Month: August 2014

I hear the clock behind me. It is a Seth Thomas from the 1870’s. So many of those are still running. I can’t imagine living without the sound of a clock and the strike of the chimes. Mine, a model called Atlanta, after the city, only strikes on the hour. It is a mantel clock but it sounds much larger. It sounds huge.

Above the hearth,

The clock lives,

No time to muse on the past,

Or years gone,

Because it is a sound,

That makes babies sleep,

And the mortal quiver,

The sound of night,

And lovers in the light

Of the moon through the window,

Listening to the clock,

The yips of coyotes,

A fan against the heat,

And their own hearts beating,

Then all is still,

As it is with Vampires,

And old clocks

That need to be wound,

And cared for,

Like love,

And memories,

That…

Clara said “It would be weird living in the White House with tours all the time. I mean, like, it would be weird hanging out at home and having a tour go by.”

I told my 14 year old that the White House was quite large and that I didn’t believe tours covered the private family quarters, except maybe some of the guest rooms like the Lincoln Bedroom. After a bit of discussion I explained that some people believe that Lincoln’s ghost still haunts the place.

“Why would he want to haunt people there?” The child asked. “He wouldn’t want to scare anyone.”

“Haunting isn’t always scaring. But he was murdered and that is why he is a ghost. Most ghosts are those who are killed before their time or murdered.”

More lessons in history.

School, that is High School has been uneventful this new school year. That is a…

You wait at my door,

Your bite still fresh,

Your cries

Your pleading

Your banging

The scratching

Your love

Astounds me

You will not give up

Fangs set

Love forever

I must let you in

For after all

Despite all

Forever all

I laugh

I smile

I let you in

You are my cat.

The Bully

Sunday mornings on the deck with coffee, a cat purring in my lap, a dog at my feet and my beautiful family still asleep upstairs equals something good. It is all good.

Of course it wasn’t always that way. I think of my kids. I’ve done a lot to make sure they’re strong and secure. I make sure they’re not open to con artists and bullies. I made sure that they learned to stand up for the weak and those who are different.

So why am I musing on such lofty parenting goals? It is because their witty, confident, successful and good looking dad was once the kid who went to school in fear each day because of bullies. Nobody thought anything of bullies back then, when I was a kid. It was part of the school culture. But you know, even as a kid I knew it…