California Octobers:
Memories of autumn leaves
crunching under
ghostly feet, witches' brooms
a punk rocker’s boots.
Parents trail hordes
of laughing children.
Washington Octobers:
Frozen nights, snow on
Jack-o-Lanterns.
Princesses and wizards
Dash from warm cars
To rural doorways
And back in a flash.
Oregon Octobers:
Now those tricksters
Treat other callers at
their own doorways.
Time passes by
and old costumes fade
in the cedar chest.
JP 10-24-2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Raggedy Andy
I am not sure when the original Raggedy Andy came into Daniel’s possession and, therefore, into our lives. I believe the tattered sample that resides, lovingly preserved, in the cedar chest in the garage, is the third specimen. Probably Grandma and Grandpa Cooper bestowed the first Raggedy on Dan.
From the beginning, the two were inseparable. Everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE, little toddler Dan went, Raggedy Andy went also. Thumb in mouth, Raggedy held by an arm or leg in a grubby fist, dragging in the dirt or the lawn, the two explored the realm of our acreage on Sandridge Road, the Forest Service compound at Powell, Idaho, and Sandridge again when we returned to California. Even our subsequent tenure in San Ardo saw Raggedy (probably by now, number two) guarding Dan’s voyages around the teacherage and the Salinas River bottoms. Raggedy was almost always on the pillow next to his sleeping boy at night.
Sometime in Davis after Dan began school, no doubt, Raggedy Andy began to get vacations from the love and subsequent hard usage that his comforting presence brought to our son. I am sure the little doll breathed sigh of relief. Certainly, the specimen in our possession still wears the sewn smile and happy countenance even though one leg is held on with only one shred of fabric and scotch tape. The shortness of this passage in no way is indicative of the influence Raggedy Andy had in Dan’s and subsequently in our lives. The eight or nine year legacy of that little doll lives on.
JP 10-23-2011
From the beginning, the two were inseparable. Everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE, little toddler Dan went, Raggedy Andy went also. Thumb in mouth, Raggedy held by an arm or leg in a grubby fist, dragging in the dirt or the lawn, the two explored the realm of our acreage on Sandridge Road, the Forest Service compound at Powell, Idaho, and Sandridge again when we returned to California. Even our subsequent tenure in San Ardo saw Raggedy (probably by now, number two) guarding Dan’s voyages around the teacherage and the Salinas River bottoms. Raggedy was almost always on the pillow next to his sleeping boy at night.
Sometime in Davis after Dan began school, no doubt, Raggedy Andy began to get vacations from the love and subsequent hard usage that his comforting presence brought to our son. I am sure the little doll breathed sigh of relief. Certainly, the specimen in our possession still wears the sewn smile and happy countenance even though one leg is held on with only one shred of fabric and scotch tape. The shortness of this passage in no way is indicative of the influence Raggedy Andy had in Dan’s and subsequently in our lives. The eight or nine year legacy of that little doll lives on.
JP 10-23-2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
4H Buckaroo
Among the many activities that our children were involved in, during our years in Yakima, Scouts and 4 H left the most scars upon me, physically and psychologically. Of all those scars, the nightmare of backwards pig riding heads the list.
Becca, in Junior High (1995) developed a desire to raise pigs for her 4H project. I suppose that cute piglets were the impetus but as we all know, cute little piglets grow up to be BIG, ornery pigs! Hers certainly did. That year, she had two pigs, Rose and Lilly. Don’t ask ! How Becca decided on those two very un-porcine names, I will never know.
Sadly, earlier in the Spring, Rose had died from heat stroke, while we were away on a trip. Scott Brewer had been taking care of them but the water dish was overturned and when he found her later it was too late. (Keene had to bring the tractor shovel over to dig the grave in our field.) Anyhow, by the time for the West Valley 4H Fair arrived, Lilly was ready to show. That pig was BIG!
The 1930 Chevy truck was too high off the ground to use but the transportation problem was solved with Russ Daniels using his horse trailer. Vickie and Becca were doing pigs together and Vickie’s pig was in one of the stalls of the trailer. The other was vacant and waiting for Lilly. As Russ backed the trailer up to the pen, I loosened one side of the hog fence to use as a chute to aim Lilly towards the opening. All was in readiness.
Lilly was balky and did not want to leave her muddy, smelly haven, so I got in there and herded her into the chute. I must have cut quite a figure: rubber boots and shorts. Becca also was in her boots and squelching in the mud and ______ in the pen, holding the “gate” of hog wire to keep the chute intact.
Resignedly, Lilly began to trot down the alley towards the trailer when suddenly, right at the lip of the door, she turned around in a flash and bolted back towards her home. Nothing was in her way but ME! Squealing, she shot right at me and reacting too slowly to move, I found myself on top of the pig, hurtling backwards riding like a demented bronco buster. The salient image I have is of Russ Daniels face split into a huge grin as he laughed out loud.
Mercifully, I remember little of that ride except the coarse bristly feeling of the pig’s skin on my thighs. I think I fell off as Lilly bolted back into the pen…at least that is what I recollect. Of course, we had to do it all over again but this time Russ used a piece of plywood as a prod, right behind Lilly so she could not turn around to repeat her antics.
We were victorious in getting her into the trailer and the two pigs made it to the fair grounds. It was a successful show and sale. Lilly was best of show in her class (for meat) because she was so big. Becca was told that one more pound and she would have been over and disqualified. Maybe the exercise did her good.
I am grateful that Rebecca gave up doing pigs after that. I do not think I would have taken well to a career of being a stunt pig rodeo rider. Russ, and others, never let me forget my debut and to this day it brings smiles and laughs to us all.
Becca, in Junior High (1995) developed a desire to raise pigs for her 4H project. I suppose that cute piglets were the impetus but as we all know, cute little piglets grow up to be BIG, ornery pigs! Hers certainly did. That year, she had two pigs, Rose and Lilly. Don’t ask ! How Becca decided on those two very un-porcine names, I will never know.
Sadly, earlier in the Spring, Rose had died from heat stroke, while we were away on a trip. Scott Brewer had been taking care of them but the water dish was overturned and when he found her later it was too late. (Keene had to bring the tractor shovel over to dig the grave in our field.) Anyhow, by the time for the West Valley 4H Fair arrived, Lilly was ready to show. That pig was BIG!
The 1930 Chevy truck was too high off the ground to use but the transportation problem was solved with Russ Daniels using his horse trailer. Vickie and Becca were doing pigs together and Vickie’s pig was in one of the stalls of the trailer. The other was vacant and waiting for Lilly. As Russ backed the trailer up to the pen, I loosened one side of the hog fence to use as a chute to aim Lilly towards the opening. All was in readiness.
Lilly was balky and did not want to leave her muddy, smelly haven, so I got in there and herded her into the chute. I must have cut quite a figure: rubber boots and shorts. Becca also was in her boots and squelching in the mud and ______ in the pen, holding the “gate” of hog wire to keep the chute intact.
Resignedly, Lilly began to trot down the alley towards the trailer when suddenly, right at the lip of the door, she turned around in a flash and bolted back towards her home. Nothing was in her way but ME! Squealing, she shot right at me and reacting too slowly to move, I found myself on top of the pig, hurtling backwards riding like a demented bronco buster. The salient image I have is of Russ Daniels face split into a huge grin as he laughed out loud.
Mercifully, I remember little of that ride except the coarse bristly feeling of the pig’s skin on my thighs. I think I fell off as Lilly bolted back into the pen…at least that is what I recollect. Of course, we had to do it all over again but this time Russ used a piece of plywood as a prod, right behind Lilly so she could not turn around to repeat her antics.
We were victorious in getting her into the trailer and the two pigs made it to the fair grounds. It was a successful show and sale. Lilly was best of show in her class (for meat) because she was so big. Becca was told that one more pound and she would have been over and disqualified. Maybe the exercise did her good.
I am grateful that Rebecca gave up doing pigs after that. I do not think I would have taken well to a career of being a stunt pig rodeo rider. Russ, and others, never let me forget my debut and to this day it brings smiles and laughs to us all.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Kaanapali
Pale pink skies over Molokai
usher in the dawn.
Golden sun-slanted rays
impale wave crests,
cutting through rifts in grey clouds.
Later, mists shroud emerald valleys.
Plumeria scented dusk fills with
water borne laughter, shouts and joy.
Fiery orange, purle, gold sunsets
curtain-call the day.
8-10-2011
usher in the dawn.
Golden sun-slanted rays
impale wave crests,
cutting through rifts in grey clouds.
Later, mists shroud emerald valleys.
Plumeria scented dusk fills with
water borne laughter, shouts and joy.
Fiery orange, purle, gold sunsets
curtain-call the day.
8-10-2011
On Being 60 in Hawaii
Timeless land, its history
measured in milleniums.
Dotted now with mortals, like myself;
finite and brash.
Treading on the decomposing ramparts
of ancient volcanoes.
Fringed by waters as old as this planet.
We are interlopers
Amid profound natural beauty
and grace.
Masters of all this...or just passing
egotistical specks?
8-9-2011
measured in milleniums.
Dotted now with mortals, like myself;
finite and brash.
Treading on the decomposing ramparts
of ancient volcanoes.
Fringed by waters as old as this planet.
We are interlopers
Amid profound natural beauty
and grace.
Masters of all this...or just passing
egotistical specks?
8-9-2011
Rebirth
Young heads, old heads:
angry, scared, relieved.
Now with the chance to change,
rebuild, renew,
live again.
Perhaps this time,
self-esteem or success
will carry them safely
over the old traps,
stumbling blocks:
addiction, violence,
theft, recklessness.
Open windows of chance,
change and growth.
Seen in a smile,
squared shoulders,
confidence. effort.
Now the new
joy of my life-capstone
of my career: to teach,
guide, facilitate, encourage,
smile back, inspire,
and challenge.
My job.
5-7-2011
angry, scared, relieved.
Now with the chance to change,
rebuild, renew,
live again.
Perhaps this time,
self-esteem or success
will carry them safely
over the old traps,
stumbling blocks:
addiction, violence,
theft, recklessness.
Open windows of chance,
change and growth.
Seen in a smile,
squared shoulders,
confidence. effort.
Now the new
joy of my life-capstone
of my career: to teach,
guide, facilitate, encourage,
smile back, inspire,
and challenge.
My job.
5-7-2011
Daughters
Sacred vessels of life,
laughter,
joy
and love.
Miniatures, in the beginning
of mothers,
aunts,
grandmothers before.
Capturing thier father's heart.
Growing into young women;
strong,
beautiful,
resolute of heart.
Charged with new life:
giving to the future,
molding reason from doubt,
purpose for living.
Raison d'etre of my time on this earth.
3-20-2011
laughter,
joy
and love.
Miniatures, in the beginning
of mothers,
aunts,
grandmothers before.
Capturing thier father's heart.
Growing into young women;
strong,
beautiful,
resolute of heart.
Charged with new life:
giving to the future,
molding reason from doubt,
purpose for living.
Raison d'etre of my time on this earth.
3-20-2011
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