~I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles~

"Bright Visions" Janet Kruskamp

I was beginning to have doubts about my writing but Thank You City farmer for keeping the flickering candle from blowing out in the wind. And thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you that visit me with encouraging words. They never go unnoticed and are greatly appreciated.

I know I write profusely about melancholic topics. I don’t think that makes me any more depressed than the next blogger or for that matter anyone who doesn’t blog. I’m sure people in all walks of life at some time or another has felt or will feel this way when death comes knocking at their door; we are all mortals after all…with feelings… right? Maybe it’s my way in trying to confront death with no fear. To truly try and take the bible in its context and believe in God’s word.

If life were a bowl of cherries ….Gee wouldn’t that be nice. If life had no death… wouldn’t that be a miracle. Looking at the sad things in life makes me more attuned and appreciative of everyday life and I count my blessings for what I have. I love life and find beauty in it; but that isn’t hard to do. It’s the dark side of life that I find absorbing and fascinating because I think it takes one, more time to contemplation and understand its course.

I find sorrow in death because I still need to fully accept God’s word and have complete faith, to truly believe deep in my heart there is resurrection. Death takes away loved ones and you remain back on this barren plane sad and lonely and torn wondering if you’ll ever see them again; I haven’t reached the point of being sure what comes after such a separation. There is still a lingering thought in the back of my mind asking myself is it possible that the human race in all its crowd will ever see each other again in the next life. How will they meet up again? As children, as teenagers, as adults, as lovers, as couples as mothers, daughters, fathers, sons? At the moment it’s all a muddle.

When I look back at the past and look upon a picture of a family in faded sepia… so very melancholic… so distant, I wonder where they are now. Would they be as they were in this picture… still together or would they be different? If I explore death so deeply it is because I love life even more deeply. I don’t want it vanishing away. I wish it would never end but I know one day it will be right at my front door. I just hope there is a heaven just around the bend and that I will be someday with everyone that I have loved in my mortal life on this earth…how I don’t truly know its such a mystery?????????

I started out blogging with the intention of writing a journal to leave behind for my kids and to have a bit of fun with the La Di Da of decorating, gardening and crafting but for a number of reasons I didn’t quite get around to it. I have abundant creativity but money is always a factor in achieving what I want to do. So creations are put on the back burner till the finances allow it. Decorating and gardening follow the same path. The only thing that doesn’t cost me a thing is writing. So I write and I must say I love it as I’m also learning along the way.

In time I will daly with La Di Da, after all it does make one feel happy; no wrong in that. Happiness is suppose to be part of life; too bad that it doesn’t have a place in everyone’s home …it should. I know I’m happy but I don’t have to show it at the moment with the colors of my home. I’m content knowing what makes me feel good having family and I’m enjoying relaxing, reading books and poetry, getting inspired and having fun with other bloggers. I will eventually share with them what they have shared with me. But at the moment I ask to please be patient with me for I have to explore that one step…Beyond and journal it the best that I know how.



So now I leave you with this beautiful and quite well known poetic song which it truly epitomizes who I am. I could never come closer than this to any other poem describing me to a T. I’m a true Pieces ....A Dreamer at heart.

Originally written in 1918 by {a collective pseudonym for the writers James Kendis, James Brockman and Nat Vincent.The song is known as the club anthem of West Ham United Football team in England. I discovered this song recently when my daughter Emma asked me to watch this movie she thought had some very good values and morals to send to its audience. Hooligans is a movie about true friendship, loyalty, relying on each other, always be there ready to protect each other, standing one’s ground and never ever leaving a friend behind. It’s all about being a friend to the end no matter what the crisis or consequences be. Aside from the violence{ which has to be a part of the story line} it was a great movie. I would definately recommend watching it just for what it sends out as important messages and of course the two main characters.We can all learn from this even if its just a little bit.


~I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles~

Im Forever Blowing Bubbles
I’m dreaming dreams,
I’m scheming schemes,
I’m building castles high.

They’re born anew, their days are few,
Just like a sweet butterfly.
And as the daylight is dawning,
They come again in the morning!

I’m forever blowing bubbles,
Pretty bubbles in the air,
They fly so high,
Nearly reach the sky,
Then like my dreams
They fade and die.

Fortune’s always hiding,
I’ve looked everywhere,
I’m forever blowing bubbles,
Pretty bubbles in the air.

When shadows creep,
When I’m asleep,
To lands of hope I stray!

Then at daybreak,
When I awake,
My bluebird flutters away.
“Happiness, you seem so near me,
Happiness, come forth and cheer me!”

I’m forever blowing bubbles,
Pretty bubbles in the air,
They fly so high,
Nearly reach the sky,
Then like my dreams
They fade and die.

Fortune’s always hiding,
I’ve looked everywhere,
I’m forever blowing bubbles,
Pretty bubbles in the air.

A Zillion Earthly Stars

This is an older post from when I first started my blog. I thought about reposting it after reading this evening's post by Sombra http://sombraknight.blogspot.com/. I love collecting rocks that sparkle and shine. I collected so many of these sparkling fossils that I ended up making fairies castles and treasure chests. I'm hoping that soon I can take better photos so that the beauty of the rocks will shine thru. Hopefully this post will be more uplifting and not so depressing like my other posts....sorry about that; it’s just my nature. I admit I've been depressed lately but who wouldn't be under the circumstance? Anyways I'll try to be a little more high spirited for a while. I promise!

"A zillion earthly stars entwined amongst the mossy covered ground. Surely, such a magical place like this must be the fays sweet home of reverie." ~Annabelle~

Finding the death pool was one of my most exciting hiking treks I've ever been on. I usually went for the flowers and trees since I so much love gardening but on this one occasion it was different. When I came across a clearing in the wood, the morning sun was just hitting on the dew covered ground. Drops of rain from the previous night were still on the newly sprung leaves of plants and everything was accentuated twofold. The rays of the sun intermittent by the early morning fog, were casting shadows on the trees when something caught my eye by the twinkle of a leaf. I thought, Oh my I just got winked.
Further down into the sloped clearing I followed what seemed to be a twinkling ring or something like .Certainly if not glass then some kind of earthly mineral. But when I came closer to the now enlarging brilliant ring , to my surprise I couldn't believe that what was winking at me from afar was an oddly shaped rock with two small tiny heart-shaped holes ; one above the other joined by an impressed line. These holes were imbued with rusty amber crystals. I closely examined the stone and couldn't believe that I had just found such a treasured stone.
Naturally I'm not one to be completely satisfied in finding just the one and so I looked to see if by chance there was more. And do you think, but yes there was more; way much more. In fact so much more that I couldn't carry all the little darling jewels with me. I had no bag, no sweater, not even a hat and so I put them at the bottom of my t-shirt rolled up a third to bring home as much as I possibly could. All the while I forgot to say that where this mother load had been, every step, every move created a crunch, crackle, pop. I thought I must be Captain Crunch. I’ve just found my treasure that’s been lost. What I had actually found was not the Captains treasure nor the morning bowl of cereal but a death pool of Jurassic-ammonites {prehistoric fossils-impressions of life} imbued in crystal amber, gold and white. These stones were scattered randomly beneath the rocks, under trees, and everywhere else in the clearing between the heavens and the earth. A zillion earthly stars entwined amongst the mossy covered ground. Surely, such a magical place like this must be the fays sweet home of reverie. To me, a treasure had been found and a passion had evolved. And now I cannot wait to go for our first SPRING hike and to find more of which has never been seen by the human eye before. You see to me these stones are antiquities of the highest form and best of all don’t even cost a penny. They never have been owned before so you can call them your very own. I searched and wondered what I could do with all these little stones and as you can see I’ve made a heart of stone. But bare with me, I’ll be back to show other things I’ve ingeniously made with all the little stones.There is but one that I call "MY PRECIOUS", and that is the one which started it all; the Two Heart Stone”. It wasn't the ring that I had thought was winking at me in that clearing in the wood; but a double heart to signify; one my branded love for nature and the other love just beginning to uncover for natures impressions found in these magical stones. And so, I had no choice but to call it "My Precious."

A Zillion Earthly Stars

Along a narrow winding road

I came upon a hollow grove

When to my eye did meet

A fantastical, magical, wondrous load

It shimmered and gleamed

And in between the moss did grow

For in an instance I did think

I’d seen a zillion stars ablaze

The sun shined brightly through the trees

Its friend the breeze accompanied

and together played amongst the leaves

Casting shadows on the scared ground beneath

Fragmented light bounced to and fro sporadically

Upon the zillion earthly stars I’d seen

And in their enlighten glow

They cast a stage of a beautiful twinkling fairy dream

Dragonflies and bees

Hovering in the breeze

With every flicker of their gossamer wings

they glittered and they gleamed

One by one they scattered until there were none

Oh, but wait

A little dragonfly had stopped

and landed on a stone

And at the little ones delight

I placed my hand to touch

to see how this could be

Could it all be, what I believed?

What I had thought

The dragonfly and stone

Were of reality

~Annabelle~

The Ghost Ball

I wrote this poem "Flora" sometime ago in May.I got the idea for the "The Ghost Ball" from it.The story continues on from "Flora". I hope you like it.To all A HAPPY HALLOWEEN =^..^= xo Annabelle



Flora

Moss covered trees; they lined the path to either side of me
With limbs outstretched, they touched and formed
An endless canopy in hues of velvet greens
This vacant road, so tenderly adored by these grand oaks
Led me in finding silence sleeping deeply in serenity

Look around; what do I see - flowers strewn and flowers dead
A sea of white on white, grey on grey and black to dark
Of body turned to stone, their words are now half spoken
Craved onto the surface of their sculptured ghostly effigies

Their shadows hide by day, by night they come
If it were night it wouldn’t feel right
But since its day I think its right
For I do see the peacefulness that’s here

Around a bend, some English daisies make my acquaintance
They rise in lively spirit from the dark depths of their grassy bed
This lonely cradle, long forgotten, has cared for them
And they in turn have called upon the sun onto its sunken crest
To warm and kiss its lovely breast

This stone is not alike the rest
It does not bear the name who lies in there
For what sits above the daisy covered knoll
Is but a open book with pages torn adorned in roses pink

To make of what it tells
Is hard when earth and wind and rain
Have washed away its mark, but still I try
For there was once a time
This place was truly theirs’

I bowed down to the earth and took a better look
I read and thought; is this, what’s left?
I could have sworn the words began to speak in whispers on the breeze
I may have thought or did I hear it say “I was”?

I looked away from the book made out of stone
And saw a vision sitting there- afar- with flowers in her hands
I knew the voice I’d heard had come from her
A long time past, she walked the earth
And loved the flowers, that now grow above her tomb

The moss she had treasured so
Now softly dressed the written pages of the book
The years that read were few, her youth cut short
Above the blue faint sky I heard the dawn bird’s song
Ethereal swirls of melodic tones played a choral symphony

A moment passed, the child like girl I’d seen, had gone
The intense beauty of the woodland music now had ended
The bird’s keen senses knew, now dark took over light,
Its ghostly shadow for a moment brushed the mossy tomb
A silence fell and then I heard large rain drops fall unto the granite stone
And like a hidden message written in unseen ink -revealed –
I saw my name, on the wet stone visibly appear.



~ Annabelle ~



The inspiration for this poem came from a visit to a cemetery last summer during a soccer tournament.I had noticed two tomb stones in the shape of books and instantly fell in love with them. I didn't have my camera then so I'll have to take the trip back there to photograph the tombs then I will post them with this poem. My daughter Emma inspired me with the last paragraph of the poem when she pointed out to me how the dark had taken over the light over the entire field on a recent walk with our dog Grace.


The Ghost Ball


Walking along the undulating winding path, tall oaks stood on both sides of me. Their limbs touching but barren of their leaves made a dark brown lacey lattice against the cold October sky. The sun barely visible tried to peek through the blank canvas hardly keeping the earth warm. The air was still not a sound could be heard except for the shuffle of the oaks’ dead leafs underfoot and then the silence broke…. Overhead; a group of geese flew towards a warmer home.

Moments earlier I had visited my grandmother’s grave and had left her a posy of flowers for her birthday. Now in peaceful reflection I walked among the solid stones of marble and granite all bearing messages of love lost. I loved coming here. It was a sanctuary for me whenever I came. I could spend hours reading about the dearly departed and found inspiration in the decorative embellishments and inscribed messages of their tombs that told more than just their sad farewells.

A weeping willow on a grave; its branches covered in moss as if in full spring splendor silently shed the tears of loved ones left behind. A heart entwined in ivy; a testament of a strong and binding love. And then I saw a few small graves; one adorned with a little lamb and the other with an angel and puppy dog; they belonged to little children who had left this earth much too soon.

The day was cold and damp and I particularly wanted nothing more than to continue with the nostalgic memories but the cold became uncomforting and I was too cold and miserable to relinquish in this beautiful desolate place yet it was most appropriate for today was Hallows Eve. I hurried my pace still entranced by the scatterings of ghostly white tombs against the stark grey horizon. Suddenly the sun’s pale light touched upon the stone of an opened book, its pages torn; one last faded rose that had dropped from its branch that had hugged the tomb, now lay on the books’ leaf. Beneath the bush upon the torn page corner of the book; a glint of purple green twinkled through. I knelt down and touched the sparkle on the stone book revealing a violet purple amethyst covered in mossy greens. I grabbed the moisten jewel within my hand and quickly hurried back home.

The hearth felt good; my hands numb from the bitter cold and of the wet mossy jewel. I carefully laid the purple stone onto the mantle. It was round and rose shaped like you see in a church window. At a closer glance I noticed it had eight individual petals but they were scarcely noticeable from the moss that filled their voids. At each strut a rhinestone lay. It was truly a beautiful ornament from long, long ago; that it belonged to, would be a mystery.

With the entire hullabaloo that ensued I had completely forgotten that I had to create a witches hat for the ghost ball. Mom had kindly bought a witches hat ahead of time but I had dally too long to decorate it like I had wanted to and now I was in dire need to finish it on time. I gathered up the choice adornments and quickly adding the black spider brooch, the old rhinestone buckle, the large black velvet rose and the garland of small roses; their petals sprinkled with tear drops. Finally I added a touch of black tulle to create a filmy mysterious looking witches hat. There, I was done but something was not quite right. Yes, that’s what it was, a large gapping hole inside the buckle stared right back at me. I needed something for the buckle to frame.

Out of the blue the purple stone flashed a wink across the room. It would be perfect to adorn the witches’ hat with and especially beautiful inside the old rhinestone frame. I clumsily and eagerly tried pinning the flowered stone onto the hat. So stirred in seeing the end results that I pinned myself like I had become a pin cushion. After all the fuss was over, the hat was finally complete. A witch’s gothic hat dream had come true. I loved the look. I was all set for the ball.

Time was flying swiftly and so would this witch if she was to attend the Halloween Ball. I gathered all my costume attire, the cat, cape, boots, broom and bat and got dressed. I was the picture perfect gothic witch right out of the eighteen century. All that was left to do was to crown the costume with the witches’ hat that I had so proudly made. I entered the room which now had a glowing fire burning. The hat, has I had left it was still perched on the candelabra.

Approaching closer to the hearth, the purple stone of the jewel had fused together with the flames of the fire. Now the two were one and a dazzling sparkle danced across the room bouncing fragments of colorful purples and embers onto the crystal vases and glass of the room. The room spinned into a magical realm of a strange and different world distant and unknown to me; and then my eye caught something very strange indeed. Inside the fire in the embers of the flames a book lay open with pages written in old English. As I began to read the words penned in black ink a familiar music erringly faded in. I remembered the piece; it was “The Dance of the Mist”.

Upon the pages of the book was written “I hope to meet with thee again on Hallows Eve one time so I may alight in the “Ghostly Ball”. If you wear the hat and stone upon your head, I will be your companion for just this Hallows Eve and will return once a year upon the same night unless you desire to not make my company.”
Was it all just a dream; too tried and had probably fallen asleep? Wake up, wake up Leathor ; this can’t be real……only it was!
I had no fear but was only both intrigued and in disbelief of the whole affair that just had transpired. I wanted to believe!!!! So I put the witches’ hat upon my head…….

Beyond my glasses stood a young girl with fairies wings. I agitatedly took my glasses off and wiped the film from the lenses. I place them back unto the bridge of my nose and glanced towards where the young girl had stood. There she was, standing quietly and studying me; I now clearly saw she was only just a little girl of no more than twelve years old dressed in the most beautiful translucent gossamer and chiffon, yellow white gown. Her head crowned in daisies. Her whole attire in a sprinkling of fairy’s’ dust and her wings twinkled repeatedly with every flutter.

“Will thou be my friend to accompany to the Ghostly Ball?” My name is Flora and I know who you are she said in a faintly voice. You’re Leathor; I’ve watched you visiting at the Mount. The purple stone belongs to me and I have wished for centuries for someone to find it and pin it on a witch’s hat so that I may have another Ghostly Ball on Hallows Eve with all my dear and darling friends. Please say you’ll come.”

And so the little witch that wished to be a fairy for an eve and I, a witch who truly could make magic with her hat went off to the Ghostly Ball. Who was I to deny such a sweet little girl a Ghostly Ball on Hallows Eve with all her ghoulish, witches and fairy friends? I be a fool to decline the invitation; you’d never know what would come of it if you did.
I never ended up going to the Halloween Ball, in reality Flora and I danced the dance of the mist surrounded by Floras’ dearly departed friends at the Ghostly Ball on this very special Hallows Eve.


Happy Halloween=^..^=

A Time To Win

To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill and a time to heal ...
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to lose and a time to seek;
a time to rend and a time to sew;
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8


Today was my son and husbands’ moment in Soccer aside from winning the gold cup last year.
As usual, I missed another one of those desirable church sales being held in Merrickville, but definitely today I had to be present for my son's game. He and his dad had defied the doctor's orders to absolutely not play any soccer of any kind or for that matter any sport at all!

Of course this never works on my husband and like father, my son followed my husband this morning saying {that after a little over 32 hours since he started his medication for Shingles} he was feeling much better and wanted to try and play.
They were playing against the Mustangs and this year they have quiet a good team considering that they didn’t even personally pick the team.
Today was not “a time to lose” but “a time to seek” a win over the never beaten Mustangs.

Tyler played the full game; while I worried that he might just get ill. They played fabulous till half time keeping the Mustangs from scoring. But the opposing team wasn’t use to the shut down on their scoring. By now they should have had an easy six goals. They finally found a break in our team’s defense and scored their only goal.

The second half began and the boys played not as enthusiastically as before when without warning the kid with the strong Brit accent {Nick}; scored. The team went in frenzy, hugging and patting each other on the back and so did the parents in the stands. That’s all they had needed for the momentum to spiral to higher expectations; they now wanted to win. The team had gelled; now to get that winning goal.

Years of coaching my son and having a keen sense of timing my husband found an opportune time in the ending minutes to switch Rocky with Tyler; totally unexpected by us or the opposing coach. Tyler only moments on the court seized the ball and scored making it a 2/1 lead. The boys jumped for joy, once again in an eruption of happy emotions and knew that in the next following minutes if successful in keeping the Mustangs from scoring they would win this game. The enthusiasm was so revved up that the boys subbed too soon, ending with one of our players getting a yellow card. It didn’t matter, the whistle blew; they had won.

Yes, it was only a young boy’s soccer league game but to them it was a moment of sweet victory over a hard undefeated team. From this moment on they had become a team; “The Celtics”. Overjoyed with their winning game, my son and his dad bragged about what a great coaching move his dad had made, probably his best yet and how Tyler had scored the winning goal.

The cell went off and I answered the call. It was my daughter. “Mom, Sally Ann called and said that you won the auction for the soccer window box frame”. I had completely forgotten that two weeks ago I had bid $27 dollars for a beautiful soccer window box; starting bid $25. It had a football, soccer history written on old newsprints, a cleat and cup. I thought how lovely it would be if I got it for the family or for Ty and put all of their past soccer history mementos in the case. I looked at the auction date; it was for the 27th of October~ Emma’s birthday. Being a little superstitious I thought why not and put the bid of $27 dollars.

When I went to pick the frame up the price had dropped to $25 dollars. No other bid had been made.
I had found my treasures for the day in watching my kid play… scoring the winning goal and feeling much better, my husband gloating in his expert coaching abilities and I winning the soccer window box frame to add one more memory of a father and son’s soccer game victory. Today was a beautiful day even in its dark, cold and rainy attire.

Annabelle

There’s No Place like Home

There’s No Place like Home


Here in our sanctuary and warmth of our home the family sits in front of the crackling fire and enjoys each others company. The night is not particularly cold but the advents of last evening presented a chill in our bones. The warmness and affection of love generated in our home is like no other. To me there is no other place on earth like home. Home is where they love you, where there is no need for acceptance; you’re already a part of a loving component ~ a family.

I personally like to get out on drives and go vintage hunting but then this terrible urge to get back home consumes me and no other thought becomes more significant than reaching my dearest destination. My fulfillment of grasping a part of the past has passed me and I’m contented with the collection of the day. I suppose a part of the reasoning for the rush to get back is the altering feeling of discovering and excitement of the unveiling of treasures to a feeling of complete anxiety in displaying the gathered objects in the house creating a cozy home. But that is not all that it takes in cultivating a home. There has to be love and a family. And we are fortunate to have the most precious thing on earth ~ each others love.

Grace had a wonderful time the other day as I had taken her with me to a park trail by the river. She had enjoyed the walk and exhausted from the long trek decided to take it into her own paws that she would cool her self off by going for a swim. Unaware of her private decision, I had lost site of her for a moment while gathering pine branches. I searched for her when I heard a dog’s bark coming from the bottom of the embankment on the opposite side of the river. I called out her name when out of the clump of burr bushes by the water’s edge, she peeked. I was relieved that she had not gone far into the river fearing she could have drowned, but she was quite alright!

Climbing back the embankment with a happy smile on her face I was beginning to think that this was not an undertaking I should have taken at this stage in my life. I hoped I didn’t have to pursue her to the river’s edge but fortunately she made it up on her own and the bonus… not a smear of mud on her coat but a few burrs. I came out of this quite lucky; we both came out of this lucky.

So today was without exception that Grace longed to have that same feeling of complete free and utter liberation and having no collar or leash in restraining her from venturing into the woods discovering. But it was not to be for I was content in staying indoors. It was the first day that actually felt like winter. A quick and brisk walk around the yard was sufficient for the two of us and we quickly retracted indoors. Sitting at my desk I looked out the window at the golden foliage of the white birch; now weeping from the heavy down pour of the day’s icy rain. Winter I feared had finally arrived.

The approaching night was getting colder and wetter; driving was hazardous but drivers seemed unaware of the unpredictable slippery road ahead and didn’t bother to slow down.
Not surprisingly a three car pile up met us at the intersection.
Another soccer night and this time my husband joined us. I was comfortable and content with my husband doing the driving tonight.

The United Church in Merrickville was having a sale this evening and Saturday morning and I was a little disappointed that I would be missing both time slots; but there never really was a choice. A million times over I pick my son’s practices and games over the church sales. There would always be church sales but these moments shared with my son and my husband would never return. Soon he would become a young man with a wife and have children of his own. Yes, the right decision was made.

A succession of lights without pause lit the wet road ahead, cars still speeding, still following much too close; drivers still ignorant to the perilous conditions. Without warning a black lab wearing a bright red collar jolted out erratically into the blinding lights. He was prancing back and froth onto the road and shoulder in a confused state of mind. He didn’t look scared and seemed very young and inexperienced. The rain now poured and the poor animal had no sense of direction. Only rude, uncaring drivers kept their speed and continued on their route. The helpless little guy looked as if he was trying to find someone or spot some familiar landmark all the while having a friendly smile on his face. I refer to the dog as he because he just looked like a young male puppy; I’ll never know.

In the moments that followed that comprised fractions of seconds we decided to turn back and find the little guy to give him a lift home. Coming around the bend of the road, there was no site of the black lab, the fields’ barren of any visible life. And then…. on the opposite side of the highway something visibly black covered a patch of the rough gravel of the road’s shoulder. Approaching closer, red emerged out of the black darkness materializing into a collar. The broken outline of a lifeless dog broke into view. This was ~ the black lab we had seen wearing a red collar that seconds ago had frantically searched for its owner. We were too late. There was complete silence in our company. We were shocked and devastated. A life swiftly snuffed in a split second; so suddenly unexpected.

My son looked to see if the dog was still alive. The dog was still and the silence was broken, “I wish you never told us to go back I knew this would come of it” Ty remarked. It was just an irrational comment from a young boy that obviously was very hurt. Beyond the lifeless body of the black lab about 500 feet away, a weather-beaten old man in a grey raincoat with an aged shaggy golden by his side, stood at the opening of a trail. Standing statue like, starring towards the direction of the dog. He didn’t move as we slowly drove off; the ending vision implanted in my mind.

How could anyone leave so quickly from the deadly scene? How heartless. An accident it was but didn’t the creature deserve the dignity of being placed off the cold hard rock of his end and gently laid on the green grass that grew beside? We too were to blame for we could have moved him onto the green plot; no excuses. Was the old fellow his owner that had stood motionless in a gaunt and mournful look, shocked by how time had fled him of his opportunity to save his pet? The night that we had looked forward to had now left us with the reflection of how life is fragile. We watched the practice with a conscience of much gratitude and sorrow for a creature’s life lost.

Driving home, the rain had stopped and the traffic had trickled to a few cars lighting the dark highway sporadically. The tone in the car was happy yet you knew that everyone’s mind was still thinking that soon the spot where the dog lay would soon appear. Coming around the bend of the road where we first discovered him dead my son spoke up and said, “Dad put on your high beams. Do you think he’s there still?” “I can’t forget his eyes; how they looked”. I knew now why he had been so upset at discovering the dead dog; the impact was more intensified by the visual look of death.
If the dog was still there, then the old fellow was not its owner, but if the little pup was gone; most probably he was its owner. In any case here was our chance to do right and move the little guy off the side of the road till morning until someone could pick him up.

The beams shined on the spot where the dog had laid;he was gone.
Tonight inside a house there would be crying and pain. Someone had lost their dear devoted pet, maybe would have feelings of guilt for losing them on the trial or calling them back from the road; a soreness that would sting some time to come.
In another house there would be sorrow at a failed attempt in saving a dog’s life but having great appreciation and gratitude for having each other in the warmth of the blazing fire and room which they call their home.

Annabelle

A Poem for God's Little Creature












Painting by Jim Warren





The Rainbow Bridge

There is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth. It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors. Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass.
When a beloved pet dies, they go to this place, there is always food and water and warm spring weather. Those old and frail animals are young again. Those who have been maimed are made whole again. They play all day with each other.
But there is only one thing missing. They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth. So, each day they run and play until the day comes when one suddenly stops playing and looks up! The nose twitches, the ears are up, the eyes are staring! And this one suddenly runs from the group!
You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet, you take them in your arms and embrace. Your face is kissed again and again and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet.
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated!


Until we meet again…


Poem by Paul C. Dahm

Old Love

My Italian grandparents who met when Nona was only sixteen years old and nono was twenty-four. He was looking out his window when he spotted her with a long flowing braid looking out from the building across the piazza to his. He told his dad that was the girl he was going to marry. Eight kids after and a long life of total love and devotion my nono died and my grandmother followed him eight years later.....true love!



"OLD LOVE"....For my one true love


When first we met, young at heart, body and soul, all my waking hours I spent thinking and longing for you.My nights …dreaming of you…drugged by love!!! No one else and nothing mattered;but only you!
My heart raced wildly, obsessively thinking and craving your touch,your embrace, your love.You sufficed my hunger for loves passion to exhaustion only for me to reciprocate to you my affections.Exhausted in love,sick in love and I’d die for love if I couldn’t have you.But this unreeling untamed love and passion I possessed would not last forever and neither would yours;it was the uniqueness of our original love.

Together now we have arrived to the center of our world.
Still madly in love…yes!
My affections more embodied then ever before….I still love you and you me; only now the thumping of my heart has faded a little…my anxiety has vanished,my dreams are filled with life’s realities and guiding angels and yes I still dream of you my darling.
My passion …; Still strong though I’m learning to have much patience.Longing has become part of the makeup of our present relationship.
Now we embark onto a new path … were it will leads us I don’t know,I only know I’ve known but only one true undying love and I wish that either you or I one day will say:

"Love of mine some day you will die
But I’ll be close behind
I’ll follow you into the dark”

Annabelle



"I Will Follow You Into The Dark"

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms

If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

Death Cab for Cutie

Magic Moments

In the distance I could hear my daughter and husband's laughter, a song filtered from the room, "This magic moment, so different and so new". Yes, but of course, it was one of the soundtracks from the movie "The Sandlot". I knew then exactly at what scene they were at.....Squints faking a drowning just so he could sneak that longed after kiss away from the desirous lifeguard. It’s a film that the whole family has enjoyed for the past thirteen years.

We never seem to tire of viewing great movies over and over again and actually being able to tell what someone is watching and at what point of the movie they’re at without being in the same room. That’s because of the multitude of times we have watched the same movies and their power at having lodged memory chips in our subconscious that creates a surge of emotional happiness within us when we recall the specific scene; “The Sandlot” was such a movie to have left a happiness chip behind.

The boys from the sandlot were enjoying “the summer of their dreams and fearing the dog of their nightmares” while my darlings were enjoying a moment of happiness being together on a quite drizzling Sunday morning that soon would conclude, for dad would be taking leave back to the bomb as they call it, in the early afternoon.

After receiving an email from Nature girl early this morning, I reflected on what she had said; “Time allows us to make memories and I am realizing that memories are all we have for nothing stays the same”. In thinking back to a post I had recently written “Time waits for no one” I know how much I value my time but yes there is a truth to what you say Nature girl; “ time allows us to make memories”.

Movies can have so much impact on ones life. Nature girl made me think hard this morning and how she is dealing with the harshness of her mom’s illness.
How sad… then, it must be for someone to deal with the terrible fact that they are slowly loosing their memory and won’t be able to remember anything or anyone from their past. The bits and pieces of their lives they so cherished, gathered and treasured will now, like the tiny granules of sand slipping thru the fingers, will ultimately vanish as time goes by.

I absolutely loved the movie “The Notebook”. I was immediately captivated with the movie so much so for the very reason it encompassed the power of love and how it over came barriers. The mosaic of ones soul {Allison} now lost and lonely in a home, only to be re-found in reading Allison’s journal to her by her beau Noah. The journal journeys thru the turbulent and passionate love story that Allison and Noah shared, piecing together the pieces of her memory and plucks at her heartstrings resurfacing her lost memories of their enduring love.
It certainly left me with a happiness chip to remember that if I ever might encounter such fate, my dear can read to me my journal and I will recall my life or part of it.

So time allowed us to make some minute but significant memories this past weekend. Time well spent sharing magic moments that will never come again for each is uniquely different and very special in its own way.

The sun peeked thru the clouds and warmed the autumn afternoon. Only the sound of the computer keys made their way to the kitchen and dad was saying his good byes with Em. Kiss good bye Annabelle….bye Stan ….Oh wait dad, are you going now? Yes, why? I think he wants a kiss too, Stan. Oh no, that’s only for cowboys! Hehehe….its just a joke we have with Ty.

Annabelle