MY MOTHER

Were my mother still alive, today would be her birthday. 

This is a photo taken the last time my mother was able to visit me.  It was a precious time as after that, she became ill, and never recovered.

Several years ago, I wrote a small book of poems entitled, WOMAN KIN TO WOMAN KIN: A Story of Generations

In that booklet I wrote a poem for each of the woman on my mother's side of the family that have/had meant so much to me in both my growing up years, and today as well.  Here is the poem from that booklet, to my mother:

My Mother

Everyday just as we passed Gugino's driveway

I'd look back.

Standing at the window

curtains parted

she stood sentry over us.

We'd walk two houses farther before I'd glance again

and still she hadn't moved.

I'd  walk and look

walk and look

and she never went away,

even when I turned the corner

and could no longer see our house

I could sense her watching over us.

All the years we walked the mile to school

I never got so far

that I didn't feel her loving

and protecting me.

Even to this day

across this stretch of nation

across this stretch of years

she is just around the corner

and I can feel her mother-eyes

upon me.

She is the vessel

that funneled me full,

pushed me beyond all boundaries,

bringing me into being...

bringing me all creation.

Mother, I am moved by the sacred sound

resounding in our blood.

What I am fits

glove-like over you.

Just beneath my skin

you lie

always nestled in me

my protector and my strength.

Inwardly and onion-like

all the women of our past

layer far into the core.

Infinitely deep

we sing our godsong,

our womansong,

eternity rings forth 

upon our breath

and we endure

we endure. 

I am glad I was moved to write this 'family song' before she became ill.  I am glad that I was able to tell my mother of  my deep love and how much I cherished her.  To this day, across this stretch of time and death, she is just around the corner, and I can feel her mother-eyes upon me...my protector and my strength.

 

 

SUNDAY RESPITE

I have been spending much time in the kitchen preparing for the Lawton Memorial Library fundraiser dinner, which was last Saturday evening, and a resounding success despite misgivings about getting it all done, and preparing for the Friends of the Kickapoo Reserve Appreciation Dinner this coming Saturday evening.  When I say spending much time in the kitchen, if you multiplied that by several, it might come close.  Now, don't get me wrong, there is hardly a place I'd rather be, except perhaps outdoors.  

But still, it felt wonderful to take Sunday off, or at least the afternoon, and go for a hike with friends on the reserve.  We hiked below the Billings Creek trail on the way in, stopped after an hour or so, had a picnic with terrific food and wine, and resumed the hike.  We returned on the Billings Creek Trail.

As usual, Freddie led the hike, and his skill at this is unsurpassed!!  

We had a wonderful time, the weather was superb, sunny and warm, and the rock outcroppings, as usual, stunning.  I never seem to tire of hiking on the Reserve, everywhere you look, is a scene that tops the last.  We are so lucky to live in this area, to be healthy enough to hike these hills, and to have good friends with which to do these things.

Hopefully I will soon post about these dinners that have consumed my days.

Autumn Odds and Ends

The lovely part of Autumn is slowly slipping away.  Yesterday Freddie and I took a hike on our (207 acre) property.  It is beautiful, located here along Jug Creek amid the tree-covered hills.  Still, most of the trees have lost their leaves, except for the oaks, that is.

 

This mighty oak, said to be over 200 years old, is at the top of a steep incline, stretching its limbs far out into a canopy.  It is a powerful sight to come upon, and never ceases to startle me with its majesty.

Autumn is also bringing an end to the garden.  My sweet red peppers have been prolific, and I still have some sitting indoors in the sun, reddening.  

Roasted red peppers/onions.

Heavily oil (olive oil) a baking dish, cut up peppers, onions, garlic and in this case an eggplant as well...(lots of onion and garlic), and salt/pepper to taste.  Roast in 375 degree oven for a couple of hours.  This is great as a side dish, served over toasted crusty bread, or mixed with Italian sausage.

 

 My kale is heartily growing along, and it, too, is prolific.  I picked nearly 6 pounds of it this morning.  De-stemmed it, cut it up...

and it filled to overflowing, this large stainless steel bowl.

I then brought a kettle of water to a boil, blanched the kale for 2 minutes, cooled it, and was able to freeze 6 bags.  

Come the cold of winter, this kale sauteed with onion, garlic, and Italian sausage, with the last 15 minute addition of cut up potatoes, is probably my second favorite meal (homemade pizza being my first.)

Brussels sprouts are still doing well, and I also picked plenty of them today.  We will have maple-glazed Brussels sprouts later this week.

As much as I love fall, it also presents an overwhelming clean-up time.  The garden clean up seems far more intensive and demanding than planting time.  Perhaps it is just because by this time, it is all old news????

AUTUMN 2012

I think that this autumn is by far the most beautiful in my memory.  I know there are others who feel the same, and everyone is trying to articulate what feelings are being evoked by such magnificence.

The colors are so intense that I feel a bit exhausted, at times, contemplating them. 

The expression 'exquisite pain' comes to mind, as this beauty slams into one with great force.

It burns itself into you...

and even though it is almost too much to take, we keep on looking and loving and entering it.

Many, many years ago I found a poem by Bliss Carmen (1861-1929) that came pretty close to capturing the beauty of autumn...he could have written this in regards to fall this year.  There are lines in this poem that I covet, and wish I had penned.

A Vagabond Song

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood-

Touch of manner, hint of mood; 

And my heart is like a rhyme,

With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry

Of bugles going by.

And my lonely spirit thrills

To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;

We must rise and follow her,

When from every hill of flame

She calls and calls each vagabond by name. 

Bliss Carmen

Autumn has been calling me especially hard this year, and I have wanted to articulate my feelings in words...darn that such lines like 'there is something in the autumn that is native to my blood' are already taken.  Even knowing that Bliss Carmen has told the story so well, I have attempted myself....a work in progress. 

AUTUMN 2012

Color pushes the limits

this year

almost, though not quite

violently.

The hills, a riot of flame,

push me, too,

singeing my cheeks...

and for a moment

I am aflame...

I am but a leaf

dazzling myself

and the world...

while the blood

roils and tumbles

snapping and sparking me

to the edge of attention

where, on this brink,

I burst into the

magnificence.

Joanne Adragna Shird