn out the light, don't try to save me"

I want my lunatic knight in shining armor to come to my rescue when I'm in trouble or just feeling down. So yes, I'll save you, if you save me.

“Don't try to fake it"

I like my lunatic the way he is and I don't want him to change, but I'm afraid I'll change again, so I want him to be adaptable to my strange moods.

... But as the saying goes ...

“You may be wrong, for all I know, you may be right"

**Song lyrics by Billy Joel**

Comfortably Numb

2010-11-29T22:47:00.006-05:00

Comfortably Numb

Depression is an illness millions of people suffer through for weeks, months, even years. It may be simple post-partum blues, or depression because of grief, or sometimes it’s the bottom of the barrel and you can’t see you way out. It makes you feel lonely and afraid.

“Hello?
Is there anyone in there?
Just nod is you can hear me.”

What if you can’t nod from exhaustion? You try at first to take care of your depression as you retreat farther and farther from your family, your friends, the world.

The family tries to persuade you to go see a doctor, but you resist. You’ve had these feelings before and you’ve always – always – pulled out of it by yourself.

But this time things are getting worse and the next thing you realize all you want to do is pull out in front of a tractor trailer and end it all. This is when you know you’re in deep shit. As soon as you drive the last mile to work, you make an emergency call to the nearest psych center.

“I’ll need some information first.
Just the basic fact,
Can you show me where it hurts?”

I want to scream – IT HURTS EVERYWHERE!! I need help before something bad happens to me or my family. So off I go to the fix-me-up place.

“Okay
Just a little pin prick
… you may feel a little sick.
Can you stand up?”

Group therapy, individual therapy, no notebooks with wires – my favorite kind – how the hell will I be able to write? The first few days I’m a zombie with no thoughts of my own.

“I have become comfortably numb.”

This is not solving my problem, I want to be a normal wife again, a mother, a daughter, a grandmother, a writer – but never a nurse ever again - never ever.

“When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.”

I am no long a child and I have a dream. The pain is not over and it will always be there back in the shadows of your mind. I will sometimes have dark days looming, but now they are coming in longer waves. I close my eyes, pulling on willpower to move forward.

“I no
longer want
to be
comfortably
numb”

**Song lyrics by Pink Floyd**

Trust the Inside Not the Outside

2010-11-21T15:48:00.000-05:00

TRUST THE INSIDE NOT THE OUTSIDE

Beauty lies in the ignorant
because that is all they have to fall back on.

Don't judge a book by its cover
because you'' miss some of the best literature ever written.

Just because you were not rich growing up,
doesn't mean you are rich in intelligence.

Glasses, pimples, greasy hair with a loud mouth,
gays or geeks or nerds doesn't give others the right to bully.

Sugarcult - Christine

2010-11-15T18:40:00.002-05:00

CHRISTINE
by Sugarcult

what's wrong?
i feel so alone again.
the look in your eyes sometimes...
pretending that it's all right.
make up and move on,
our ways never change
and i can get anyone that i want -
you'll see christine.
and i would do anything if you could believe in me,
but girl-you play those tricks
and make a fool out of me.
that's the way it goes here.
i can't stand loving you anymore.
i try my best, but i'm back for more.
my heart beat stops every time you leave me.
hanging on lately...
last night,
she came back into my life.
to play with my head this time.
she's hanging me out for dead
i take it and move on,
our ways will never change
and i can get anyone that i want -
you'll see christine.
and i would do anything if you could believe in me.
but girl, you play those tricks
and make a fool out of me.
that's the way it goes here.
i can't stand loving you anymore.
i try my best, but i'm back for more.
my heart beat stops every time you leave me.
hanging on lately...
take her away, take her away, take her away from this place.
take her away, take her away, take her away from this place.
what's wrong?
i feel so alone again.
i flunked out a thousand times,
it's making me realize,
that i'm back and better for us.
our ways will never change
and i can get anyone that i want -
you'll see christine.
and i would do anything if you could believe in me.
but girl, you play those tricks
and make a fool out of me.
you'll see, christine.

Old Memories

2010-11-15T18:17:00.003-05:00

Uploaded with ImageShack.us

OLD MEMORIES

Ancient in years, but still holding onto

the special charm making it beautiful.

Windows need replacing and probably casings, too,

but the bricks and stone continue to hold

the mortar used to make this antique house

stand on firm ground.

And although most people do not like the green moss

making its home on the stone steps and up to the porch.

Number one, green is my favorite color, and two, the

moss is furry and soft

makes a natural pillow to give a decent night's sleep.

I've no idea who owns this home, but I can take it on

faith that no one lives here,

unless it is someone like me.

Shrouded Heart

2010-11-13T15:22:00.001-05:00

(Photo copyright www.profilebrand.com)

SHROUDED HEART

Darkness hangs like a shroud;
sooner or later, we will be together again -
our love is all we need.

I'm so excited ....

2010-09-28T21:10:00.002-04:00

... here is the cover proof of the book "Images of America: Harrodsburg" which Anna Armstrong and I are writing ....

What do you think! Personally, I LOVE it, but I'm a little prejudice.

Too many books, so little time

2010-09-19T18:01:00.004-04:00

To much writing and not enough reading makes Bobbi a dull, overworked woman. I decided to take the day off today and catch up on some reading. Since the last book I read was "Mockingjay" - the last book in the Hunger Games trilogy - I'm having a hard time deciding what to read. I've narrowed it down to four choices:

1.) "Battle Royale" by Houshun Tahami - the Japanese version of "Hunger Games" - published in America in 2003, several years before "Hunger Games"

2.)"Infinity" by Sherrilyn Kenyon - first book in the Chronicles of Nick

3.) "Pretty Little Liars" by Sara Shepard - first book in the Pretty Little Liars series - this has been turned into an ABC Family series and one of my newest guilty pleasures.

4.) "Clockwork Angel" by Cassandra Clare - a prequel to the Mortal Instruments Series

Decisions, decisions ... eeny, meeny, minny, moe - "Infinity" it is.

Spell-Bound

2010-09-16T04:15:00.004-04:00

SPELL-BOUND

Terrifying experiences
signal a disaster is coming.
Although the surface seems calm and serene,
unbeknownst to them,
strange things have begun to happen
A long dead woman,
spell-bound by her beauty,
has been lured from her grave,
to make them pay,
to seek her revenge.

(Photo by Randy Ellefson)

Shambles

2010-09-16T03:30:00.000-04:00

SHAMBLES

A summer storm has subsided
and all is quiet,
but there are continued hints of clandestine gloom.
Everything is now in ruins
and an ever growing mystery
is leading to a new event,
drawing us closer to catastrophe.

(Photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixels Narratives)

Interesting Sights in Wally World

2010-09-12T11:33:00.004-04:00

INTERESTING SIGHTS IN WALLY WORLD

Wally World is the cheap store to buy all types of items,
but the class of people who come here is wide, varied and strange.
Preppies who wear their teeny shorts with assess hanging out.
Large women, like me, who waddle in under the supposed veil of darkness,
only to have the bright lights shows every layer of fat.
Rednecks with no shirts on, or wearing shirts that are so dirty
you wonder when they were last washed.
Well-to-do people who seem to look around,
before finally placing an item in their carts.
Women with "back" boobs;
men who need man bras.
Land yachts and SUVs taking up 2 parking spaces,
just so no one will hit their precious cars.
People with handicapped tags appearing to have no problem jogging across the lot,
or at least moving at an easier pace than me.
Most of the gay population coming at night to avoid the stares and evil words.
Small children left to run across parking lots
while their parents make conversation near the Wal-Mart doors or by their cars.
Watch out cars; be careful of these wayward children.
Parents who allow their children to stand up in the shopping buggies,
where the chance of tipping over is too great.
Parents who allow their children to run wild throughout the store,
or those who attempt to discipline by screaming at the top of their voices.
Is it any wonder I don’t go shopping anymore?
The sign on the truck above says it all,
... We Sell for Satan, Always ...
I prefer waiting in the car and enjoying the menagerie enter the store
watching the antics with a pen and paper in hand.

Jade and the Old Woman

2010-09-12T03:26:00.006-04:00

(Photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

JADE AND THE OLD WOMAN

Jade walked down the old brick sidewalk, stepping gently over a few cracks and loose bricks. Even though she was over six feet tall, the glamour didn't keep her from tripping if she wasn't looking where she was going. The occasional person she met on the sidewalk paid no attention to the plain young woman walking down the sidewalk. She laughed to herself thinking of the green skin and long thin legs that no one could see but herself.

She was looking for a new place to live and she'd had a friend recommend a boarding house on Daisy Street. As she carefully watched the house numbers increase in size, she finally stopped at 1132 Daisy and looked at the sight before her. Before here was a metal gate with an arbor covered in thick green morning glory vines. The glories had not started to bloom yet, but they promised a delightful array of colors in the coming weeks.

Two clay urns marked the entrance on each side of the sidewalk and Jade stood looking over the gate at the two-story house. She knew from her friend that there was also an attic room and this was the room that was for rent. Cheap, which was exactly Jade's price range. Because she came from the planet of Jadocon, she was used to the hot dry air that would be present in the attic room during the summer.

Four white round post held up the front portico and they each had several layers of red paint, reminding Jade of a candy cane. She had been introduced to candy canes during her first winter on Earth, but her best friend Devan. She felt a wave of sadness come over her at the thought of losing Devan. Life on Earth had been so much better when she had a friend she could share her secrets with.

Now, she was on the run again and trying to stay ahead of the people who wanted to capture her and use her as a science rate. This quirky, eccentric house should throw the scientist off for a few months, allowing Jade to regain her strength and decide what her next plan of action would be. She still had four more years to spend on Earth before she could go home to Jadocon and if she couldn't escape these people, she would not learn everything she needed to learn.

The inviting red door beckoned to her to her and she opened the squeaky gate and stepped onto the red brick sidewalk, similar to the one on the street side, only a lighter shade of red. There were lush green gardens on each side of the sidewalk and several Boston ferns sitting and hanging from the front porch.

There was no door bell to ring, only an old-fashioned door knocker in the shape of lion's head. Jade hesitated but a moment, then grasped the knocker and rapped three times on the door. She waited several minutes before she knocked again, and this time she was answered by a quiver voice, "Hold your horses - I'm moving as fast as I can."

When the door opened, the woman on the inside of the door and the girl on the outside of the door both stared at each other in shock. The older woman looked to be older than any human Jade had encountered on Earth, she had never seen so many wrinkles and character in one face. The older woman looked at the girl and saw - not the illusion of glamour - but the tall green girl with large black, almond-shaped eyes. They both gasped in surprised.

The Memory Lives On

2010-09-10T00:01:00.002-04:00

This is a poem I wrote last year - I thought it appropriate to run it again this yearl

THE MEMORY LIVES ON
September 11

I was going through a rough spot in my life,
in between jobs from birthing babies to elderly care.
I finally had the day off and after seeing my family off to school and work,
I settled in to enjoy the TODAY show.
No sooner did I have my nest made when the first plane hit the first tower.
Was it a horrible accident?
Had something gone terribly wrong?
Or were we under attack from a growing terror
we’ve kept on the back burner too long?
Bomb drills and survival skills raced through the edges of my mind
as I tried to comprehend what was going on.
Never one for telephone calls, I detested using the phone,
but I needed to have some answers
so I picked up the receiver to make my first call.
My hubby wasn’t quiet to work yet, but still on his long commute
and he turned on the radio to listen.
Still in shock, I was on the phone again with my soul sister, Linda Loo,
when the next tower was hit.
What the hell is going on?
What do we do?
Why hasn’t the Emergency Broadcast System made an interruption?
They interrupt programming when the wind blows the wrong way, but not today.
Throughout the next hours I was glued with horror
to the images coming from the frosty screen.
Airplanes,
box cutters,
terrorist attacks – how is this happening in the great USA?
And why is Bush Jr.,
our Commander in Chief,
reading a book upside down to the children gathered around him in a classroom?
Why doesn’t he do something – anything to make the horror stop?
Our lives will never be the same again, our freedom has been threatened.
I feel I dug a hole that day to bury myself away,
but all the pain and suffering in my personal life just no longer seems to compare.
And now it’s eight years later and the New York skyline remains ruptured –
our tribute to the terrorist,
by our lack of cohesive structure.

Shroud of Darkness

2010-09-09T17:29:00.002-04:00

SHROUD OF DARKNESS

Darkness hangs like a shroud,
sooner or later we'll be together again.
Our love is all we need.

All is silent, ominously silent,
violence will continue,
an event setting off a chain of events.

A blaze of flame at the top of the cliff,
begging, pleading - then burst into flames;
he is gone, never to return.

A great storm rages over the heaven,
a rainless storm
for vengeance has become an obsession;
and he takes advantage of the opportunity for revenge,
by killing the girl his enemy loves;
turning her into a grotesque skeleton of his lost love.

Darkness hangs like a shroud,
as the stormy night draws closer to dawn.
A young man broods over a decision;
an era gone by,
the threshold between past and future.
Torn between the woman he once loved and the one he now loves.

Morning, a morning that should be a happy one,
love that lasted through time,
haunting adventure,
mysterious and terrifying
stands in majestic isolation.

Under the brightness of a full moon,
but no one knows that under this full moon
means something it has never meant before.
It is the sign of a new and evil power
that prowls the woods in search of a victim.

First night with strange and weird discoveries -
faint voices from the past
over an ancient phone with on wire connections.
There is a storm raging, a storm that can't block out
the wails of the past, the wails legends say
come when there is someone to die, the wails of the dead.

Darkness envelopes the world tonight for an incantation has been performed to rid the house of strange spirits roaming the halls -
there is danger in this night -
a mysterious voice from beyond the grave and a new terror
will take over the feelings of the frightened family.

The great halls echo, with the rumble of thunder illuminated
by light flashes of the angry storm, as two angry
spirits battle in conflict - spirits long since dead,
as the rain finally starts to fall.

Dangerous Curiosity

2010-09-07T22:47:00.005-04:00

DANGEROUS CURIOSITY

The fiery evening sun
is settling into the darkness,
and will encase the secrets
determined to disclose the curiosity
which may mean grave danger.

No one is safe from the nameless terror
that hangs so close - hoping fears
will be put to rest

Fear

2010-08-31T21:25:00.005-04:00

(Photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

FEAR

There is a stillness in the darkness
enveloping the world,
fear stalks the living.

A pale, peaceful moon illuminates
the great expanse of lawn,
but the barn upon it will know no peace
because of disappointment leading to terror;
a welcoming touch that can cause death or destruction.

It is dusk and faint rays of light come down
to creep across the silent meadows and fields;

secrets, secrets that could cost a life.

The sun has gone down and the night seems
darker
lonelier than before
and we live with the fear.

Unlucky

2010-08-31T21:07:00.006-04:00

(Photo from The Sixth Minky)

UNLUCKY

Friday the 13th
Murphy's law
scare of my life
twice in one week

Nothing

2010-08-31T20:46:00.005-04:00

(Photo by Dan Felstead of "Wood and Pixel Narratives")

NOTHING

When you're in love at 17,
you think you know everything.
It's not until you're 47,
so you realize you know nothing.

Crazy M-I-L

2010-08-31T19:59:00.005-04:00

CRAZY M-I-L

Crazy,
pure and simple crazy.
Not coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs crazy,
but full of bragging and constant deceit,
and thinking only of herself.
Full of evil deeds, with plots and planning -
so glad she is out of my life.

Yorkie Rides a Harley

2010-08-31T19:46:00.005-04:00

YORKIE RIDES A HARLEY

I saw a young man
upon a motorcycle today,
a sleek white beautiful Harley with
glistening chrome handle bars.
There was nothing unusual about this man,
other than he wore no protective headgear,
but that is his choice to make, not mine.
What drew me to him was the tiny compartment
on the seat behind his back,
for in this compartment,
strapped in with a red seat belt
was a tiny toy Yorkie.
She wore a pink bandanna around her little neck,
that's how I knew she was a girl;
and she seemed to be enjoying the ride,
because as the wind ruffled her tannish hair

I swear I saw her grin.

On a Hot Summer Night

2010-08-31T19:29:00.005-04:00

ON A HOT SUMMER NIGHT

Crying
Sarah, answer your phone
Clang, clang of the see-saw
Squeak of the swings
Watch both ways
Siren from fire truck
Kids squealing
Kids laughing
The ice cream truck bell
Leaves rustling
Birds crying
Wind blowing
Words forming

Dear Neighbor #7

2010-08-31T19:24:00.002-04:00

Dear Next-Door-Neighbor,

I am a better person than you. Your life must be so void of anything else to do that you feel the need to mess with my life. I am the better person and one day you will get what you truly deserve. Until then, I'm going to try and never think of you again. If you can't handle that, then tough - move away. We were here first.

Sincerely,

Your Next-Door-Neighbor

When I Can’t Write

2010-08-31T19:12:00.003-04:00

When I can’t write, then I’m either sick or something is wrong. I write from the time I get up until I can’t keep my eyes open at night. I may never write the Great American Novel, but I have been an obsessive writer since I was eleven years old.

I keep a daily journal, work on several blogs and I have many freelance jobs at the present. Everything makes me feel like writing. It may not be what I should be writing, but I’m always putting words on paper or keyboard.

Right now, there is a group of kids on the swing set (Old Fort Harrod Park) and they are inspiring a poem. Even though I may only jot down single words, they will end up as a poem or story before the night is over.

Rainy days inspire me more than sunny days, because I love the smell and feel of rain in the air. My wildflowers inspire me because they are God’s gift – pampered, hybrid flowers just don’t mean the same to me.

The past two months, my words and writings have been about my youngest daughter, Christine and her plans for college at Berea. Over the past month, since the illness and death of my Momma, I have filled two and a half notebooks with words, thoughts and prayers. I’m not ready to turn them into anything yet, but the words are there when I’m finally ready.

The past few days have been the best because they have been filled with words and thoughts about my first grandchild, Devon Mikayla. Of course, she is not my official first grandchild because I have a step-grandchild, Delilah Rose, who is the sweetest little two year old you would ever want. But there will always be a special place in my heart for my little Tadpole.

Words come easy for me, if not, something is wrong.

Dear Neighbor #6

2010-08-30T19:32:00.001-04:00

Dear Next-Door-Neighbor,

Just because you think it's hot to mow your yard 3 times a week in your pink bikini, doesn't mean we should have to look at it. This is a child-friendly neighborhood, so please cover up - or at least wear a decent shirt.

Sincerely,

Your Next-Door-Neighbor

Dear Neighbor #5

2010-08-26T16:13:00.004-04:00

Dear Next-Door-Neighbor,

Please don't throw your nasty cigarette butts in my yard and flower beds. Number one, it's just plain rude! Number two, you may get lung cancer - and wouldn't that be a shame. And number three, you smoke while driving a gas-powered lawnmower - one day you may just go BOOM!!

Sincerely,

Your Next-Door-Neighbor

Dear Neighbor #4

2010-08-26T09:57:00.002-04:00

Dear Next-Door-Neighbor,

It may be hard for you to believe, but yes, I do leave several portions of my backyard unmowed. It provides food & shelter for birds & other small creatures. Worried about mice and snakes - well, the pair of red-tailed hawks seem to be taking pretty good care of them - not to mention the feral cats roaming the neighborhood and your little yappy dogs barking all the time. If we keep destroying natural habitats, then we will suffer in the long run.

Sincerely,

Your Next-Door-Neighbor

Dear Neighbor - #3

2010-08-25T08:41:00.003-04:00

Dear Next-Door-Neighbor,

Why, yes - that was me giving you the one-fingered salute as I have driven past your house the past few days. Petty, I know, but very satisfying nontheless. I just hope you're able to capture the image on your 2 video cameras sticking out of your front windows, because taking a picture last mu...ch longer.

Sincerely,

Your Next-Door-Neighbor

Dear Neighbor - #2

2010-08-24T18:09:00.005-04:00

Dear Next Door Neighbor,

If you feel the need to throw your rotten tomatoes somewhere, why not use a d**n trashcan - or do the natural thing and compost. My yard is NOT your trashcan. If you want to throw it into MY compost heap, that's one thing, but don't just pitch things into my backyard. Seriously, you may wake ...up one day with rotten tomatoes on more than your backyard.

Sincerely,

Your Next Door Neighbor

Dear Neighbor - #1

2010-08-23T20:35:00.004-04:00

Dear Next Door Neighbor,

If your harsh, chemical spray kills my sedum, Goldenrod and vinca, you may be very sorry. Just because you want to pollute the air by scalping your yard with a lawnmower 3 times a week, doesn't mean we all do. My shrubs and trees are trying hard to compensate for the damage you're doing to our... environment.

Sincerely,
Your Next Door Neighbor

Surviving Grief

2010-08-23T00:21:00.004-04:00

(Photo copyright All Poetry.com)

SURVIVING GRIEF

We have mourned and wept for those who have passed on.
Our tears have dried, but our hearts are scarred eternally;
life is contained and our memories serve to freshen the wound.
We are therefore vulnerable to shock that has turned to regret.

Of all the grieved we will soon be drawn,
some to faint rays of light which appear on the horizon,
and others disappearing into the darkness.
We have known what it is to live in the darkness,
what it is to find a moment of light,
only to be plunged into darkness again,
For one who seems to be a friend, has separated
the present reality to a fake reality,
and salvation has been denied.

To live, to exist, is to expose oneself to uncertainty.
Changes are all around us
and we can never be sure when new perils will arrive.
But jeopardy does not respect time
and we must be prepared for the next encounter.

To College or War

2010-08-22T22:17:00.000-04:00

TO COLLEGE OR WAR

My daughter is off to college today,
it's almost like going to war.
Trunks are filled, bags are packed,
the house is feeling smaller already.
I think this is a good thing,
even a great thing,
but the thought of my baby being gone
is a bitter pill to swallow.
Posters off the wall, books carefully packed away,
Disney characters stare back at me,
wondering where their owner has gone.
Harrodsburg, Danville and into the heart of Lancaster.
Thistles, Joe Pye Weed, Crepe Myrtle, Ironweed and Goldenrod,
bloom along the way.
A cliff lined with limestone,
blasted away to make room for these asphalt roads.
Paint Lick Elementary School in Cartersville -
Highway 954.
Yellow tobacco waiting to be cut,
and creek beds drying with rocks peeking up their heads on each side.
Cattails sway in the breeze as we follow a truck containing
a Crucifixion cross like a scene from "Mad Max."
Madison County, East 21,
Berea,
my God, we're almost there.
Blondies's Ice Cream Parlor and the Circle K,
and our honeymoon spot - the Holiday Motel.
Berea College approaches,
the time is finally here.
I know it is not a good-bye,
just an, "I'll see you later,"
but why does it feel like forever?

~~August 21, 2010

Dragonfly Ballet

2010-08-19T01:35:00.000-04:00

DRAGONFLY BALLET

Dragonfly chasing a butterfly -
swooping above the scorching parking lot.
A delicate ballet - rapid fire of blue translucent wings
and the chunky, slowness of yellow ones.

Gusts of wind send a discarded bottle cap on a
jaunt across the black asphalt,
catching and dropping into each cervice and dip.

Hot, warm breeze on a mid-August day -
how sweet it is.

The Night Has Ended

2010-08-15T09:53:00.003-04:00

This is another poem inspired by a photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives.)

THE NIGHT HAS ENDED

Frightening sight, an apparition from the past,
even by day can be immensely dangerous place,
with many unsolved mysteries and grave danger.
Determined to seek out the truth,
a secret from the past
which can force things once thought long gone,
thus could make things happen even though we have
difficult decision to decide our path of existence.
Streaks of red, the color of blood, mix with rain the color of the sky
Chase away the sunset, bringing forth the dawn,
but it is like the day would end up with a horrible death
even though the shimmering reflection offers the peace of day,
the sunset usually offers
a raging night could end with a horrible death.

Mysteries

2010-08-15T07:35:00.003-04:00

(This photo is copyright of Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives. Although it doesn't exactly match the tone of the poem, the color are breathtaking. The "...great estate of an enormous heart..." could be the Church - use your own interpretation.)

MYSTERIES

Night clouds hang over the fast approaching dawn,
still holding the dark captive, under the light of the moon.
Twin evils revel a danger with the largest house,
the great estate of an enormous heart,
feeling trapped, a prisoner,
like a women from the dead, come to life,
but seeking the warmth and life from the living.
The light from the moon continues to gleam in the night mist
and it is here an imaginable paranoia intrudes;
time for the woman to follow a new destiny.
It is a strange and disturbing time,
trapped, chained,
unable to follow the different fates or
to what will happen from one life to the other.
Her secrets are now in danger,
no longer able to penetrate the disguise,
unaware of the dangers.
The night continues toward lighter hours,
ancient knowledge,
multiple mysteries,
warping the bands of time to cross the plain,
leaving behind the troubled curse weighing heavy on her mind.
The sun rises blood red at dawn
hanging almost frightful over the countryside.
And even as the dark passes, the mysteries remain
the web has been spun with terror and mystery
as the fissures continue to expand into ever-deepening whispers.

Care and Feeding of Nightmares

2010-08-11T06:18:00.001-04:00

For anyone who would like to purchase my 2nd chapbook of poetry, "Care and Feeding of Nightmares" - you can email me at:

careandfeedingofnightmares@gmail.com

with your snail-mail address. The books are $5 each plus $2 for shipping and handling. I hope to have PayPal set up on my blog in a few weeks for payments, but currently I can only accept checks or money orders. I will mail out the book on the day I receive your order. You can also buy the books at J. Sampson Antiques on Main Street in Harrodsburg. Thanks to everyone who buys a book!

Wake Up and Live

2010-08-10T10:24:00.003-04:00

WAKE UP AND LIVE

I can't see my way around
the dark veil of depression
increasingly squeezing in on my life.
Even medications are not enough to control the suffocating blackness.
Occasionally, tiny specks of happiness are sprinkled through my life,
like bits of candy canes in peppermint ice cream -
sharp, but sweet, lessening the edge of torment.
I've live half my life, so why don't I feel better about myself?
Why does this torture continue,
causing nothing by hopelessness and pain?
Life is too short to live in misery and despair.
I've got to wake up and smell the fresh,
tantalizing fragrance of my family,
my life -
I must wake up and live.

Bright Future

2010-08-10T09:10:00.004-04:00

BRIGHT FUTURE

Out of the fallen dusk
night draws near,
and a stranger, who is not a stranger,
approaches with a soul shaped by remembrance and loneliness.
The persistent strain of moans and groans,
don't rule out the possibilities.
The shapes of the stories and descriptions
handed down from roots and blood and soul;
form their own destiny.
Indulging in fanciful attitudes
will only lead to sadness from the past.
So return to live the life you never got to live,
the uneasy days,
the invasion of privacy,
the great mystery is finally over.
The future awaits, and it is a bright future indeed.

Time

2010-08-10T08:46:00.003-04:00

TIME

I want time to blow the fluff from a dandelion.
I want time to blow a bubble that sparkles like a rainbow
as it bounces on the breeze.
I need the time to see how many licks it takes
to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
Give me time to smell the roses and lilacs, the herbs and wildflowers.
Give me time to taste a fresh, juicy peach, the perfect tomato from the vine -
Rocky Road ice cream.
Time to feel my lovers arms around me;
time to nuzzle with my little tadpole;
time to tell my girls "I love you."
I want to hear the serenade of frogs on a hot summer night,
time to hear the red-tailed hawk calling to his mate.
I need time to see the beauty of nature,
be it God, Goddess or Spirit - thank you.
Thank you for the time you've given me on this earth;
and if it is in your power, allow me to remain just a little longer.

Layers

2010-08-01T21:41:00.004-04:00

LAYERS

What?
Can't I have layers?
Onions have layers, although they may make you cry.
I'm more than what you see on the surface -
but why don't you look beyond?
Down deep into my soul, which encases my heart,
all the way up high to my brain with its right and left side,
all gray matter and neurons firing out of control.
I'm more than I seem,
don't judge a wildflower by its petals;
on the outside most are pretty, but the wonderful uses are inside.
See me,
see my layers,
see all my layers
before jumping to conclusions.

Loch Ness is Yummy

2010-07-31T19:52:00.004-04:00

As many of you know, my youngest daughter, Christine, turned 18 this week. Even though she is legally an adult know, here is a picture of the special request birthday cake "Sharon's Cakes" made for her:

Of course, one of the first things my brand-new 18 year old did was go to the Mercer Public Library and have her status changed so she could check out VHS tapes and DVDs. What did she come home with? Winnie the Pooh videos ...

Maybe she's not growing as fast as I thought she was. If only I could keep her like this forever ...

Old Fort Playground

2010-07-30T19:34:00.004-04:00

Our camera computer has been in the shop, so I don't have an actual picture of the destruction at the Fort Harrod Playground, but I will post them as soon as I can. Maybe this is going to be a good thing - many things have to get worse before they get better.

Old Fort Playground

Bare, scraped clear of anything green,
leaving behind only yards and yards of
damp rain soaked dirt.
Trees have been trimmed,
branches laying helter-skelter across the road and dirt.
What has happened to one of my favorite lunch time spots?
Are improvements in store,
or is the land being raped for other reasons?
It makes me sad to see the death and destruction
of God's natural gifts,
but I will learn patience as I watch and see
what will become of this once peaceful place.

Lunch in the Fort Park

2010-07-29T20:40:00.003-04:00

Lunch in the Fort Park

I've come to the park to enjoy the sun,
but end up listening to the non-stop cries of a baby.
The air still holds a cooling nip as it brushes along my skin,
making occasional goosebumps stand at attention.
Wisps of hair lightly blow in a dancing sea of gold,
the rampant gray strands shine like silver.
Coffee tree pods still cling to bare branches,
shimmering in the treetops.
The grass remains brown and damp,
with a scant amount of snow still present in the dark shadows.
Long lost leaves skip across the ground with the breeze,
appearing alive, but long past prime.
A crow caws from above as a pair soar on high,
and Robins tweet and search the ground for juicy morsels of worms.
No flowers are present in this historic park -
no perennials peak their early heads.
But dogwoods appear to be budding, a promise of impending beauty.
A Sycamore tree proudly displays its beautiful white bark,
before the hand-size leaves begin to appear and hide the color from sight.
Mistletoe also clings for life, a beautiful parasite,
but up so high, only birds can see, the last pale hint of flowers.
The marriage temple stands alone, a stark contrast around the landscape,
red bricks appear fresh after a morning sprinkled by the white doors
closed in quiet relief.
The long lost sun peeks out his head to give a warming glow.
The baby has quit crying and my lunch hour is almost complete;
time to leave serenity behind for an afternoon back in the real world.

Journal of Kentucky Studies

2010-07-29T19:28:00.000-04:00

I am so excited! One of my poems - "Silent Memories" - has been selected to be published in the next edition of the Journal of Kentucky Studies, published by Northern Kentucky University.

This will be a special issue honoring James Baker Hall.

1st Trip to Elliott County

2010-07-22T21:42:00.001-04:00

I have permission to post this commentary from a day in the life of a TV news reporter and videographer - courtesy of Kristen Pflum (reporting) and featuring my hubby (videographer). Hilarious!! WLEX is definitely "coverage you can count on!"

1st Trip To Elliott County, Definitely A Memorable One - July 22, 2010

There aren't too many counties in central or eastern Kentucky that I have not visited in my five years at WLEX. They're serious when they say "Coverage You Can Count On," even if it's on the boundaries of our viewing area. We go EVERYWHERE.

Obviously, the big news this week has been the constant rain and the havoc it's wreaking on flood prone areas of eastern Kentucky. Monday and Tuesday it was Pikeville, overnight the northeastern part of the state took a pretty good hit, thus my trip today to Elliott County. I always thought that county looked tiny on a map. I found today, winding down miles and miles of rural roads in a 1-ton satellite truck, it's bigger than it seems.

My photographer Keith and I were trying to work quickly so that we could meet our other crew who was covering a missing woman in neighboring Carter County. Long story short, we drove several miles looking for damage visual enough to show in our 5:30 newscast and in the process of searching came across some interesting things. While I was shooting an "as-live" (as we call it) Keith and I heard something in the water. Sounded like a paddle boat swishing around, but then I heard the "mooooo!." It was a poor cow who had become stranded in the flood waters. He was coming to check out what we were doing...and scared the bageezus out of the reporter in the pink boots (me) in the process!

The stylin' pink rain boots

We were then told to keep going down the water covered road to find the bridge that was washed out over Little Brushy Creek. That's when we were told, "just turn at the big, huge red barn." If you saw the picture I posted, the barn didn't match that description AT ALL, but we found what we were looking for so no biggie...

The RED barn that was actually BLACK

When we were finished, we hit the road again that would take us to Carter County and while on our way, we saw one of the cruelest things I've ever witnessed. We were rounding a corner on one very rural road and came up on a woman who was stopped on the side of the road. As we passed (in a rolling billboard of LEX 18 I might add) the woman opened the back door and shooed a small dog out of the car, slammed the door and peeled off. The dog was so confused that he just sort of did a few circles in the middle of the road and took off into the woods. It might have been one of the more heartbreaking things I've ever witnessed. No doubt I've heard about that, but to see it actually happen was very sad. Needless to say it was a looooong day. I didn't pull into my driveway til around 8:15.

My hubby didn't get home until after 9pm because he had to drive home from Lexington.

Peace and Well-Being Seminar

2010-07-19T18:25:00.000-04:00

Check out this new venture by one of our Inkblots:

Introducing...
Peace & Well-Being

Free Seminars this Sunday July 25th, 2010
by Ms. Pat Osborn

• Healthy Diet, from 2 to 3p.m.
• Exercise Basics, from 3 to 4 p.m.
• Goal Setting, from 4 to 5 p.m.

Harrodsburg, KY * Seating is Limited * $25 value, each

Reserve your spot in one or more classes:

peacefulone@localnet.com or 859-734-6839

My Daddy's Old Truck ....

2010-07-18T21:25:00.006-04:00

.... and his pride and joy.

(My Daddy's on the left)

Waiting

2010-07-18T20:38:00.005-04:00

(Photo copyright Coach Creative Space)

WAITING

Beep, beep, beep -
it's the overriding noise that is always there over everything else. The Emergency Room at the UK Medical Center is certainly not the place I've heard horror stories about - definitely not as bad as I was dreading.

Beep, beep, beep -
keeping rhythm with my pounding heart. I'm burning up - hot flash city - power surge of hormonal proportions. I can't seem to keep my mouth moist enough.

Beep, beep, beep -
Mom is lethargic - barely moving a muscle. Labs have been drawn and an IV started - all with skillful sticks. EKG looks slightly abnormal, but then again, I've never been good at reading the EKG leads.

Beep, beep, beep -
there is nothing for me to do but wait and pray. Nothing to do by watch and wipe a fevered brow. Nothing but reading favorite scripts from her worn Bible. Noting to stop the inevitable from happening. Helpless, afraid and lonely - God please watch over us all.

Observations

2010-07-18T20:13:00.001-04:00

OBSERVATIONS

I'm not going to give up.
Stomping in mud puddles and making mud pies.
I will never hurt you.
Curling up with a good book, listening to the rain pitter-patter on the tin roof.
...like Rocky Road ice cream good.
Doritio-stained fingertips leaving orange blotches on the pages of my favorite books.
Some men still holding the door open for women.
Some women holding the door open for men.
The smell of an old book as you flip through the pages.
Not seeing your way around the dark veil of depression that increasingly squeezed in on your life.
Occasionally, tiny specks of happiness sprinkled through your life, like bits of candy cane in peppermint ice cream - sharp, but sweet.
The sun hitting the warmest portion of the chair that your cat has already claimed its own.
Mud slurping from you shoes as you trudge through a marshy shore.
Your hair dancing behind you like fairy wisps in a breeze.
Arguing back at the television, but unwilling to turn it off.
Lips that may crack from the width of your smile.
Pretending not to notice the obvious reasons we aren't alike.
Obsessing on the reasons we are alike.
Living half your life, knowing there is only one other half left.

You Bring Out the …… In Me

2010-07-15T11:23:00.005-04:00

(Photo copyright Graphic Hunts)

You Bring Out the …… In Me

You bring out the bitch in me.
You bring out the I wouldn’t lift a finger to help you out of a burning fire, in me.
You bring out the “How dare you think you’re better than everyone else,” in me.
You bring out the pure unadulterated hate in me, that I know God may punish me for.
Your bring out the angry stomach hornets and anxious nerves in me.
You bring out the “Why the hell don’t you just stay out of my life,” in me.
You bring out the Cruella DeVille in me.
You bring out the sour stomach and acid reflux in me.
You bring out the evil part of me, the one I am ashamed I feel, but I’ve tried to ignore it and it won’t go away, so I’ll just have to try harder to understand your ignorance.

The Hormone Guide

2010-07-13T21:39:00.004-04:00

A friend of mine sent me this and I thought it was hilarious - so I'm passing it on to you. Women will totally understand this! Men should really memorize it!

Every woman knows that there are days when all a man has to do is open his mouth and he takes his life in his hands!

This is a handy guide that should be carried like a driver's license in the wallet of every husband, boyfriend, co-worker or significant other!

DANGEROUS - What's for dinner?
SAFER - Can I help you with dinner?
SAFEST - Where would you like to go for dinner?
ULTRA SAFE - Here, have some wine.

DANGEROUS - Are you wearing that?
SAFER - You sure look good in brown!
SAFEST - WOW! Look at you!
ULTRA SAFE - Here, have some wine

DANGEROUS - What are you so worked up about?
SAFER - Could we be overreacting?
SAFEST - Here's my paycheck.
ULTRA SAFE - Here, have some wine.

DANGEROUS - Should you be eating that?
SAFER - You know, there are a lot of apples left.
SAFEST - Can I get you a piece of chocolate with that?
ULTRA SAFE - Here, have some wine.

DANGEROUS - What did you DO all day?
SAFER - I hope you didn't over-do it today.
SAFEST - I've always loved you in that robe!
ULTRA SAFE - Here, have some wine.

(Photo copyright Anna Vikoria; by Nikki Hardin and Caitilin McPhillips; illustrated by Traci Dabrake)

12 Things PMS Stands For

1. Pass My Shotgun

2. Psychotic Mood Shift

3. Perpetual Munching Spree

4. Puffy Mid-Section

5. People Make me Sick

6. Provide Me Sweets

7. Pardon My Sobbing

8. Pimples May Surface

9. Pass My Sweatpants

10. Plainly; Men Suck

11. Pack My Stuff

and my favorite one:

12. Potential Murder Suspect

Forward this information to all of your friends and those who might need a good laugh ... and men who need a warning.

Oh and, have some wine.

My Tadpole

2010-07-05T10:59:00.009-04:00

New pictures of my little tadpole ...

She truly is my little tadpole

First bath after her cord fell off

How come there's no milk here?

Tadpole swallowed by a frog!

Devon Mikayla and her dad, Mike

Baby Mohawk!

Come on, Mom - get this bow out of my hair!

Itsty Bitsy Spider

2010-06-14T11:06:00.001-04:00

"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout ..."

My new grandbaby is not even a week old and look how talented she is!

"My Little Oak Tree"

2010-06-14T10:45:00.003-04:00

Papa Rightmyer (my hubby) and Devon Mikayla - June 13, 2010

"My Little Oak Tree"

My little oak tree is a special little oak tree,
and I carry her close to my heart.
Although she's just a little sprout,
I know one day she will be a tall and mighty oak tree.

A main-stem trunk that is tall and true
with strong, straight branches
outreaching to touch so many souls
of the loved one in her life.

Her roots go deep and are anchored down
with compassion, strength, history, wisdom
and love - lots of love.
Planted well to help her grow into
the fabulous person she will become.

Her special parents, Marie and Mike,
will keep her safe and teach her right from wrong.
They will love and nurture her as only parents can do.
But Nana and PaPa Rightmyer will be right there to spoil her rotten,
right along with her Granddad and Grandma Huffman,
her Granny Roberts, her Grandpa Huntsberger,
her Great PawPaw Sallee, her Great MaMaw Rightmyer
her Great Grandma Henniger;
plus those special aunts – Amber, Christine and Cynthia –
and her big sister, Delilah Rose.
I know you’ll be missed by your Great Nana Sallee and your Aunt Amy,
but they are watching you from heaven and are very proud of you.

Devon you are my first,
but hopefully not the last,
and although you will hold a place
secure inside my heart,
there is room for many more to grow.

My little one,
my special one,
my once little tadpole,
but now you’re my little oak tree true.

What Can We Say?

2010-06-14T01:57:00.000-04:00

I wrote this for the Memorial Bulletin at my Momma's funeral. This is the first time I've felt like sending it out into the blogosphere. I promised my Momma I would not write about her, but I don't think she will mind this one little poem. We love you, Momma, and we miss you every minute ...

Brenda Carolyn Devine Sallee
November 6, 1944 – May 23, 2010

What Can We Say?
By Bobbi Dawn Sallee Rightmyer (Daughter)

We learned about love from you, Momma,
by watching your caring ways.
You let us know your endless love
in so many different ways.

We learned all we know about living
because you always gave life your all.
Your unfailing love was without limit,
as was your ability to soothe our hurts.

We learned about joy from you
in many fun-filled yesterdays.
You made us feel important
with endless encouragement and praise.

From you we learned forgiveness,
of faults both big and small.
With open arms and open heart,
you were gentle and yet so strong.

From you we learned to comfort and care,
but your lessons stopped not with family.
You loved your patients and loved your friends
and never said "No" to any calls for help.

Momma, we look at you and see a walking miracle;
you were our teacher and our comforter,
our cheerleader and our rock.
Your unselfishness kept us anchored,
every hour of every day.
You were dependable and full of comfort,
our cushion when we'd fall.

You helped in times of trouble,
though we sometimes caused you pain;
it mattered not what we did,
you supported us all the same.

How did you find the energy, Momma,
to do all the things you did;
to be teacher, nurse and counselor,
and full of inexhaustible love?

Nobody's quite like you, Momma;
you were special in every way.
You cheered us up, you filled our cups
with tenderness, come what may.

Nobody loved us more than you,
no matter what we did;
good or bad, happy or sad,
you were full of unconditional love.

Nobody's equal to you, Momma,
you truly blessed our lives.
We love you so and want you to know,
you were the absolute best.

We know we were all in your thoughts,
your love followed us everyday.
Thank you for all you've done
and given so generously.

We love you, our wonderful Momma,
you will be our blessing from above.
You set us free and steered us straight.
We'll miss you come what may.
The examples you have shown us
and the lessons we have learned
will remain in all our hearts
until we see you again one day.

The Promise

2010-06-09T22:30:00.000-04:00

This poem was chosen to be included in the eAnthology, "You and I" - published by Isles Poetry Association and Aaron Poetry Journal. If this eAnthology is as successful as the first, it will be printed in a hardcover edition and be available on Amazon.

THE PROMISE

Will you be my love forever,

walk hand and hand together?

I’ll be your rock to lean upon,

your shelter till the storm is gone.

When no one is on your side,

wrapped in my arms you can hide.

If you feel lost or alone,

remember how our love has grown.

You sprinkled sunshine in my heart,

you’ve been my friend from the start.

So walk with me forever,

we’ll spend our lives together.

Growing Old

2010-06-02T10:22:00.004-04:00

Here is a poem by my youngest daughter, Christine. She was an honorable mention in the 2010 Student Poetry Contest through the Kentucky State Poetry Society.

Growing Old
By Christine Rightmyer

When you grow up
feeling old,
you wonder what you did wrong
as the weight of the world
worms through the decayed
newspaper clippings of your brain.

Toss and turn,
blissfully lethargic.
Fall into a void
only as cool
as the other side of the pillow.

No sleep for the wicked.
Growing old feels like you should
have been dead years ago.
Making friends with everyone else’s demons,
now you’re buried under insomnia’s
right arm.

You only grow old
when you think about them.

Proud Graduate

2010-05-31T12:22:00.001-04:00

Christine Nicole Rightmyer and her daddy, Keith - graduation night, May 28, 2010

It is hard for me to believe I no longer have a child in high school - where did the years go? My baby - Christine - graduated this past Friday night, with High Honors. To say we are proud of her would be an understatement.

Christine will now have the summer off before packing up to head to Berea College this fall. In case you've forgotten, Christine was awarded a full four-year academic scholarship to Berea. I'm trying very hard not to think about her leaving us, but I am going to miss her so much.

On the grandbaby front - my first grandchild is due any day now. My middle daughter - Marie - has been having some irregular contractions, so I'm hopeful it will be very soon, for her sake. Her due date is June 6th.

At this point in my life, I am still grieving the loss of my mother last week, so my blog posts may be very spotty for the next few weeks/months. In case I don't post again soon, I hope everyone has a fun, healthy, happy summer.

God bless you all ...

Bad News ...

2010-05-24T11:17:00.004-04:00

(Brenda Carolyn Devine Sallee, Christmas Eve 2009)

... I'm sorry for being so out of touch, but I have some bad news to pass on to all my bloggy friends.

My mom passed away Sunday evening about 6pm. She was only 65 yo, but she had been in poor health for at least the past 6 months. We tried a few things in CCU to try and wake up her kidneys and other organs back up, but when we realized they weren't working, daddy made the decision - the right decision and mom's wishes - to turn all the machines off. She was in no pain and thankfully went peacefully.

Please keep my family in your prayers ...

2010-05-19T11:23:00.001-04:00

The wonders of Plantain salve: http://ping.fm/y9y64

2010-05-18T10:33:00.001-04:00

Wildflower of the week - Yellow Sweet Clover: http://ping.fm/qgUsg

2010-05-17T10:46:00.001-04:00

Herb of the week - Basil: http://ping.fm/ETB6x

2010-05-14T10:15:00.001-04:00

Food Friday: http://ping.fm/OQglV

2010-05-14T10:09:00.001-04:00

Food Friday: http://ping.fm/a7B1o

2010-05-12T09:51:00.001-04:00

The Bluegrass is having a Blackberry Winter: http://ping.fm/9eBMv

2010-05-11T11:39:00.001-04:00

What's blooming around the Bluegrass? Mock Orange Shrubs: http://ping.fm/nRB3B

2010-05-11T10:46:00.001-04:00

Learn more about Kentucky author, Ann H. Gabhart: http://ping.fm/O0WBH

2010-05-10T10:35:00.001-04:00

Growing upside down tomatoes: http://ping.fm/0RlSM

2010-05-04T09:59:00.001-04:00

What's growing in the Bluegrass herb garden? Dill: http://ping.fm/zW3zr