Wednesday, May 29, 2013



The water and sanitation department have informed me in my latest bill that I am being moved to one garbage pickup a week. They have also listed new rules for what I may dispose of in my magnificent 96 gallon can. Rules! Can you believe that!

Gone are the days of cheering when the sanitation men toss the commode from the bathroom remodel into the back of the truck. I have spent summers playing ‘will they take that away?’ It goes like this: okay they took the commode but what about the huge vanity and cabinet. Not any more, they now have new rules. ‘Will they take that away?’ was as summer as baseball or water skiing.

In the future if I want to get rid of a commode, I will have to break it into small enough pieces to put it in a garbage bag. They want all garbage now in a garbage bag, don’t even think about letting your garbage loose inside the splendid 96 gallon can. Remember the garbage bag commercial where they were hauling a tire in the bag?  Contain it. Keep the can clean. It has a serial number and can be traced, in case you are contemplating a can adventure.

There might be a more sinister reason for the garbage bagging, perhaps they are not taking our garbage to the dump. That could be one reason for these new rules. They might be saving our dump and mailing our garbage somewhere. This could be the reason for the new rules. Just imagine Fed Exing the garbage.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Finally It's Spring

It hasn’t been that long since our last killing freeze. What an unpredictable spring it has been, and we will just slam right into summer. I would really enjoy some warm afternoons and cool nights before the heat descends upon us. The roses are blooming. When roses that have taken so long to get established bloom, I don’t want to do anything but sit beside them and smell their perfume.

They looked like twigs when they were first planted. It has taken a little longer to get them established because of the weather. I neglect them. I take a survival of the fittest approach to rose growing. They are among the hardiest of plants and the secret is to find the right location for the right rose. If you are successful then you will be rewarded by wonderful days of blooms and scent.

Before spring gets here I often have to go to the nursery and fondle the leaves of the plants. This is a poor substitute for spring but sometimes it will pull me through the last of winter. It is a completely tactile fantasy, stroking the leaves and wishing for spring. Doing this keeps the use of heavy drugs down when it is too cold to think about going outside and digging.

Yesterday the tornado hit Moore. Today they are digging among the rubble for the survivors. In little ways we are all survivors, called to go on in spite of the sorrow of sifting through the rubble. It is an unimaginable horror, this job of searching for loved ones.

Spring always brings the violent weather to Oklahoma. The storms of great destructive forces taking lives and destroying property blow through here again. The beauty of the roses will only last until the winds of the spring storms come. Like the roses each of us blooms in the right location. I take my tea and enjoy my roses while I can. Last week I was able to sit beside them on most days. They are fragrant and full of blossoms. Wonderful!

Today the winds have passed through here. Most of the petals of my roses are gone. The bushes look to be in mourning, as their branches lay in the mud. Flowers ripped from the bush. So it is with all of us as we sit and wonder at the destruction that we have survived.

Monday, May 20, 2013

This is the anthology for the Bartlesville WordWeavers. Please download it free and enjoy the talents of the local writers.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013



My son was a beautiful child. He was serious, always thinking, blond curls, and really funny. We have had many adventures while he was growing up, like the “flying, fuzzy rat thing of Arkansas.” I loved the time I spent with him. I always felt we were very close.

Imagine my surprise after confiding to him that I was researching blogging and really thinking about doing it, when his response was “WTF, mom.” I couldn’t believe it. Was he casting aspersions on what I had to say or my technical ability to perform the task? Did he think me so inept that I couldn’t master a new skill? This is the child that knows I can learn new stuff.

I think as someone who is of the female persuasion with gray hair I must look so inept and harmless that he thinks I just sit at home or knit doilies, or bake bread. I did do a lot of baking when he was little but not so much lately. Rather, I sit at home nursing a desire to share my voice and observations with whomever I can find out there in cyberland. I have even checked out the Blogging For Dummy’s from the library and it has pictures. I have mentors who will answer my questions. I am not without resources.  I will continue to do my research and get my blog started.

I know that those of you out there can’t imagine this statement coming out of the mouth of your precious two year old, but just wait. They say this when they tower over you and believe you live in the dark ages. Where has my sweet wonderful child gone? I grieve. I will show him…”WTF.”