The Loss of Interest

 I was interested.

until the pages of the calendar fell

quietly to the floor

I was interested.

in carving a space in the world

to be there when I'm not.

I was interested.

in the burdens you talk about

trying to get my mind around them.

I was interested.

to give my sage advice and opinion

but they fell silently to the floor.

Now I don't

take time out of my unbusy day.

except to plant my flowers wildly

Life is a one soul thing.

I do not need to solve anything.

if it does not affect me

Wildflowers

those matter to me and no one else.

Barb

The World Was Silent

 I haven't posted since "before the pandemic" and my logical self is asking why? Am I so boring when I don't have a world to explore and enjoy? When I am sitting here by myself faced with what chore should I do to keep my bones from freezing up like the Tin Man. 

I have lost the ability to be social with my only interactions at the grocery store or with neighbors. I am an introvert. Not that I don't enjoy being with people but even "before the pandemic", most believe that I am a very quiet person. A snapshot of my brain in a social setting would be astounding if I say so myself. My lips might not move or words spill out for others to ponder but my brain is talking to me. 

I don't know when this will be over. I am vaccinated, boosted and even have gotten the flu shot [I usually don't]. I wear a mask when out, I use that stuff on my hands and I keep my distance. So, what in the world do I do when I am in this invisible bubble?

I planted an entire wildflower garden taking up half of my yard and a tomato garden that gave me the best tomatoes to freeze for making sauces. Gardening with me is a perpetual experiment. I don't particularly like vegetables, so I decided to grow herbs and seriously you get a lot of herbs from small plants. This winter I am working on soups. I love soups with a lot of broth. My latest attempt will be making my own posole. After a great family gathering on Christmas eve, I made ham hock and beans which was fabulous if I must say so myself. 

Well, now that I have posted after two years of silence, maybe I will return to posting. Maybe not.

Barb

Returning to the Farm

It used to be that everyone had a member of the family

who lived and worked on a farm.

When the day started with the crow

of the only rooster

who despite what many think was the original

alarm clock.

There was no time to dawdle or meander

take in the sweet smell of the haystack

or the pure smell of amonia

as the shovel scooped

a day's worth of milk cow poop

for fertilyzer.

The last generation in my family to be farmers

was the last generation of our country that raised or grew

more of their food than they ever bought.

Gone are the small chicken coops,

the garden and fruit trees

churning butter and saving cream.

I don't know if we are better off

with technology

or if it is making us less productive

less healthy or maybe just forgetful of the past.

I grow fruit and have a garden

Some goes to friends and neighbors

Some is eaten by the yard birds

the rest is put up for the winter.

My backyard farm

produces flavorful and costs me in energy alone

Some years are good and some not so

but it is time to return to being

self-sufficient

and reduce our carbon footprint.

barb

Some Days Bad Luck Rules

 

 

 

What is best

a tornado or life at rest

a stain on your tie

a button missing on your vest

 

luck

brought by chance

I went to Spain

but ended up in France

 

 

If it weren't for bad luck

I would have no luck at all

how sad that would be

to feel beset

by chance

and not by one's own actions

 

After a great week

in Vegas

where I never take a chance

my computer gave

up the lively ghost of life

 

My PT Cruiser

now in the hands of another

gave up the ghost

with noises of horrific pain

 

My condo filled out

luck comes in threes

with a major water leak from above

causing a mess no less

 

I just sometimes wonder

whether black cats are bad luck

walking under a ladder

stepping on someone's grave

 

I like the old tales

superstitions and whispered fears

the old graveyards

under the waning moon

 

Things are things

and even though they divert life

they also make you believe

that sometimes life is just a rollercoaster

and you can't always

get off.

 

barb

 



The Tale of Two Affairs

My 16th Novel is now available on Amazon/Kindle

The Tale of Two Affairs is a story about the illegitimate daughter of Jennifer Cooper and Samuel Little in the mid-eighteen hundred.  Rebecca Cooper is raised by her grandfather in the Catskill Mountains west of Kingston, New York.

This story takes you through her determination to get to know her father and as his only child inherits his vast wealth that is left in a trust controlled by his lawyer.  As his illegitimate daughter, her acceptance in the town of Rhinebeck is less than ideal leading her to look elsewhere to begin her life.

Finding a Union veteran living in her grandfather's cabin, Rebecca decides to engage Ryan Ford in a plan to marry her for one year so that she can control her father's trust.  The plan sounded simple and was beneficial to both of these strangers.  Once they set the plan into action his complicated life entraps them in an emotional tornado that encompasses all of her energy and destroys her silent hope that he would fall in love with her during their plan.

Plans rarely work perfectly and love does not come because one wishes it to.  Rebecca falls victim to her own feelings.

The Tale of Two Affairs

Germaphobic...ick!

Yesterday I started working on the ponds following

a long winter that froze them over almost every day of January and

into February.  Part of the pond spring cleaning is that

over the winter the green hair algae grew so I have to by hand pull it out

then treat the water.  I tell you this because touching icky things

does not phase me whatsoever.

little invisible germs

crawling on the handles and buttons

of public places

left behind by a sneeze or a silly cough

my magnifier in hand

I inspect the silver bars and knobs

the railings and elevator buttons

the pen at the front desk

used by a thousand people before you

that little tickle

running up and down the warm throat

produces a series of sneezes

launched with intent

germs spread around me unabashed

I cringe and step back

use my elbows and backside

so not to be in danger

of picking up a hitchhiking monster

intent to make me sick

my fingers are wrinkled

not from old age but constant washing

I use up the liquid soap

only to realize I touched the button

must wash again

I do believe

that I shall buy little white gloves

as the first line of defense

when wandering into public places

excuse me...don't sneeze.

barb

So Sad that Google is Ending Blogs [and other things]

["Blogger" will not be deleted]

it's so sad...so very sad

when the blank canvas

is rolled up and like Elvis left the building.

Google...what can I say

I got your email today

Dear John is how it politely began.

It's been nice...really

but you didn't come by

enough to make the relationship right.

Oh my...oh my

I tried my very best

but you know life and stuff got in the way.

So for all...friends

internet buddies and all

In April...find me on WordPress.

Barb

Google is closing all Google Pages, etc. due to low usage first of April.   You need to download or like Myspace it will just disappear.I will of course miss spilling my thoughts into the broadband of humanity.