
sunday morning sun
slants through the blinds and underscores
the small heap of guy and girlie things
fresh from the dryer and
loitering on the unmade bed
like so many multi-colored Jelly Bellies
oops not a metaphor to pursue
22 Oct 2017 2 Comments

sunday morning sun
slants through the blinds and underscores
the small heap of guy and girlie things
fresh from the dryer and
loitering on the unmade bed
like so many multi-colored Jelly Bellies
oops not a metaphor to pursue
08 Oct 2017 2 Comments

What a beautiful fall day – doors and windows are open and the air smells clean and new. Farmers Market is winding down for the day, and Kansas Jayhawk football is happening over on the Hill, the culmination of Homecoming Week here. Kim’s watching the game while he cuts up a bigly mountain of peppers to freeze, a generous gift from our friends Terry and Leigh and their bountiful garden.
Well hey, I started this yesterday and then Calgon took me away. It was a good day all the way through…riding with Kim while he ran errands, napping, walking to Cielito for a margarita and dinner.
And now it’s a sunny Sunday morning, the chef has returned from the PickleBall wars, he’s in his kitchen making ranch omelets, and life is looking entirely doable all day.
These are the things that matter. When everything around us is unending chaos, these are the things that carry us through the days until the outer world seems real again. We have to keep our hearts open to the beautiful and the true in life – the things we can’t afford to lose. Hang onto them like life preservers. It’s the only way anything makes sense.
02 Oct 2017 Leave a comment

stunned and sitting shocked
fabric is ripping apart
how will peace be found
JSmith 10/02/2017
28 Sep 2017 Leave a comment

doubt butts into life
and tricks us into sorry
paralyzation
JSmith 09/28/2017
26 Sep 2017 6 Comments

“An adventure a day” has been our marriage mantra from the beginning – any time we find ourselves up against a plot twist, we have to figure out how to turn it into something fun, interesting, challenging, or in some other way memorable. Easy-peasy most days, as it turns out, and we have some great little stories to show for our efforts.
We’ve also each carried a desire, over the years, to belong somewhere. Kim’s been looking for it since his growing-up years in SoCal, and I spent a lot of years wishing to feel at home the way I did on the family farm where I grew up, as I felt forever the outsider on my married-into one.
Lawrence is proving to be that safe space for both of us – the vibe, the weather, the manageable scope of our surroundings, the sense-of-new that’s in the air we breathe. Being seated on a jury this past week only added to the knowledge that I’m a real citizen here.
Physically and psychically it was a challenge (aka adventure). Having been a jury member twice now, both criminal cases, it’s my heartfelt opinion that sitting in judgement of a fellow human is the heaviest responsibility this side of bringing home a new baby.
The charge was Criminal DUI, the charged a young Hispanic man. Young white prosecutor, older Hispanic defense attorney. Young white highway patrolman, phlebotomist, and KBI expert. All-white jury pool. All-white jurors, five women, one man. (We learned that misdemeanor offenses require a six-person jury and felonies twelve.) I think I could be an effective jury consultant after watching the attorneys narrow the pool by dismissing every male the approximate age of the defendant and keeping all of us who looked like sisters, moms, and grandmothers.
The charges…
1.) Operating a motor vehicle in an unsafe manner
2.) Driving 92mph on a 75mph interstate
3.) Driving under the influence of alcohol
4.) Refusing a breathalyzer and a blood test
The highway patrolman’s testimony was articulate and the evidence of speeding was solid. The KBI’s toxicology reports were quite conclusive and delivered in a succinct manner by a young woman who clearly reached her level of expertise by virtue of knowing things. The phlebotomist from the hospital demonstrated serious credibility and provided key testimony about the chain of evidence. In the only nebulous part of the evidence presented, the grainy dashcam video shot at 2am was helpful but not conclusive as to the charge of unsafe driving.
We were the typically assorted crew, and although we exchanged very little personal information during off moments, our personalities were coming out by deliberation time. Our lone guy struck me as neutral, right down the middle, just the facts, please, all in a day’s work. Of the five of us women, one was a no-nonsense Fox News conservative (her words) and not interested in nor affected by any discussion of potentially mitigating circumstances; another was an educator, probably in her 40s, who engaged us in discussing various scenarios and possibilities; there was an adorbs sorority girl from The Hill who seemed to be most concerned about making all the numbers add up so as not to wrongly convict the defendant; then you have me, the eldest in the room, focused on all my unanswered questions; and finally, a young woman not too long out of college and involved in a career. She volunteered to serve as foreman, which surprised me until I saw her in action.
Foreman Woman efficiently and dispassionately took us through each of the charges one by one and we discussed them until we felt ready to vote. We voted GUILTY on three of the four charges, the only logical thing to do in view of the evidence. Even as we filed back into the courtroom, my brain was still trying to work out why the defendant had requested a jury trial for a DUI, and how a conviction was going to affect his mother, who was in the courtroom both days. Nonetheless, it was done, over.
Afterward, the judge came to the deliberation room and talked to us, and in answering our questions she provided two key pieces of information that have allowed me to let it all go:
1.) Sometimes people request jury trials on the outside chance that a jury might have enough doubt or sympathy to exonerate them.
2.) This was his second DUI offense.
Okay, I’m sorry, nice-looking young man, go do your time and learn some things about life.
And I’m sorry, mister well-trained professional law enforcement officer, that I entertained the slightest possibility of not taking a proven menace off the highways. Wow, he looked so clean and earnest and hopeful, too.
When I met Kim for lunch I realized that I was shaking all over, mostly from relief that all of us together had managed to do the right thing. The heavy sense of responsibility stayed with me into the evening and I found myself crying over silly things on TV.
Alexander Hamilton, et.al., placed a lot of trust in the jury concept – that Americans through the years would retain enough personal integrity to make life and death decisions as concerning their fellow man. This one was fairly easy to own because the solid truth of the body of evidence was overwhelming – we were presented with established facts from credible witnesses. And yet when you walk into the deliberation room you’re hit with the sense of accountability you owe to the entire process, and that’s good – it should never be an easy assignment.
I’m relieved and gratified to say that heritage didn’t show up in any way as a topic for consideration – we discussed only the facts and the evidence supporting them as they related to the charges. Each of my fellow humans on the jury surprised me in happy ways and each one taught me something. Thank you, our beloved forebears, for entrusting this important task to simple citizens – we truly are all in this together.
This, for whatever reasons, has been a hard post to write – I’ve been trying to find the words since last Thursday and now I’ve written a whole LOT of them and this has grown long. I keep thinking of what the educator in the room said: “If any one of us were to find ourselves in trouble in a court of law, we would hope for an honest, serious jury who would consider nothing but the facts of our case.” Amen. It matters.
18 Sep 2017 2 Comments

rain makes me happy
when the sky cries i feel joy
am i damaged goods?
JSmith 09/18/2017
16 Sep 2017 Leave a comment

gray flannel morning
melancholy permeates
in here and out there
JSmith 09/16/2017
14 Sep 2017 6 Comments
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These are strange times, so strange that every day brings something we haven’t had to deal with in quite this way before.
I’ve been thinking about the “feel-goods” we latch onto when life turns tentative, like when a horse named Seabiscuit raised the spirits of the whole nation by winning against all odds.
Reading and writing are always my first means of escape, but I’m gung-ho about the sportsing, too. I’m awkward, I have no depth perception, and no athletic abilities whatsoever, so I sign up to clap and cheer because I genuinely love most all of it. It’s soothing to watch the fluidity of trained athletes using their bodies to full effect, smoothly doing the things I can’t, winning and losing battles that aren’t life and death but feel somehow meaningful.
PGA tournaments are wonderful for watching and sometimes napping, but there’s also major league baseball, college basketball, and professional tennis, my favs. I have a love/hate relationship with boxing and football, both of them damaging but also full of spectacle, ability, and sheer bravado. I’m not sufficiently motivated to figure out how soccer, rugby, and their cousins work, so I tend to space those off. Ice hockey is sanctioned brutality, and bowling on TV is out of the question – I’ve never been that bored, no offense to bowlers. Olympic years are like dessert, the best saved for last.
What’s your preferred method of escape? I’m always looking for new ways to win at life, and running away from it is how I relax. 😇
06 Sep 2017 7 Comments

Good morning, friends. I woke up to sunshine and a stack of birthday greetings, so I’m currently fortifying my brain and bones with coffee and preparing to meet myself at age 70 before the day’s over. It feels odd to own that milestone, but my primary emotion is thankfulness – I’ve outlived my mother by three years now, and I like not dying yet, so here we go…
Kim’s playing PickleBall for a couple of hours in NoLaw, and when he’s home and showered we’ll walk through the alley to The Roost so I can have potato pancakes like my mom made. This evening will be dinner at Basil Leaf, with serious fasting between the two birthday meals. Some industrial-strength healing is in order as well – over the weekend Kim narrowly missed getting slammed by a bronchial event, and yesterday I picked up where he left off. It’s been years, I have no idea how many, since I’ve had a cold or flu, but this thing is trying to kick my butt. Razor-blade throat, cough that won’t quit, head full of gack. My stubborn intention is to feed it, drown it in good coffee, sleep it off this afternoon, and otherwise ignore it to every extent possible.
I have projects to finish and about a million books to read, so Job One is to stick around and do life right. There are people to meet, family to embrace, music to cry over, beauty to fully appreciate, and love to hand out like candy, so I hope I get to stay here with all y’all a good long while.
Experience is worth everything and I happily own the lessons it’s taught me – I’m genuinely liking this part of life from 65 to whatevs. Things have kind of smushed together by now and squeezed out the excess baggage, so I mostly deal with only what really matters, and that works super nice.
Hey, I’m feeling better already. An excellent week to all, and come talk to me. 💋
25 Aug 2017 8 Comments

Do you know how it feels to want to hurt someone? Hurt them so bad they can never get over it but they still have to live life in their own skin? You do, I know you do, because almost no one skates by without incurring collateral damage that nobody ever apologizes for. I loathe how powerless I am when events happen and life heads south and the person who instigated every bit of it is untouchable and not affected in any way by my heartache, indeed could not be less aware of my existence.
The fact that someone who will never lay eyes on me (it is to be hoped) holds the power of life and death over everyone I love seems deeply unjust. Unless we begin life as a proverbial Bad Seed we grow up wanting to do right and BE right. And then in some of our lifetimes a cataclysmic event changes us and sends us down paths we never would have chosen on our original trajectory. Inevitably, the world around us also swirls and heaves and splits at the seams, making it a challenge to find our footing again after the storm subsides.
My loved ones – a bigly number of people – were doing just fine until monsoon season hit, and it angers me that the current atmosphere is causing personal safety to once again be in question. It’s anger from way down, and it’s a new thing, and it scares me a little because I can’t afford to morph into a nasty bitter old woman, so my choice is to laugh at everything and everybody until life seems real again. Because right now – and I want to be very careful how I say it – this is horseshit.
08 Aug 2017 3 Comments

This morning someone I love flew home to her family and I miss her already. We said our goodbyes last night, five days after she arrived, and 40 years after we’d last seen each other.
Katie grew up in Michigan while my environment was the western Kansas landscape. She was a city girl, I was a country mouse trying to keep up and to figure out what made her so incredibly cool.
We were together only a handful of times over the years, but there was a bond that made us sisters as well as cousins. Life happened, of course. Katie birthed seven babies in eight years and added an eighth baby just for good measure, so she got a little too busy for letter-writing. I was preoccupied with the details of my own budding existence, so we gradually lost touch.
Enter Facebook: something I posted moved Katie to call me with the news that she was coming to Kansas to see my two sisters and me – and three days later she did. Four decades of involuntary separation melted away within seconds and we were sisters again. The hours flew by, as they do when we’re having fun, and it was over too soon. The memories are for keeps, though, so no crying – just plans for seeing each other again, sooner rather than later.

Rita, Susan, Judy, and Katie
01 Aug 2017 Leave a comment

august has arrived
summer is quickly waning
have some fun right now
JSmith 08/01/2017
29 Jul 2017 Leave a comment

weekends feel dif’rent
even for retired kiddos
neutral is the gear
JSmith 07/29/2017
26 Jul 2017 3 Comments

Feels like a slow roll toward the weekend, a quiet HumpDay providing the fulcrum point, rain on its way in 4…3…2…maybe. At the moment it’s 80º, 83% humidity, no breeze. We can all say *sauna*, I know we can.
Kim came home from 7am PickleBall in the park a big ol’ sweaty mess, which always heightens our appreciation for a shower with actual running water. Just yesterday we were reflecting on everything we have to be thankful for while celebrating our wedding anniversary – thirteen years of genuine happiness so far, with everything necessary to keep it working. Neither of us expected to live this long, let alone together, so every bit of it is gravy and we’re absolutely grateful.
We threw together a few ground rules for A-Day before it got here:
So that’s how that was. Kim played PickleBall and then we went furniture shopping in Kansas City, which turned out to be a nice little thermometer for the relationship we’re celebrating. We don’t always head down the same path when it comes to home decorating, but yesterday’s discussions contained no whining or angst, just a clear-eyed look at what the possibilities were. In that spirit, we bought a ceiling fan we both liked, and came home to further research ideas. Slice o’ pie.
Speaking of which, lunch at Granite City was simple, tasty, and fun, and the Bloody Marys were positively ambrosial. We watched DVR’d stuff in the afternoon and both fell asleep in our respective chairs, are you feeling the pathos here? The thing is, if we’re “old,” we’re happily so – life is SO much less stressful when you’re not in charge anymore. We woke up in time for a vodka toast or two, popcorn, and another KC Royals win. It was a good day, or what we refer to around here as Tuesday.
And now the rain is here and our Wednesday is complete before noon. I hope if you need rain in your week you’ll have rain. I hope if you need the sun to shine there will be nothing but that.
“You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes well you just might find
You get what you need…”
"How did it get so late so soon?" ~Dr. Seuss
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