SO TIMELY

SO TIMELY
The peonies in full bloom reach out of their bed, bending toward the earth, green and grassy all around.
Before the rain, they stood upright and proud.
Something in the air, the gray of the sky, the lightest of raindrops, brings them down.
I wonder why we, here, loose our peonies in such a way.
More formal folk tend and support their blooms.

Is there laziness in our souls?
Or are there deep memories of sprawling peony beds?
I remember peonies laid tenderly on grasses green and on humps of bare earth,
Bushes at iron gates, bushes at brick pillars, bushes at slender wooden posts,
Green foliage reaching high, heavy flowers bowing.
Drums and bugles sound in the distance, then advance in slow parade to and beyond the gates.
In the silence that follows, words are spoken, heads are bowed.
Rifle shots pierce the silence and echo in the hills and a single bugle sounds a call to rest.














My peonies are bending to the earth with the fullness of the life they can hold.
Soon, they will wither and cast petals.
When petals have showered the earth, the stems will reach skyward again,
Now promises of the future hidden among the showy branches of this short summer.

My peonies are bending to earth,
dotting the greens above and below with color.
Aren't they perfect for Memorial Day?

Begin at the beginning

We love you momma.
But if you won't write it, we will.

Life with neighbors

Date: Mon, 20 Feb 2006 23:48:49 -0600
Subject: Life with neighbors


Yesterday [Sunday] was exciting. I was trying to write a letter when my head began to develop an ache because of the loud motor at the front of the house. I had gotten up to see what it could be and why it remained when Mika streaked down the hall and skidding to a stop at the front door, sounded an alarm. Blocking my driveway were 2 massive fire trucks. I watched until one moved on and, then, I went across the street to speak to Shannon. She, it transpired, was the reason they were here. One of the boys had dropped a lighter onto a bed. [Sounded fishy to me.] Nathan, who happened to be there, had the presence of mind to carry the mattress out while Shannon and the boys poured any handy liquid onto the remaining flames. [I'd never considered lemonade as a fire retardant.] We chatted for a while and I came home to take care of dog business and got sidetracked from my letter.

When I'd fed the dogs and was tucking into my own supper, Brandon came to my door to ask if I had baking soda. They were making peanut butter cookies at their house. I told him I'd see. Sometimes, the only baking soda I have is in the refrigerator. When he told me he needed a cup of baking soda, I sent him back home to reread the recipe. "You never need more than a teaspoon or two of baking soda," I told him. "Have your mother call me." I'm glad I told him that. Her question was, "Do I have to have flour to make Peanut Butter Cookies?" She, also, wanted to know if I had a recipe. The one she had was really for Chocolate Chip Cookies. Then Brandon was back. He'd misread the recipe, he told me. I'd found the baking soda and was putting some into a small yogurt container. I handed it to him and turned to my cookbooks. I scanned a few until I found a recipe for him. With cautions, I turned over the book. Most of my best cookie recipes are in the old and fragile books filled with "markers" of various sorts.

It wasn't long until Shannon called to ask if I had flour. Before I could hang up, Brandon was at the door. I dug out my cannister and handed it over. "I'll bring you a cookie -- uh some cookies," he said. Later, he returned with a big plate of cookies atop my cannister and cookbook. I insisted that he keep the baking soda and label it with a marker so he knows what he has. I sampled and called to tell Shannon she'd done well and to thank her. She insisted it was no gift compared to the 6 cups of flour I'd given her. I don't remember why I went over later but she wrapped another couple of cookies before I left. Well, it's such a long walk. Hmm. Now, that I think of it, I might have needed a bottle of water, too.

Life with my neighbors is seriously entertaining.