he sat alone, reading his book

he sat alone, at a lunchroom table, reading a book. it was some quasi-intellectual title that i have long since forgotten. the man worked in a manufacturing facility, i do not know what his actual job was, but i figured it was not a complicated job.  maybe his job was more complicated, now that i think about it.  but he appeared to be enjoying the book. he was quite absorbed in the reading, and no one bothered him at all.

it was my observation that many of the workers there were not very bright. i interacted with a great number of them in my duties. (i was there with the hearing testing company - OSHA mandated hearing testing in industry.)  i knew that my company went to this particular manufacturing facility annually to test the plant employees hearing.  i know that many were not very bright, because they could not remember ever having their hearing tested there before - yet many of them marked on their hearing questionnaire that they had worked there for several years. Looking at the questionnaires that they filled out I found myself wondering about their intelligence. (How did these people find their way to and from the job every day, because evidence showed that they could not possibly have complicated jobs. likely to be replaced by robots any day now....)

I still think about the man reading the quasi-intellectual book....  what a sly fox he was... have a simple job for most of your life.  A job that doesn't involve ALL of your intellect, and in your space time EXPAND your knowledge by reading all the time. i bet he made a pretty good living, lived cheaply at home, had few debts, and a library card. i bet he put money into savings every week, and had a sizeable retirement fund. i envy that man.

....

...

..

.

the rocker

it was her chair 

the rocker

she chose it

sat in only by her

rocker recliner

velvet like fabric

when she struggled

to rise from her rocker

i added to the height

she is gone now

I sit in her rocker

daily

the rocking comforting

returning

I had not realized that it had been so long since I shared here.

I don't have anything tonight. I will be back soon though.

meanwhile:  

....

...

..

.

i mourn for her

 

the wise one asked me:  do you still cry about your past?  

i replied:  i do. i mourn for the little girl who was an imposition, only always in the way...  i cry for her. i hurt for her.

i came to my parents later in their lives.  mother was older than most birth mothers of that era. father was too old, had been through too much.

others were taken aback. it was not a question of keeping a foetus, that was simply not a question that was asked in that era. it was more of do whatever you need to for that baby to be born.

lip service said you are wanted. actions not so much. reflecting back on the childhood. 

everything little thing was responded to as a "what now" 

i remember a lot of concern over discolored skin when they didn't see that it was caused by a brass chain worn as a necklace.  i remember waking up all alone in a hospital room when i was a four-year old...not knowing how i got there, but it was too much of an imposition for my mother to stay with me so that i would not wake alone and afraid.

the only thing i ever got was an admission, by her, that child abuse need not be physical... need not be loud and obnoxious.  

i mourn for the little girl who was an imposition, only always in the way...  i cry for her. i hurt for her.

nothing

 the world is such a mess right now

i don't have much to say

so alone, so lonesome for someone to talk to

i don't know what to write

my muse is gone

autumnal melancholia 

Monopoly for Christmas

When was 8 years old I asked for Monopoly for Christmas.  My mother had misgivings.  She thought I was too young to play the game.  I am not certain whether she knew that I had played Monopoly before.

We had Christmas at my Aunt Mae's house.  I brought the game with me.  I remember my Mom and her sister exchanging looks... they did not think that I was up to it... as I took the board out of the box and set it up...clearly I knew what I was doing. 

We played Monopoly.  They did not doubt me after that.

this is one of many nice memories of my Aunt Mamie, who was a kind woman.

....

...

..

.

the end of July

The only thing I love about this time of year is that the chicory is in bloom. Beautiful periwinkle blue, delicate flowers, on sturdy stems line the roadside... 

And their partner Queen Anne's Lace, waves in the breeze; taller than the chicory. 

And the elderberry bushes are on the cusp of harvest-ability.

....

...

..

.