Friday, December 23, 2011

Cristmas Past and Christmas Present Wonderings


                                      Ok, time to post some of my babblings of wonder. The first two are from holidays past followed by this years greeting of wonder. I then felt inclined to add some of my more twisted weird therapeutic stuff, so beware! 

Wondering at Life  First wondering?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       2006
As you may already know, I have always been one to wonder greatly at life. My Grandma Eris used to comment on how when I was a child and she would come visit us in Logan Utah I would not come home right away after school. One snowy day she came looking for me and found me sauntering along, smiling and looking up at the snow banks in amazement.

I have not changed much in some ways, even at 45 years of age. As I ride my bike or walk along our road I often notice interesting items and sometimes pick up trash. Once in a while I score a good tool or bunji but sometimes there are strange articles of apparel or other "things" that just send me to wondering. "Who does it belong to?, where did it come from?, How did it wind up on the side of the road?"

Today I was walking to Triangle Market to post some mail and once again was sent into a mode of wonder. There on the side of the apple orchard was a foamie (Yes, the thingies used to enhance the size appearance of breasts). Just one.  Now the possibilities are endless as to how this lone foamie got to be on the side of Triangle Rd. next to the apple orchard. Now somehow this single foamie perplexes me much more than the broken snow chains or even the lime green undies I wondered about last year. Questions of who?, why? what? spin through my mind and scenarios take place like stage plays in my imagination. 

I can't help think of Grandma E. and her piece of obscenely shaped driftwood she loved to plunk down in front of people at the table after a holiday meal when we would be sitting around talking & laughing. Aunt Marie would turn beet red and laugh so loud & hard, we all had to laugh. Somehow  Grandma passed on and understood the sense of wonder in this child. Hmmm.   


May your holidays be full of laughter and wonder!

Love and joy and all good things in life,

Jeannine

The foamie of wonder

                             
                              Santa Baby                      2007

Merry, merry Christmas & Joy to your new year!                                                                           

This is NOT, as it may seem a picture of sugared chocolate raisins. It is actually (I believe anyway) frosty reindeer poop, which I found while gathering foliage for Christmas boughs. A good sign that Santa is near! 

As you may know, I returned recently from 12 days with my Grandchildren. Now last year, I brought to them, with great excitement & joy mind you, my precious Santa doll that my Grandpa Johnson gave me when I was a tyke. Now Santa has been through a lot and has a taped leg as well as other issues, but despite these defects, and the fact that My daughter Vanessa, to my surprise was "creeped out" by the elf all these years, little miss Lily (1 & 1/2 years at the time) fell in love with the doll, dubbing him "Santa baby". She slept with Santa baby every night for months obviously as enchanted with him as her Grandma Neen had been so many years ago.

Before my trip a few weeks ago, I asked Vanessa about Santa baby, knowing that Lily (all of 2 & 1/2 now) had been playing with her Mama's old but well kept Strawberry shortcake dolls who donned lovely pink and yellow locks. Vanessa informed me that Santa baby had been forgotten and wound up at the bottom of the toy box. Just days before my phone call Lilly discovered him there, pulled him out and looked at the taped leg and touched Santa baby's tattered dirty beard with disgust. Santa baby was rejected by the person who just months before held him like a precious gift and saw magic in his still rosy cheeks. I knew I must bring the magic of Santa baby back!

After I arrived and settled in at my Grandchildren's house, I asked Lily about Santa baby. Lily disappeared into her room and reappeared holding Santa baby out to me. "Oh" I said, " I'm so happy to see him. Oh look (said I while stroking his dirty tattered beard), he's so old" Lily reached out and took Santa so gently and held him so carefully in her arms. "He's so old and precious" I said. Santa baby shared Lily's bed again, being the chosen one that very night. The magic was back as well as hope for all that is old, including this old Grandma!  

It just goes to show that we don't have to be young and beautiful to be considered precious. How gently and preciously are we each held by the one whose Birthday we celebrate this and every Christmas.


  May you be blessed, and kept, and held Dear each day of the New Year,

~J~ 
Frosty reindeer poop


Lily & Santa baby
Simply Wonderful                                                                                           December 2011

Yes, yes, here I go again. Not therapy this time, just simply simple wonderings of a wandering well of weird, wild waywardness. The journey this wondering wanderer has been on has sparked much wondering to the simpler ways of life. So much has seemed complicated this past year, but after taking things a bit too seriously, the simple ness of life has revealed itself to this soul and opened some doors for less complicated joys. Recently I came across my Great, Great grandfathers song that he apparently sang every day that I had stored on my computer along with these babblings of mine.  The song speaks of such raw realities of such a simpler time that I had no choice than to regroup my perspective on my own life that seemed to have gotten so very complicated.

Wondering wonderment began to fill these untamed brains of mine after reading G, Gpa’s  favored song. How in the bleeding blue blazes does one turn ever so slightly around to find their babies grown, with babies of their own. Simple struggles such as how to tromp through the snow to milk the goats, will the well recover in time to give the garden the water it needs, do I need to allow extra time to get down the hill on my bike if the car won’t start, Does the neighbor need food or some help with a new baby, is there enough food and cheese put up for the winter from the harvest and such seem to be exchanged for more complicated worries. Now there is time consumed fretting about how to get a document working on the computer, people suing over every little thing instead of practicing what they were taught in Kindergarten or Preschool, Do I have to learn about webinars, or to click away at texting just to be able to communicate. By the time I am finished checking email and answering all that seems important, the day is half gone. Good thing there are no goats to milk!

This year my loved ones has been one of the most difficult for this weary wondering wanderer, but the most rewarding in the end. It all comes together with what my friend Kitty said to me one day during an extremely rough time in my journey. “Don’t forget your frame of reference”. That frame of reference dear ones is you. All of you.  My joy in sense of community has carried me through the roughest of times this year and my roots grow deep in the rich soil of that frame of reference. People have come beside me and even carried me at times when I thought I’d never make it. The joy and peace brought by such love is so simply wonderful that no complicated lifestyle or gadget can interfere. There is no doubt in my heart and soul that there is someone too big to put in a box of religion in charge.

Tonight my friends and family, I sit in my simple cabin, with my simple fire, simple cat, simple unemployed life and simply tap away on my complicated computer to simply say, thank you for being my frame of reference.

Peace, Joy, Grateful Blessings for an astounding New Year.

Wonderful things, Jeannine

For the tune and words of Sweet Betsy From Pike (song that my G,Grandfather sang every day ) check out this family website  http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~hindorff/fallbrook%20lambs.htm  Baby Lucy Gird lamb on the lap of her older siblings is my Grandma Lucy who my little #3 Grandmonkey Lucy is named after. 


 
Little miss Muffet                                                     5/25/2009

The other evening I while showering, I looked up from scrubbing my hair to notice a female spider way in the far corner embraced in the act of mating with ... well, her mate. It didn't take me long to realize that she was murdering the poor amorous fool while tangled in the throws of passion. Yes really. Sucking the life right out of him.
  
The next night I got ready to hop into the shower & noticed the male spiders curled up, lifeless body laying limp on the bottom of the tub, while the female spider rested contentedly up in her corner. This all, of course, led me to wondering...wondering... Hmmmm...  
  
Never cease to let the mysteries of life spark wonder in your soul.

~J~

This next blathering of pure poetry was inspired by NanO, one of my biggest inspirations in life. She was my Park ranger little house on the prairie buddy when we were raising our kids and has moved through her schooling to Teach Deaf Ed. NanO makes me laugh at just the right times, and her wonderful husband Rick shows up with perfect timing with an encouraging word and if I'm lucky, a bottle of wine! Cheers NanO!

NanO & Rufus at Briceburg

               Butts & Boobs, or A Celebration of Gravity                        Feb/2010

Butts will spread, and boobs will fall, beauty fading...over all 
Brighter colors brighten the face, but black around the hips is placed
Springtime calls, the garden beckons to plant those taters I do reckon 
No time to wonder about sagging asses, mine is joined by the masses
Celebrate the new found grace a gift from gravity to body & face


There you have it. I believe a scarf dance is appropriate with recital of this "poem"

 
Masses of Sagging Asses

I'm in the masses of sagging asses
 What er' shall I do?
 my friends they all have asses that run downhill like goo
 Our butts are where our knees should go,
 And knees set at the ankles (oh woe)
 Masses & masses of sagging asses
                What er’ shall I do… 

2 comments:

  1. Beautiful poem...so happy we have shared so much..and we can laugh as we watch our asses sag!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Woohooo!Cheers NanO for giving me years worth of gut wrenching laughter through some assdraggin' times.

    ReplyDelete