07.21.08
Update On My Brother’s Massive Stroke
05.30.08
Emily Dickinson – God Gave A Loaf
Wednesday the doctors got the MRI report back on my brother’s stroke and said there was no hope…he’d never recover and as soon as he was strong enough he’d be moved to a nursing home. Yesterday God gave us a small miracle. My brother is on many prayer lists and those prayers have been answered. He began to respond and now the doctors have changed their opinion. As soon as he is stronger he will be sent to a rehab center. A small step–but a step towards hope when at first there was none. In celebration here is another Emily Dickinson favorite of mine and appropriate for how I feel at the moment.
God gave a loaf to every bird,
But just a crumb to me;
I dare not eat it, though I starve,–
My poignant luxury
To own it, touch it, prove the feat
That made the pellet mine,–
Too happy in my sparrow chance
For ampler coveting.
It might be famine all around,
I could not miss an ear,
Such plenty smiles upon my board,
My garner shows so fair.
I wonder how the rich may feel,–
An Indiaman–an Earl?
I deem that I with but a crumb
Am sovereign of them all.
Elizabeth
05.26.08
My Brother – Massive Stroke
My brother had a massive stroke and is unresponsive. The doctors say they won’t be able to tell us anything until the MRI results come back, but the next forty-eight hours are the critical. I will be absent from my blog for a while. For those who have been reading, Thank you…I’ll be back as soon as possible. I have lost one brother already, so any prayers for my brother and our family are greatly appreciated. Elizabeth
05.11.08
Mom – Lady With A Wild Side?
Dad was an avid gardener and roses were his specialty. Every spring he’d order new exotic specimens, put them in the ground and tend them like new-born babies. So it’s pretty clear where I got my love of gardening and my love of roses. Mom was a totally different creature when it came to gardening. She loved pink roses, but to my knowledge, never grew a single rose plant.
Mom’s old fashion perennials, sweet peas, wild flowers, weeds and grasses all grew together in wild abandon–like an over grown meadow in full bloom. This penchant for wild gardens showed me a side of Mom not easily discernable. A long buried yearning to be as free as the wild things she grew–a longing to throw off the restrictions of society and just be herself.
I was a pretty wild tomboy growing up and often wondered how Mom managed to put up with me. A lady who never left the house without changing her dress and putting on lipstick–who tried desperately to teach me to be a lady. A woman who never smoked, drank or uttered a curse word and yet, the two of us were close–having a special bond. Although she tried valiantly to teach me proper behavior, I believe she took great pleasure in the fact that I was more like her free flowing wild garden than Dad’s well tended specimens.
When you pull into my drive and step up to the side door leading into my kitchen, there’s a Bleeding Heart bush growing along the foundation, just as there always was at Mom’s. In that same bed you will find hostas, wild daisies I dug up from along a country lane, strawberries, and numerous other plants, both wild and cultivated varieties–all growing in a disorganized, yet somehow, beautiful mess. If Mom were still here, she’d look at that flower garden and say, “That’s my girl.”
Happy Mother’s day to all the mother’s out there and may your gardens and your lives bloom with beautiful abundance.
Elizabeth Melton Parsons
05.07.08
Black Birds In The House
As I sat here this morning reading my emails, I heard the unmistakable racket of a bird falling down the chimney and trying frantically to find a way out. Since I have a fireplace insert, there was no way he was going to make his way to freedom without assistance.
When my son got up for school, I closed the door leading into the hallway, hoping to confine the bird to the living-dining room-kitchen areas of the house. After opening the front door, I had Eric stand between the door and the other room and try to get the bird to go out the front door. Well, you know what they say about the best of plans…” I opened the insert and nothing came out. I told my son the bird must have flown back up the chimney. I’d no sooner gotten the words out when a half grown Starling flew into the room, but he had no interest in seeking freedom via the open door–preferring instead to practice his new aviator skills in my living and dining rooms. Considering he hadn’t grown his long tail feathers yet, he could fly just fine.
Finally deciding to just catch the thing and put him out, we spent the next twenty minutes or so trying to catch him. He had no trouble evading us and even seemed to be enjoying the game. I was on my way to get a pillow case to throw over him when Eric announced another one had come from the fireplace. Now we had two of the little guys flying around. Wanting to kick myself for being an idiot, I rushed over and closed the draft and the insert door before the house turned into an aviary.
The birds continued to ignore the open door, perhaps because it’s an arched opening inset into a small entryway and this confused them. They finally made their way into the kitchen and I opened the door in there. After some encouragement and much laughter from my son and I, one of them flew away to freedom. The other one seemed determined to stay with us forever. He made several tries at reentering the dining room, but I prevented these attempts by standing on a stepladder and flopping a dishcloth at him while my son giggled in the background. Okay, I know I looked foolish, but these antics eventually worked and I managed to shoo him out the open door. Now… if I can just remember to keep the draft in the fireplace closed when not in use and find a way to prevent black birds from building their homes on top of my chimney.
This early morning excitement was nothing compared to the middle of the night adventure I had when a large feral cat fell down the chimney.
Elizabeth Melton Parsons
05.06.08
Sensual – Steamy- Passionate
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I’ll see you at Sensual!
Elizabeth
04.30.08
Homer’s “Odyssey”
04.28.08
Rich Get Richer – Poor Get Poorer
We’ve all heard that expression, “The rich keep getting richer while the poor get poorer”. This is nothing new and has been around a lot longer than I have. The bad thing is that it’s becoming more and more true. Not only is the gulf between low and upper income Americans becoming wider, but also the gap between middle and upper income. I first noticed this alarming trend more than ten years ago and I have my own personal opinion on why the gap between poor/middle income and upper income workers in America is widening at an ever-increasing pace. But do the reasons even matter anymore?
I read an interesting article this morning on a couple of surveys that were done by two different groups who came to the conclusion, ‘the gap between poor/middle income and upper income is widening’. DUH! I and every other working American already know this. The solutions given by these groups to solve the problem are okay, but would be akin to plugging a hole in a dam with your finger, a mediocre and temporary fix at best.
The last get up, leave the house and work for a company type job I had was four years ago and recently I decided I’d check out the job market and perhaps take a part time position somewhere. I’m a full time writer, but there are times I miss the hustle and bustle of working away from home, not to mention, like many others, I could really use some extra cash. This little job search was quite an interesting experience. I laughed at a couple of people I spoke with and lost my temper with one.
The qualifications and duties they quoted were ludicrous for the salary they were willing to pay. Education, training and experience were required. Okay, I had that covered. What I had a hard time coming to terms with (even before knowing the salary) were the duties. I’d have been doing a job or jobs that should have been done by at least ten other employees as well as myself. Then, the highest wage I was offered was two dollars less an hour than I made at my last job. Also at my last position, I was paid a good mileage rate. When I was told by one of these companies my mileage would be ten cents a mile, I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I told the person that with the rising cost of fuel, I wouldn’t open my garage door for ten cents a mile, much less start my car.
I plan to continue my job search, but now more as a research project than an actual attempt at finding employment. I can still afford to turn these offers down, but every time I fill up at the gas station or buy a bag of groceries, I wonder how long it will be before I have to crawl back to these companies and beg for that job I refused. The plight of middle income America facing recession is hard and going to get harder, but what about the low-income workers? The working poor–what a horrible expression. In a country like the USA, there should be no such thing as working poor. It’s a disgrace and a shame on all of us. Low and middle-income workers are the backbone of this country. When they can no longer afford to get in their car and go to work, how long will all the high income executives and professionals out there going to be able to keep this country a float?
Elizabeth Melton Parsons
