Oh for Snow!

Hi ho hi ho

I’m an old Eskimo.

Sleepy after sleeping

Down words a-bleeping.

Shades of hell in New Mex

Like the rest of the text

Life in the heat with fires

hidden life behind tires

Wha’ happened to pretty

thoughts in the ditty?

If things get much worse

I may have to curse

and go back to bed,

c-pap on my head.

 

 

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That New Conspiracy Theory: the answer?

Could Q be Putin?

 

Nan

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In the Neighborhood of Verse

EARLY MORNING AWAKENING

It was 6:09 when I crept from bed.

Queen sheets often trip me but

I made it up and out of my room

to safety. I read too much I’ll grant

you that. You’d best quit reading this.

I’d seen a squib abut copperheads

in a closet nest, and I’d just read

about  more than a hundred species

of  arthropods found  in the average

home, listed for our pleasure surely:

a few spiders, millipedes, booklice,

silverfish, ants, midges, flies, rolypolys…

They didn’t count bedbugs because

too few—and of course the R word.

They weren’t counting snakes.

Back to me: I heard a click near my

ear.  Or was that a rattle? A presence

beside me in my bed!  Remember I’m

just waking up, emerging from dreams

to this!*                                         — Nan

*Although a house can feel empty when you’re the only one home, it isn’t really. A typical human household includes roughly 100 species of insects, spiders and other arthropods just milling around at the edges of the room, eating little bits of hair and dead insects. Rather than reaching for the bug spray, people should be excited that they live alongside so many other species ….Get to know your bug bunkmates, higher occurrence in more affluent homes.  (Compilation of wisdom from Google).

See articles from Atlantic, Mother Nature Network, N.C. State News, Time, Chicago Tribune and especially https://peerj.com/articles/1582/ (for a table of the bugs found).

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Spoiler: Sad

ME: Now why did I write that?  No one will want to read something sad.

YOU: Still self-defeating.  What’s sad? I’m a tad curious.

ME: Something I read somewhere, but I can’t remember where, so it can’t be plagiarism, can it?

YOU: You’re asking ME?

ME: I got this metaphor in my head and can’t get rid of it unless I scoop it out on paper–er, the blog.

YOU: Well?

ME: It’s abut a tube of toothpaste.

YOU: Whooppee! I can’t wait.

ME: Well, this child was given a giant tube of toothpaste to do with as she pleased.

YOU: And what did she please?

ME: Squeezing it out.

YOU: Oh oh, won’t last too long that way.

ME: Yeah, that’s the problem. Once she squeezed it out she couldn’t get it back in.

YOU: So she was stuck, huh?

ME: Worse than that. She was EMPTY!

YOU: So she learned her lesson, huh?

ME: But what can she do with it?  Don’t you see?  She can NEVER NEVER NEVER retrieve it!

YOU: Tough tootie.

The slight, unassuming fellow

looked somehow familiar when

he first visited our poetry group.

He introduced himself as Larry,

and then it clicked. “Larry Jageman!”

I blurted. “Nan Mykel!” he replied.

In group he was confronted over and

over for his peculiar verse–all hosannas–

yet took it  on the chin, calmly. Larry’s

attendance at group notwithstandng

was faithful, dogged,  and devoted.

He puzzled those of us who could not fathom

the persistent  style of his writing.

Were I confronted so often

and directly, I would have deserted

the group, my confidence crumbling.

I took his tears for sentimentality,

his occasional dark glasses a puzzle.

Was it his last group session that he

said next time he would share a situation

he was in.  He always spoke softly, but

this time I was fortunately sitting next

to him and heard him say that he was

afraid of his wife leaving him and that

she was afraid of him leaving her.

His  appreciation of friends, neighbors

and family, penned for more than a year,

seemed juvenile and rote to me, blinded

by a misunderstanding of his need.

He did take away something from the group,

and kept coming back until the end.

He was buried today, and I was there.

 

AFTERTHOUGHT

Upon remembering and reflecting, the image that stays with me is of Larry and Mary rejoicing in life’s grand square dance, and a reminder that there is a higher value than  rules. It is called love.

ME: You can say that again.

YOU: Tough tootie.

 

 

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How to Speak Transgender

I’m really compiling this to clarify things in my head.  What’s okay? What’s not okay?  I’m trolling the huge book Trans Bodies, Trans Selves; A Resource for the Transgender Community,  edited by Laura Erickson-Schroth, as well as any other informative publication I can find in my self-educational journey (which I’m willing to share with you but given my experience with blog avoiders of unpleasantness I’m not, as they say, holding my breath.)

Genderqueer

Genderbender

boi

Gender expression

Gender presentation

gender dissonance

transgender

gender nonconforming

gender identity

gender roles

trans guy

trans-masculine

sex

gender

bio-female/male

female/male-bodied

gender binary

female assigned at birth

trans identity

gender dissonance

gender incongruence

affirmed gender

assigned sex

TGNC –  trans and gender noncnforming

MTF

trans men

female-to-male FTM/F2M)

AFAB -assigned female at birthAMAB

intesex

disorder of sex development

LBGTQI

transition

top surgery

bottom surgery

transgendered

transgender

transexual  (TS)

sex reassignment surgery (SRS)

gender-affirming surgery (GAS)

pass

stealth

trans experience

affirmed male

affirmed female

sexual orientation

LGBTQIA – lesbian, gay, bi=sexual, transgender, queer, intersex and allies.

cisgender –  (gender identity matches their bology

the transgender continuum

 

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Never Pick Up a Snake by Its Tail

My granddaughter graduated from high school this June and then worked several weeks as a counselor at a camp in the North Carolina mountains.  She was tending to a calf when a black snake stuck its head up out of the straw.  Seeing it was not a dangerous snake, she immediately grabbed it but got it too close to the tail and it came back at her. Then she grabbed it again closer to the head, but not close enough.  Finally she got it by the neck and in the process had received only two non-venomous bites, which she said didn’t hurt. The captured snake was kept awhile–at least until she sadly said goodbye to the camp.    We have photos to remember her bravery.  You can see one of the bite marks on her arm.

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A Letter to My Son – Adoption Re-blog

Just wanted to share…

Hypervigilant.org

My dearest boy,

This year has been one of the most difficult I’ve ever lived. Let’s speak with honesty: you created most of the mountains and valleys.

Some people say hindsight is 20/20 regarding past mistakes. This phrase means that when we look back at the past, we have a clear picture of the choices we made, as well as the ability to see how the present might be different if we’d made other choices.

I see so many mistakes in our beginnings, due in part simply to ignorance. In some cases, these mistakes were coordinated by individuals trying to cover their wrongdoing. Sometimes, our vision was clouded by the possibilities. Other times, we were just too exhausted to see the right path.

In almost every case, the mistakes were not your fault. Unfortunately, those mistakes are partly responsible for your current location, in residential treatment—which doesn’t excuse your choices to…

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