Two More Poems

Whenever the Wind Blows

When I fall asleep

I sleep quite hard

Whenever the wind blows

Slumber invites me

Into worlds beyond this one

When I fall asleep

My eyelids become heavy

My thoughts are put on hold

Whenever the wind blows

My husband can’t believe

How quickly I drift off
When I fall asleep

How the trees dance

And leaves often fall

Whenever the wind blows

There’s a calm cool breeze

That surrounds me but I miss it

When I fall asleep

Whenever the wind blows

                       

                                                                   

                                                            kfralc

Assisted Living

Harold

Bent over

Kissing

June

June

Kissing

Bent over

Harold

                                                            kfralc

  

Thank You Rob Buyea

I mention my discovery of Mr. Terupt in this post.  Rob Buyea makes reference to several books throughout the two books that I’ve read and I have made my journey into some of those books. So here are my reviews on “Belle Teal” by Ann M. Martin and “Belle Prater’s son” by Ruth White

“Belle Teal” is told in first person by a girl who’s been named after her grandma – Belle Teal.  The story takes place roughly 1961 – 1962 I’m guessing in Virginia. Two things stand out for me.  One is that Belle’s grandmother has Alzheimer’s or another form dementia.  It isn’t explained.  Even back then – there wasn’t the same understanding that we have now – and are still trying to explain.

The other is/was the relationship between her classmates.  One is a black student who has just transferred into an all white school.  Another is a high and mighty princess, also a first timer for that particular school. The other is the son of an abusive drunkard parent. They had formed a friendship in a previous grade. 

I absolutely love the way Belle Teal handles herself and tries hard to make friends and tries hard to add harmony to classmates and to situations that occur.  I also like her enthusiasm with her writing and her creativity.  She reminds me a little bit of my own Jenna.

“Belle Prater’s Son” also takes place in Virginia – but about ten years earlier.  It is told in first person – which I enjoy.  I always have an easier time getting into books that are told in first person.

Gypsy is Belle Prater’s niece, who tells the story mostly about her relationship with her cousin Woodrow, who moves in next door shortly after his mom disappears. There is a bit of mystery involved, tall tales, and finding self esteem.  The message I took from this story was that looks are not important and we needn’t treat one another in a way that focus on outward appearance.  I love how the characters are willing to accept themselves and grow.  I also like how Woodrow appreciates the simple things and what Gypsy has taken advantage of for some time become new again.

I Know I'm Alive, For There is Much Pain

When we first moved into the ward, our ward had been assigned to clean the building the last four months during the year.  It was finally changed to every third month – which is what I thought should be done all along.  But who am I?

Before we left the house, I took something for my allergies, as I knew we’d be going to the garden, which would probably make my sneezing act out even more. Usually our family is there at least three or four Saturdays to assist.  When we arrived yesterday, I figured it was the Elder’s Quorum that was in charge, as there were doughnuts, juice and chocolate milk to reward the cleaners afterwards. 

Jenna handed me a vacuum cleaner and told me that “we” were going to vacuum. “I” started out with the Relief Society room and then worked my way to the nursery and then the primary room.  I didn’t have to get any of the rooms on the other side of the chapel as I was told somebody else took care of that.

The vacuum cleaner isn’t that heavy.  But I am out of shape. I felt like I was going to die.

After doughnuts, we made our way to the community garden.  The sun was beating down on us – though few seemed to notice.  I don’t understand how they could not notice.

We raked up many of the weeds that had developed over the last two weeks. They were short enough that I could actually tell them apart from the plants.  But after bending down in the hot sun, I felt like I was going to die.

Came home to change so that we could attend a baptism (Roland was conducting) it’s all I could do to stay awake.  When the baptism was over we went home.  I took a three-hour nap.

We still had our own garden.  Waited for the sun and Roland decided to start on another project.  We could have tackled that after I got up.  Still not done with “his” projects.  And I still feel like I’m going to die.

Softball season has started

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The school that Jaime attends is surrounded by three ball fields – one to the south, one to the west and one to the north west.  In the center is a parking lot where many parents will drop off and pick up their children.  For the most part the lot remains empty during the school season.  But on the last week or two the parking lot is filled with more cars than parking spaces.

I told Jenna to come and look for me in the Church parking lot – which I learned has become the overflow parking for the softball fans.  I called out her name last night, for I could see her searching the Vantana parking lot.  I’m certain she’ll remember to look for the car in the Church parking lot for the remainder of school.

Yesterday morning I had Highness as the sun made its way over the horizon and could take him for a walk without getting caught in the rain.  We left the house at 7:30 but school doesn’t start until 8:40.

As I passed Vantana Jenna called me – believing I wasn’t paying attention.  I also passed the church parking lot.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to park over there,” I said as I pointed towards the kiddy /pavilion/and walking path park.  I figured we had plenty of time.  We walked a neighborhood street and continued our walk around and toward the school.  Jenna didn’t want to be late.  I don’t know why she thinks if I don’t have her there just one second before 8:00 that she will be late for school.  Silly girl.

Humane Sacrifice

         

  
       Jenna had a high pain thresh hold for many years and didn’t seem whimpy at all.  But now she seems to be the opposite – making mountains out of molehills (so to speak)

She took a spill quite recently and landed on her hand.  In the process she may have sprained her wrist.  She wore an ace bandage to school and says she wants a cast – but I don’t believe that her wrist is broken.  But she says she is too weak and has a tough time with it.  One specific example that she used was in getting dressed.

I reminded her about Katy Plumis who you can read about here and here. Jenna asked me to remind me about how Katy lost her arm.  I told her that Katy had been thrown out of a car because she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.  Katy’s cousin was killed in that same accident.

Jenna then says to me that she’d rather lose her arm than her life.  But then she said something profound that pleased me because of her mature thoughtfulness.  She said she would die if it would prevent Anna (her cousin) from dying.

Happy Memories

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When Jenna was younger, we would go for walks ALL of the time.  I would point things out as we passed different yards.  “Oh, look at the flowers”  “See that pretty pin wheel” 

 The thing that she seemed to overlook with each yard I pointed out was the well.  I never understood why she couldn’t see them.  Several yards contained some form of a wishing well.  I don’t know how many walks we took before I realized she was looking for a “whale”

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Jenna was three the first time we had taken her to Arizona.  We were actually in the city part when Jenna asked, “Are we in a dessert?” 

I turned around in disbelief.  How did she know that Arizona is a desert state? 

“Yes we are.” I proudly beamed.

Jenna appeared to be highly disappointed.  And here is why:

“I have looked and looked and I have not seen a camel anywhere.”

Oops.  Wrong desert.

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My Grandma and I had gone to a Ferrell’s ice cream parlor in Hawaii.  The Hawaiian menu offered a variety of dishes that were different from the Utah menu.  I thought  it would be fun to take a few menus home and trade them for a couple of Utah menus and watch as people would order these foreign creations which might fluster the waitress as it was obviously a Farrell’s menu – but wasn’t familiar with most of the items listed.

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Farrell’s had advertised soda water for  two cents a glass.  Patrick and two of his friends decided that they wanted to “splurge”  They got soda waters for each of them – that’s it.  I don’t think they fully understood what they were ordering.

One friend managed to drink it all.  I believe Patrick said he had swallowed down half of his.  But Mark could not get past the first taste.  After having gagged down the first swallow, he refused to drink any more of his two cent purchase. The entire bill came to six cents.  They left a fifty cent tip.


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Jenna loved fire hats and fire engines and fire fighter equipment.  I really thought that she would want to grow up to be a fire fighter.  But when asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she had it narrowed down to two: either a pirate or a ballerina.

Mystery Solved . . . or at least Somewhat Satisfied

Amongst mom’s journals are more photos of – who are these people?

Corey scanned the photos he had come across and emailed them to me asking if I might possible be able to identify any of members.  We didn’t actually know if they were photos from our family or my mom’s stepfather and the only grandpa that we ever knew.

Uncle Bruce said he’d be coming to town to visit mom. I wasn’t certain what month he would arrive but said he could come to the Memorial Day BBQ if he happened to be in town at that time.  It wasn’t until we were at the BBQ that I learned he had initially thought he’d come in June, but changed plans for the BBQ.

I had told Corey to bring the photos to the BBQ and ask Uncle Bruce about them – as he might be the only one with some clue – though Bruce doesn’t seem like the sentimental type – not at all.  Nor does he really know his dad or his dad’s side of the family – which is where it was decided that most of the photos were from.  It was mom who provided the names and BJ would nod and say, “Yea, that could be . . .”

Even Roland was able to participate with his uniform knowledge.  As Grandpa Bruce and his brothers had all joined the navy, it was decided that Marine belonged to another family.

Patrick made jokes to lighten the mood (as he always does) and I appreciate his humor.  Even Corey has picked up a little of that.

Sadly mom did not even recognize her own brother.  She would ask what his name was before.  He’d been named after their father Bruce James Purdy – who was against having a Junior.  So they named their last son Bruce J. Purdy.  Always an initial – never a full name.  He had always gone by Bruce, never BJ. Their mom and dad had divorced when he was just seven or eight – and so there never really was that confusion about “Which Bruce?” But mom just didn’t remember his name.

She remembers her brother who passed away recently.  She knows he’s deceased.  Right now she’s aware that he was a man when he passed away.  I thought her mind would somehow convince her that he had died at the age of two. It won’t surprise if she ever does think that.

Corey keyed in the names that mom had provided him – happy to have the information that really seems closer to accurate than any of the rest of us could provide.  Unfortunately there are two family lines that we really just don’t have much information for – the Purdy’s being one of them.