Oddments

In search of story


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Connections: October 18.17

I call this Still Life With Mess.

Not that life ever stands still, though at times it seems to. But there is ever a mess. That is, unless we’re sitting around on our…umm…hands.

These three artifacts just happened to end up together as the movers plied their art, and of course I couldn’t help noticing the serendipity. The wonderful pine cone and seed wreath was made years ago by my dear friend Donna, and is one of my favorite things. The assembly-line autumn wreath has been fabulous on my front door here, if I do say so. The decrepit, ancient suitcase was my Aunt Edna’s and holds her academic cap and hood (the heavy velvet and gold of Ph.D.). To the left, the back of a print procured for me at a condo swap by my son and daughter-in-law because my son knew it was my favorite Ansel Adams.

What a mishmash life is.

Today I will leave this place that has been Grandma’s House for seven years. There is some melancholy. But another, smaller Grandma’s House awaits, and both grandchildren have given it a thumbs-up (as have I). So bear with me, dear reader, as I launch myself (albeit, it must be said, a trifle arthritically) into whatever comes next.

 

 

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Connections: October 13.17

Economy of words

is not my strongest suit

I’m Irish, blather-minded,

an English major to boot.

But occasionally I’ll do it

say it all in just one word

here’s syllable to prove it

in a box of the absurd.

Packing up my years

forces me to see

in wording and in living

downsizing is the key.

 

 

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Connections: October 8.17

“It’s where you put your eyes”

so went the lesson lyrical

teaching point of view

based on the empirical.

The children’s song holds true

as we try to be reflective

about our portioned turmoil

and strive for sane perspective.

 

 

More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.

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Connections: October 4.17

Upheaval and chaos

visual din

hazard to elbow

ankle and shin

finally sold

my house inside-out

I’m up to my ears

what am I about?

am I stressed, twitterpated

sleepless? You bet.

Do I know where I’m going?

No! Not yet!

But life has its moments

of precariousness

we just have to hold on

and slog through the mess.

 

 

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