Tuesday, May 5, 2020

I'M STILL STANDING AFTER ALL THESE YEARS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm sorry I haven't been around. I got out of the habit of writing posts and now I can't get back into the habit.

Besides, I'm extremely busy doing nothing.

I've noticed that some people on our street are no longer interested in social distancing. Example: the guy with a teenage daughter. She was out in the street today in front of their house with a conglomerate of her male buddies. They love to drop the F-bomb, but they don't merely drop it. They scream it.

I swear if it's going to be like this during the entire summer, I'll have to take some action. I don't know what it will be.

My pink-camo mask is missing. It's a good thing that Carol had a blue camo left. A few years from now I'll probably find the pink one.

For those of you who don't wear masks and don't trouble yourselves with social distancing and other precautions, please do not darken my door. When restaurants, bars, playgrounds, and beaches re-open, I expect to see a spike in the number of confirmed cases and, sadly, the number of deaths.

We can't give up now.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Penelope is such a fashionista. Recently she wore a cap that matched her bandanna. In spite of her pride in her appearance, she still takes off when Carol and I try to photograph her.


She looks downright appalled in this photo,
but what's the point in dressing up if you won't allow
anyone to see how great you look?
 

Monday, April 6, 2020

SO HOW DO YOU LIKE HAVING THE KIDS AT HOME 24/7?

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I finished my taxes today. I have a headache.

How is having the kids at home working out for those of you who have children, or grandchildren whose parents work and the kids can't go to preschool or daycare?

I love this video of an Israeli mom ranting about home schooling. She's more than a little frustrated, as I would probably be if I went 30 years back in time when the oxymorons were youngsters.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug



And a bonus funny:

I'd be the teacher drinking on the job.

Wednesday, April 1, 2020

HELLO . . . AND SEE YA LATER

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I usually take time off from blogging during April's A to Z challenge, and this year is no exception. However, I'm so bored that I might end up publishing some posts anyway, and I'll check out your blog posts as I'm able to do so.

After my most recent, somber post, I have to give you something funny, so I'll ask Chris Mann to sing us out.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug



















































































































Monday, March 30, 2020

POETRY MONDAY: ANOTHER SPACE, ANOTHER PLACE

Gentle Readers  . . . and Maxwell,

Jennie-o of Procrastinating Donkeparticipates in Poetry Monday. She and her poetry pals choose a topic each week. This week's topic is writing. I hope you'll visit Jenny-o to read her poem and enjoy the funnies she posts.

I have shared a poem on Poetry Monday once or twice. I am too tired to try to come up with a poem (Did you notice to try to? To try and is incorrect.).  Jenny-o took writing and managed to come up with a poem about handwriting. I want to take the topic in another direction, so my not-a-poem is  writing, as in writing words that we read. For some reason, after copying and pasting ANOTHER SPACE, ANOTHER PLACE, I could not find it again (I'm holding my eyes open with toothpicks); therefore, I can't tell you when I wrote it. Probably during 2010.

If you're very kind, perhaps you will think that my writing is lyrical enough to be a type of poetry. Here's ANOTHER SPACE, ANOTHER PLACE:


Recently I was standing on line in a coffee shop behind a lovely young man in the uniform of the United States Army. He turned and asked me how I was, and I replied that all was well, so I in turn asked how he was.

He said, "It's always a good day when I'm not in Afghanistan or Iraq."

We chatted for awhile about the military and my own family history with members of the armed forces. Then I told him about my parents' trip to Hawaii and their visit to the USS Arizona Memorial.

My mother told me that soon after they arrived at the memorial, my father became extremely upset over the Japanese tourists smiling and laughing and taking pictures and they had to leave.

The young man told me that when you visit that memorial, it's an awe inspiring experience, that you're surrounded by a special feeling.

I brought up the Vietnam Memorial (The Wall) in Washington, D.C. He said, Yes, it's like that.

Every time I've been to The Wall, at least one veteran in uniform has been leaning against it, sobbing. When you visit The Wall, you're in Another Space, Another Place. It's a holy feeling. It surrounds you the moment you come close to The Wall.

I recommend reading "My Losing Season" by Pat Conroy. The entire book is excellent, but I am especially moved by his description of his visits to The Wall.

Quite a few years ago, my husband and middle-school aged child and I went to Washington, D.C. for an art exhibit. We couldn't get in. We got within six people of the door and that was it - everybody who was getting in for the day was in. I'm glad we did not make the cut because when we returned a few weeks later and were among the first six admitted, I learned that the last people to get inside had to stand on line for hours before actually getting into the exhibit.

So there we were in lovely D.C., and what to do for the day. Said Child wanted to visit the Holocaust Museum. I did not want to go. I have seen enough images of the Holocaust and they frighten me.

Said Child really wanted to go, and I gave in. It's important for us to teach our children about the Holocaust, about Cambodia and Pol Pot, about genocide everywhere.

We went in the museum and I found it to be awe-inspiring. It is beautiful in a way that defies my feeble words.

The most amazing moment of the visit for me came when we entered an area with some actual wooden bunks from Auschwitz. Once upon a time, real people, barely surviving human beings, were packed into those bunks to sleep.

A Woman was leaning against one of the bunks, crying and patting the wood. A tour guide? security person? told her, Ma'am, You can't touch those.

She said in her heavily accented English, You don't understand. I used to sleep in these.

We were in Another Space, Another Place.

For a fleeting second, I was with her in Auschwitz.

My husband left me many, many times, but he always came back. And every time he left, a little more of me died.

Finally, he left me for another woman. I went into shock. I was in Another Space, Another Place, and it wasn't good. It wasn't solemn and holy. It was terrifying and sickening.

He came back, but nothing could ever be right again. I was a fool to take him back, but he was sick and I was in it For Better or For Worse. I'm glad he finally left for good.

Now I'm in a safe space, a safe place. Away from him.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Friday, March 27, 2020

Thursday, March 26, 2020

BOY

Favorite Young Man has a birthday this month: his 40th. I wrote this poem for him when he was in high school



Boy

Boy, don't you fly so high.
Your daddy done warned you.
It ain't safe up close to the sun.

You gotta learn to listen.
You don't clean up the left-over wax and feathers like you told to.
You get too close to that ugly ole Minotaur.

Minotaur, he eat you up, boy.
And it because you don't listen.
Don't do like you told.

You a good boy though.
Don't complain livin' in the Labyrinth.
You good to Theseus.

You just gotta remember to listen to your daddy.
He smart -- he the one called Artificer.
He say keep low, keep low and close to the water.

Yeah, but I know.
I know you.
You do what you want.

Don't listen.
Get ready to swim because you goin' down.
Gonna fall.

It's o.k.
I see you -- I find you again some good day.
You gotta fly your way.

Sky's yours.