I’ll bring the Zen and
spend my day not thinking ’bout
sewage in a suit
JSmith 6/25/2016
Summer Love as always…
24 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
the hubby of me
saves my life by riveting
the little heart holes
JSmith 6/24/2016
Memory of a dream…
23 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
I move to your warmth
but you aren’t there
tears deliver me to unhinged
dreaming
and morning shows up rude
careless
awful
.
you won’t be there
ever again
nor there
nor there
and mornings will arrive
rude careless awful
forever
.
death of hope snuffs out life
a morning has to come
not rude careless awful
breathing beings cease with
only rude careless awful
but hope is pliant
she offers herself endlessly to true believers
.
JSmith 6/23/2016
By golly haiku…
22 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
pooled our ignorance
and got it done
old not daft
JSmith 6/22/2016
Hot-Day Haiku…
20 Jun 2016 5 Comments
summer solstice hits
crank up the whine-o-matic
sweat is water too
JSmith 6/20/2016
A sister I didn’t know I had…
12 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
Sally Field, who is approximately my age, struck me as overly adorbs in her Gidgety phase and her Flying Nun embarrassed me – such a dippy premise. She went on, of course, to conquer immensely stronger roles, but I realize now that it was the vulnerability oozing from every pore that made me shy away from her in the beginning – I had plenty of that without reinforcement from someone who was too cute for words.
Now on the cusp of 70, Sally Margaret Field, like so many other women in our generation, has found her voice. For maybe the first time, she is no one’s primary caregiver and doesn’t need help herself. Quoting from Apr/May 2016 AARP, “In so many ways I feel like I’m new to myself. I believe all of us, in every stage of our lives, are coming of age.”
Sally’s most recent character, Doris, one she molded and developed, sounds like someone I’d like. Quoting Field again “Doris {who’s a little eccentric} doesn’t see herself as older,” and she then goes on to laugh at the way she forgets about her own age until she’s brought up short. “You forget because inside you stay the same.” {Been saying.}
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday this week will bring more pool time in sight of those mortified young kids who are charged with our safety – pretty sure this wasn’t what they signed on for. I can’t be certain whether they’re embarrassed for us, for themselves, or simply disgusted at how stupid life is, but I’m going with all of the above. Speaking of age gaps, the AARP piece ends with Sally talking about playing the love interest opposite men who were one to three decades older, a studio decision that always embarrassed the actors. On the set of Absence of Malice, Paul Newman apologized profusely for having to kiss her – at twenty years older he was extremely uncomfortable.
However, author Taffy Brodesser-Akner says this about what Sally Field has learned lately – “…that the embarrassment is beside the point, maybe. The alternative to growing old is dying young, and she has so much left to do. She beams her Sally Field smile at me, that broad grin, her nose becoming even more of a button, her eyes shiny, and while what she says next is about kissing a younger actor, it’s also her most essential statement on this moment in her life:”
“We’re still alive and upright. Pucker up, honey.” ~Sally Margaret Field
Everyone will be relieved to know that no lifeguard personnel are at risk of being kissed or otherwise disrespected by class members. I mean, gack.
Haiku avoidance…
06 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
want to make progress
but our days are so laid back
the Zen always wins
JSmith 6/6/2016
June…haikuing out all over
01 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
June arrives on time
skies still hold sun rain sleet snow
fancy bull-shitsu
JSmith 6/01/2016
Memorial Weekend…again
30 May 2016 2 Comments
Went back to my 2014 remembrance post this morning, knowing that for too many people every weekend is memorial weekend.
It’s a typically perfect Memorial Day morning here, like so many from my childhood, when every year we could count on it to be raining or blistering hot and windstill, or freezing cold, or all of the above, in gusts, or maybe cool and clear after one of those rains. In Lawrence this morning it’s 79º headed for 82, sunny, blue skies, humidity has dropped from 89% when I went out at 7am to 60% five hours later, and it’s exquisitely beautiful out.
But life holds more than beauty – especially for those who will never see any of it again – and cloudy skies take over sometimes. By 2pm we’re supposed to be mostly under cloud cover here, which seems altogether fitting for the day.
In 2016 I reshare my family’s story out of gratefulness, and out of reverence for, and abhorrence of, unspeakable loss on all sides throughout the generations.
.
First posted Memorial Weekend 2014 (with edits 5/30/2016 – a personalized haiku for anyone who’s bored enough to find them all – link provided below.)
My grandpa enlisted in the Army at the age of 17 and served at the front as an infantryman during WWI. His six sons were all military men, Army, Navy, and Marines. The three Marines, 18, 19, and 21 were in the Korean Conflict at the same time, in the same general location, under miserable conditions. All seven Reese military personnel returned home intact in body and went on to raise thriving families of their own. Many of my cousins have also served with honor in the military. The only family member I’m aware of, without digging into the archives, who was directly lost to war, was my Aunt Bette’s husband, making her a teenage widow with a baby. The baby, my cousin Vickie, is standing in front of her mother and between our grandparents in the family portrait. My mama is top right in both the portrait and the thumbnail pics, somehow descriptive of her position in my life for all time. And kudos today to my Baby Aunt Barbara, lower right in both, who put this collage together.
So thankful to have four of the original Reese Dynasty kids – Vic, Jerry, Barbara, and Roger – present and accounted for, on this Memorial Remembrance in the year 2016. Hugs and kisses all around, beloved.
Ongoing family is priceless. Feeling deeply thankful right about now.
Okay, Constant Reader, the edits took on a life of their own, so don’t even try. If, however, you’d originally thought you might, for the haiku, throw me a subject and I’ll do it anyway!
Still raining, still haikuing…
27 May 2016 Leave a comment
fronts will come and go
rain falls rain stops rain comes again
the plants are rusting
JSmith 5/27/2016
Rain or shine…
23 May 2016 3 Comments
days sunny or gray
pass like water rolling on
inspiration dry
JSmith 5/23/2016
When it rains, we haiku…
17 May 2016 4 Comments
rain rain rain all day
more falls while darkness covers
all the world so wet
~JSmith
Add your haiku in comments!!
Ode to Bella Coma
12 May 2016 Leave a comment
whine
diss
opine
agitate if you must
so sad The Tombs were out of reach
tribe matters
~JSmith 5/12/2016
For Krista
24 Apr 2016 Leave a comment
morning glorious
blue-sky easy-breeze
families farmers mowers runners riders pedalers
dogs kids coffee sprouts
players hangers-on sun-babies
he does so we can
precious spoons accrue
Fat Lady mute
JSmith 4/24/2016
{Thoughts while pondering The Meaning of Life on a Saturday, prompted by feelings about the artists who’ve helped us get through the night, know ourselves better, value our existence more, give ourselves tacit permission to be weird. Those friends of the heart are relentlessly leaving us, and not by choice. They got older along with us, and talent can’t necessarily buy extra time – so we have a sacred responsibility to own what they tried to show us, and keep the lights on. Life is a good thing.}
A gift to my niece because she asked. She is a true poet and I love her enough to put some words out, knowing it isn’t a contest. ❤
A throwback to other lifetimes…
14 Apr 2016 Leave a comment
Once upon a time there lived a little farm girl with big dreams – and who knows where that comes from?
Her mother, grandmothers, a grandpa, her aunties, uncles, sisters and cousins were voracious readers so there was never a shortage of books at hand, all of which were free for the borrowing if you thought you were big enough. {Except for that one in the top of the closet – ZOWEE!} So yeah, big dreams got planted – extra points and a high five for the sweet double entendre, thank you.
She thought she was smart – she was told as much in subtle ways by other smart people, by which we mean her sassiness was nurtured to an appalling degree, thanks, Fam.
Alas, however, a shocking number of pivotal, paramount, life-and-death aspects of life were still unexplored at a juncture when that information would have been so very helpful to our farm girl. Since she was lacking in skills acquired only through knowledge, we’re forced to conclude that she was not nearly as smart as she might have thought. Let’s just say mistakes were made. Or in the words of her farm grandma, “Too soon old…too late schmart.” Sorry, chicky.
The girl grew up, sort of, and did the thing she said she’d never do – she married a farmer. And then a lot happened: a son, a life, a love, beautiful times, ugly times, hard and dirty work, serious illnesses, deaths, near-deaths, caregiving, more deaths, colossal lifestyle adjustments…and she matured, which is not the same as growing up. Our girl continues to reject that as a viable option.
She tossed those beat up green Ropers out and hasn’t been behind the wheel of a tractor or combine for more than a dozen years – a lifetime ago; however, we’ve all heard the wisdom that says you can take the girl off the farm but you can’t take the farm out of the girl. That’s truth right there, I don’t care who ya’ are. Here’s another one – you can’t take the dream out of the dreamer – and big dreamers win big.
Playing for Time 
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