The Answer

The Answer.

Did I get your attention?
Are you looking for the next line?
Is the media fooling the part of your brain that is dying to cut to "the end", "fine", all done, mission accomplished?
Do you keep spinning around on this planet feeling still and wondering why nothing and everything seems to be changing?
Do you wake up in a panic sometimes feeling you have no idea where you or anyone or anything is going?
Do I mourn the whole system where 2 people this week told me they can't afford their cardiac medication? And I know the system these politician prostitutes is creating would not even be useful as cat litter. They are politicians. They did not ask me, the health care provider and consumer what people need. People need people, not a new system.
Don't throw politics in with caring for humans.
But what is the answer?
I don't know, only questions.

Mary

Read to me

"Read to me."
 Hunter said without saying a word.
"Now."
Hunter said in an impatient tone.
Still no words but the actions, his eyes were clear,
The intention was there,
The demands undeniable,
unable to be refused
and oh so precious in my memory.
Hunter, How can 16 months give you so much
knowledge and yet,
as soon as the book was 3/4 done,
Hunter was off to his next task
with equal full bore forward attention
That I marvel at.

The Bridge is Closed

The bridge is closed
That goes over Lake Champlain
Between Chimney Point,Vermont and Crown Point in New York State.
It has been 400 years
since a French man named Champlain
came here
to explore new real estate
as men have done since
and we wonder
when where and how
the new bridge will
be constructed.
We hope that the residents of both sides can weather this unusual occurence with the least amount of harm. So many rely on the traffic across and around the bridge. I lost the picture of the rusty piers. Just as well it is a scary one. We were on it a few weeks ago.
Best wishes also to the ferry operators who are keeping the traffic flowing.
Mary

Pictures Fall Vermont

Late Foliage Season

It is late
in the foliage season with leaves
falling to the ground fast and furiously.
Piling up in the front yard
We let the wind take what it will
Up to the woods
Where squirrels take cover.
Have a great fall season.
Mary

Blog Interrupted

Fresh Post




My internet connection has gone

Kafluey

(is that how it is spelled?)

Maybe

Koophlooey?

Caphluey?

What does it matter?



I am (have been) unable to post to my blog

That has become

A refuge for my thoughts

And documentation of my human travel experience

Even if it only

Scratches the surface,

And then only when I can get

A connection.



Well I am writing this 10/15/2009 Thursday PM in Monkton, Vermont

And hoping the phone guys can get

The lines going again.

Don’t take me wrong,

This has caused me to rethink

My reliance on the internet

And how there are a billion starving people in the world

Which I heard on the radio.

So why are my connection contributions so important?

I found myself whining and caught myself as explained above.



So happy we planted seeds and are still reaping the rewards.

I hope you have enough to eat.

Consider growing even one thing to eat.

Will I still post when I can get back on?

Of course.

I hope what I write helps even one person even if that is myself.

I hope you have a great day, wherever you are on the planet, and have food and a warm place to sleep. This is in advance and

Yet to be posted….when the internet comes back. Mary

10/20/09. The internet came back on just as I was getting used to be unconnected again.
I had wanted to check if Mercury has been retrograde but I couldn't google.
Best wishes on making your connections. M

Poetry: 340 and Music

Three Four Oh


340



The code


Some one


Thought


Should describe what


I have and others have


And try to describe


By words


And symptoms


As varied


As the colors on a rainbow.






340


The international number


That doctors use


And insurance companies


Cringe at when they see


The number


That means expensive


Meds, treatments and tests


And a person who may not work


Long enough to pay it all back






340


I looked for wisdom in that number


And some sign


That the number meant something to me


Or those others with what I have


That quirky strange set of symptoms no one can see but me right now


Some day perhaps I could be identified


By wheels or a cane or a staggering gait.


For now I can keep others from knowing


What I have


Is


340


_____________________________________________________

notes: "340" is the International Coding Term for Multiple Sclerosis.
It is used for Doctors, Hospitals, billing, etc.
in numerolgy it is reduced to "7" which is a very unique number. Am I over googling???
Oh, who cares....mary
_____________________________________________________

Also I wanted to put a link to our favorite vinyl music station going through some hard times. Help support them if you can.



http://www.musicheads.us/

Have a great day werever you are!

Notes on Mom's pictures

I wanted to write a few notes about Mom's oil painting "period" in her life.
The dates started about 1967-and went on for a few years. She took a class and for awhile her art teacher was mine as well. I longed to be able to put what was in my head onto the canvas but alas I am not able to like Mom did.
I used to watch her create and was flattered she did my image.
When I asked her why she did not "sign" my picture, she said a good artist does not need to sign for you to know it is their art. I guess that is true about a lot of things.
I pitched a fit about the same art teacher. He said I did not do a project because he said it was too good.
I knew I did. So I imagine all my fits in the seventh grade might have distracted Mom. Or maybe she just lost interest as I have done many times in exploring a new genre.
She did submit "Mark Twain" in a contest. She submitted his painting as a historic figure.
She lost the contest because she had actually painted "Hal Holbrook as Mark Twain". It was a show that played about that time. So the judge felt she was painting a modern image of a person playing an historic figure.
I felt like it was splitting hairs and not really fair. It would not be the last time I felt humans would be unfair.
Ah, the pain of self expression.
Mary