Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2017 09 01 Hi Maintenance September 1, 2017

Hello September. And that’s it. That’s all I got for you. Oh ya. I see you sitting there, all fat and sassy, but all I really feel like saying to you is, you got some nerve! Who do you think you are? Hmm? You think you can just stroll in and shove August to the side? Do you know how rude that is? Did your mother teach you any manners?

Oh ya, that’s right. Your mother is Mother Nature, and I keep forgetting she doesn’t need an excuse to do anything. I think she raised her 12 little high maintenance months the same way that Father Time raised her, or were they cousins or something?

Anyway, it is the start of fall, and today it sure does feel like fall. A low pressure system blew out to sea overnight, and man is the chill blowing in from the west. Safe to say, Fall is only three weeks away, although Summer is trying to fool us.

Yes, it’s me again, and yes, it’s been some time since my last blog post, and yes, I am sorry, but I haven’t felt like doing much writing these past few weeks. I better get my butt in gear, because next week is the start of the fall semester at school, and there’ll be plenty of writing to do. I’m taking two communications classes this fall, and between talking and writing, there’ll be plenty of communicatin’ going on.

Ok then. I hope you’re all doing well, and that you’ve had a great summer.

Take care, and God bless the lot of ya’s.

dp

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2016 10 16 October Morn October 16, 2016

Is this really October the 16th? Is summer but a fleeting memory of warmer smiles? Was that a flock of Canada geese I heard fly overhead the other day? Did I really have to scrape the windshield yesterday morning?

Holy crap! It’s autumn!

It’s been a while since my last entry, and I apologize for that. I have been busy with school, and when I tell you that this semester has been one challenge after another, well, please believe me. I also ask you to believe me when I say that with each challenge, there have been hidden treasures of opportunity that I have found, worked through and learned from. A kaleidoscope of higher learning, higher education, higher, um, stuff that I have managed to gather and collect and carefully place along the shelf of life. My life. Don’t ask, because I’m not giving any of it away. I might be persuaded to lend you some, but I will be wanting it back.

Should we expect the return of something that we pay forward? I think not, but don’t let that stop you from keeping on paying it forward. Things come to us unannounced and cleverly disguised, so don’t ever think that if you keep on paying it forward, you’re holding bin will run empty, because it won’t, it doesn’t and it never will.

Man am I getting swayed by brainwaves.

Here I am, there you are, and here we go. My son and grandson are coming over today. We’re heading to the coast, to Belfast, our favorite place in the world, or at least Maine. There’s a little hole in the wall Chinese take out place that we love to visit. My taste buds are frolicking with my mind already just thinking about it.

I went to the white cane and guide dog walk in Augusta yesterday. Bill Green was there from the famed Channel 6 show, and overall, the day was filled with smiles and laughter and canes and paws. My sixth event in as many years, and I’m already looking forward to year 7. I’d like to thank Debbie’s mom, Kay, who assisted me around the two block walk. I’d gladly follow you anywhere kiddo, and thank you very much for the wonderful conversation on a beautiful October morning.

Well, that’s about it. I’ll try to check in more frequently, but we’ll see what happens.

I thank you all again for stopping by, and I also hope the rest of October brings you tons of wonderful autumn memories that will keep you warm through the winter months.

Take care, and God bless the lot of ya’s.

dp

 

2015 04 28 Poetry: Seeded Hand April 28, 2015

28 down and 2 to go. My oh my how four weeks can run by in a flurry.

And here we are, once again.

This is still National Poetry Month, and it has been my honor to take part in something of significance that honors a form of writing that I am so fond of. Like the seasons that wrap around the calendar, writing has found a way to wrap around my billy goat soul. It helps me to realize how many things there are out there that I cherish more than I know.

One of those things is gardening, which I never thought I would ever get a chance to do after I lost my vision. Back in the summer of 2010, we had one of the best gardens that we have ever had out here on the ridge. My wife took charge of the reins that year and helped the season to bring us probably the best harvest season we had ever had. It was a hard year, but with her efforts, the wicker baskets were rounded full with a splendor that I will remember forever.

In the summer of 2013, I was given the opportunity to dig my fingers back into the soil with a dear friend of mine. It was hard at first, but after a few hours down in the dirt, the sweet, sweet dirt, I quickly remembered everything that I love about gardening. It was one of the best summers I have ever lived, and it brought me back to a level of independence that I could never have been able to afford.

I love to garden. I love to grow. I love to listen to the plants speak and sing their songs. I love the sound of the summer breeze whistling down through the rows of planted life. I love it and I hope you like the following poem.

Take care.

Deon

***

Seeded Hand

A slow, spring thaw brings with it a welcoming sight
Battered row and beaten hill applaud the warming days of May
Last years withered vines slowly give way to steel tine
Moist coolness caresses tired spirit and replenishes a searching soul

Senses come alive with sweet aromas of freshly turned earth
Dig down deep with anxious hands and clutch the moistened dirt
Like old family remedies, the feel of earth soothes a growing heart
Loosening, fertilizing, sowing away under the rays of the day

Promising of new growth, the planted seed take their place, row on row
With crafted care, mounds, hills and beds slowly take their shape
Stretching from seed, sprouting armies slowly show themselves
Push and shove, shove and push, reaching onward and upward

Giving way to growth, soil cradles stem and stalk
Young, bashful green, crouch timid amidst showers of sunlight
Row and hill emerge with summer’s sprouting promise
Infant bounty is nourished by day and caressed by night

Inch by inch, new growth stands tall with impatient life
Nature’s chorus sings its familiar tune across posted row
Wandering vines search out, grabbing hold and clutching tight
Twisting buds proudly burst out loud with fragrant flower

With hand held care, flavor and fruit grow and slowly find their shape
A mid summers breeze carries with it the hint of scented names
Spice and flavor ride along the wind, singing out loud
Patience and care give way to the moon’s full, fresh bounty

Smells and tastes define the assortment of rooted vine
Cool days chased by chilled nights beckon fall’s harvest call
Hand picked beauty slowly rounds the wicker full
Cherry, roma, and early girls ripen with painted shades of red

Bells of yellow, green and red are crisp with slice
Orange jacks and towering gray stripe search out autumn’s song
Plump, sweet kernels cling tightly to silky stalk
Canned rewards trumpet loudly, signaling the season’s end

Once again, hand sculpted earth has given its all
Thankful splendor gives way to winter’s gripping frosts
Frozen vines huddle close and recall daydreams of summer tales
Chilled blankets of white cradle the ground with a season’s lasting lullaby

Thawed once more, the tines of spring reach in and dig deep
Grateful cycle, awakens again with new, familiar ground
The promises of a new season await the seeded hand
Journey towards the harvest fall begins new again