Thursday, November 27, 2014

Loved ones and Home...

Over time since sailor kid has been in the Navy, we've missed having holidays with him in his childhood home. There have been a few calls on Thanksgiving and Christmas from halfway around the world but now at least Dan is stateside so I can at least imagine him in his home with Kimberly and Carson. This story kind of give you an idea of how I've felt about that.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

I'll begin by giving you a little history about my homes. First there's my old hometown, where I kissed boys, wrote poetry and hung out with girls who promised our friendships would last for eternity.

Then there's our summer home, the cabin in the forest visited by the multi-generations of our family who have had many heartfelt times living and laughing there for decades.

And of course there's my house in the burbs' that I get to share with hubby who every so often even after 30+ years still makes my heart pitter patter.

But when I really learned home is where the heart is was when I watched my only child graduate from boot camp and then be assigned to a base on the other side of the country.

There's a quote I heard once that goes something like this; "When you have a child it's like your heart has left your body and is out walking around in the world."

That means my home is on the USS Harry S. Truman, a huge aircraft carrier that I've never seen except in photos. I say this because my heart, Petty Officer Mechling is on deployment for the next 9 months thousand of miles away in an exotic place called The Arabian Sea.

Yes home is where the heart is and for now that's wherever sailor son might be.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Birthday post, finally!

Yeah I know you've all been waiting for it, the birthday post! I woke up today and had a pain in my hip, a pain in my tailbone and a pain in my knee. What the hell I wondered. Oh that's right, today I turn 58. Need to start that yoga class again. I got lots of happy birthday's on fb, thanks from me to all of you. It was a very nice day with the icing on the cake so to speak being a vm from my sweet 4 year old grandson who lives 3000 miles away.

So now seriously, I want to let you know that I'm dedicating this post to 3 wonderful women who won't be having any more birthdays, I kind of thought we would all grow old together. All passing in the last year, taken from this earth too soon. I raise my glass in toasting Karen, Linda and Stephanie, here's my poem.

Talk Show Crone

I hope I will soon
Be an old lady
I’ll move to Manhattan
Or some other island
I’ll open a shop
Call it bell, book and candle
I’ll wear antique jewelry
And hats found at goodwill
I’ll cut pretty roses
From other folk’s gardens
I’ll keep writing poetry
And read for the talk shows
I’ll be all the rage
For invites to parties
Oh yes me, a 21st century
Muse for the masses

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Gift request

Hey do you think I'll get a trip to Spain for my birthday tomorrow? Yeah that's what I thought too. HAHA! Well doesn't hurt to ask.

I'M STILL WAITING FOR...

I'm still waiting for my trip to Spain. I know I will go there someday. My job making shakes and fries at McDonalds during my senior year of high of high school put about $300 in my bank account, not enough to go to Europe with the Spanish teacher's tour group.

I still vowed to leave California after graduation, getting as far as that money could get me. Three weeks in Chicago as nanny for two little girls was better than nothing. I got to tour the amazing Museum of Modern Art, awed by paintings by famous Spanish artist Pablo Picasso, did that count?

So I have continued into adulthood pining away for Spain and now I had added Gibraltar and Morocco to my fantasy itinerary. In my dreams I see the travels of Don Quixote and his entourage mixed with the walking pilgrimage Shirley McClain made on the El Camino.

I envision the Pyreness off in the distance as I stand on the veranda of a beautiful casita that will be my temporary home where I'm picked up by a handsome Spanish driver who will make me swoon with his accent as we tour the amazing countryside.

Only 40 birthdays have passed since I first knew I was destined for Barcelona, I'm still waiting...

Sunday, November 23, 2014

A friend's November birthday

I have a high school friend who's birthday is tomorrow and since I'm always late sending cards I'll post a story from those old days when we were inseparable and pretty much always skirting trouble.

Rocky Racoon

"Rocky Racoon checked into his room, only to find Gideon's bible..."

About a block from the park we heard singing. The day was balmy and clear, in the midst of Indian Summer. Lisa and I had cut school to attend a local peace rally and were giddy after a contact high from the pot smoking crowd.

Sitting on the rock wall that surrounded the park we saw a long haired young man playing his guitar. His name was Dan, he said he had come up from San Francisco checking out communes in the country that he was considering re-locating to. Lisa and I wondered if he might be a draft dodger. Lisa grinned at me and asked him if we could hang out, we both had a thing for musicians.

For the next week we kept cutting class to spend time with our guitar man at the park. We would kick back on the grass while Dan serenaded us. I had the feeling that he knew we were just a couple kids from the high school, jail bait. He would bring Boones Farm strawberry wine which we would pass around and just watch the sky roll by.

Dan didn't talk much. He mainly just played songs we would request of him. He showed us how to play a few chords which was pretty hard on his 12 string guitar. But it got him to sit close to me which was the ultimate goal. In my teenage mind I actually thought he might get around to choosing one of us to have for his girl.

One day trying to leave campus we got busted by the dean of girls. A few weeks later when we couldn't stand the thought of not seeing Dan we ditched again. We ran all the way, arriving out of breath. The leaves were beginning to fall and the only sound we heard were birds chirping. There was no sign of the park troubadour.

As time passed Lisa and I sang that Beatles song and assumed that Dan, sort of like the lyrics had checked out. At least from our lives. "...Gideon checked out and he left it no doubt, to help with good Rocky's revival."

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Rainy Day Post

This rainy day makes me remember a few times when we would go to our family cabin in the redwood forest of Mendocino County and it would have rained there just prior to us arriving. Hubby and I always find our way there when we need to recharge from life in the burbs'.

Mile Marker 8 Irmulco Road

From the cabin I walk down to the creekbed looking for something colorful to press between two pages. Glancing about, I see shades of green. The wild rosehips and the red leaves of early poison oak are the only contrast and neither would make a good decoration on an handmade greeting card.

The smells of the short rainstorm a few days previous have dissipated but as I step into the shallow water, I deeply breathe in the dampness. Overhead I hear the blades of the CAMP helicopter searching out the local pot gardens. With the wind in the right direction you can sometimes get a whiff of that tell-tale aroma.

Noticing the shadows becoming longer, I think to myself that after a perfect vacation day doing almost nothing, it must be naptime. I can tell by the sun that it's mid-afternoon. That comfy couch inside will be my siesta place until supper time. Heading towards the deck I hear the soft snoring of my spouse.

As darkness falls, I tune in the only rock station on the radio that permeates the coastal range into our canyon. We settle in to read under the light of propane lamps, sometimes great literature from the bookshelf, sometimes the junk newspapers that seem to be a tradition since the time of Grandma Susie. "Listen to this, midget baby space alien found wandering the Sonoran Desert".

Our little foray out of suburbia that is meant to replenish and refresh us won't last long enough. Yet being here 24 hours I can feel the symptoms of the humdrum and routine of daily life sloughing away. Eat, nap, read, repeat. Turn another page and pass the Milano cookies...

Friday, November 21, 2014

Hubby, my biggest cheerleader

While posting prose and poems from The Fridge Magnet Chronicles, I guess I should throw in a little story about hubby David who is my biggest cheerleader when I'm feeling like a no talent hack. He's a writer too, in fact way more prolific at it than me who's been writing since I was 11. Of course he has me as his in house editor and typist. Anyhow enough intro, here's a funny one I'm sharing.

The Rejection Slip

It was a rejection slip for heavens sake! Although a very eloquent rejection slip, to be sure. Signed by a man named Howard and one handwritten word :"Onward!"

The original submissions were attached to a copy of the entry rules. Highlighted were the words, "please enclose a self addressed, stamped envelope to receive confirmation of manuscript arrival at our magazine."

The directions for submission hadn't even been followed correctly but Howard had thought enough of The Place and Fire Season to send a personal response. It made one wonder if all new aspiring writers were treated this well.

Oh come on Howard, don't sugar coat it, a rejection slip is about being rejected. But there is a bit of giddiness over acknowledgment from an editor, even one from XYZ magazine.

So all I can do is laugh at my husband grinning from ear to ear and dancing around with his rejection slip. We should write Howard a thank you note.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Cold and flu season

Didn't get my flu shot in time and came down with something last week that made me hack and cough and use lots of tissues. Thought I was feeling ok but now may be relapsing. Pretty much just want to stay in bed but can't due to all those adult commitments like work etc. But I can at least complain about things so  here goes...

MY DAY

Not to comfy
In my skin
Forgot about
My hairy chin
In traffic while
I write this poem
I drive to work
Would rather be home
Today I hate
My underwear
Looked for socks
No matching pair
Yogurt is
The lunch du jour
End of day
Please hold the door
The mail piled
High with bills
Off to store
Forgot my pills
Carpet cleaner
Chimney sweep
Appointments I forgot
To keep
Too hot for bed
No clothes are worn
My eyelids blink
And now it's morn