Cats and Dogs
Jim Kirkpatrick
They are so often an important part of our young lives as playmates. Many in late and much later life we have them as dear companions. When someone will comment regarding the loss of our dog or cat, “it was only a cat (or dog).” Imagine, it may have been her closest companion for many years – possibly much longer than her closest friend.
There are differences; your relationship with your dog will usually be on your terms. Your relationship with your cat will be on the cat’s terms. I once heard it said that if your dog jumps up on your bed, he loves you; when your cat jumps on your bed it means he loves the bed.
The pet companions of those in late life have often been there longer than any of their current human friends,
“A dog asks So little and Gives So much.”
Some say that a man doesn’t own the dog – the dog owns the man.
I well remember our Boston Terriers. They were very social. They were obviously aware of everything. If there is gentle peace/if there is a little tension, If you were just not doing well – they knew, if there was something “not right” – they knew. They so enjoyed and appreciated any and all contact, and recognition was so welcome.
Butterfly Tattoos
Ruby Regina Witcraft
In one of my wilder moments, I decided I wanted a tattoo, but not a permanent one. Mostly, it was to shock my swimming pool friends and it did.
Target had stick on ones in all designs but I loved the pretty butterfly. It was very easy to apply over my left breast, above the bathing suit line and looked pretty real and pretty, pretty. I placed it there because it was the least wrinkled. Even so, the few wrinkles made the butterfly wings appear to be flying.
The early morning swimmers were all buddies of mine so I was fearless when I removed my cover-up and quietly slipped into the water, showing my butterfly tat, as I greeted everyone good morning. All bugged eyes immediately went to the butterfly with gasps of, “Oh No,” greeting me. Next utterances were “Is it real?” Naturally, I was in for the full effect so my answer was, “Of course.” Now everyone wanted one, so I had to admit that it was temporary.
I had anticipated this reaction from these gamey women and had brought several packets with me. There were various assortments of hearts, roses, birds, etc., but none that professed love of mother, country and Elvis. No flags or anchors or hula girls, just pretty ones. The ladies got their choice and applied their own personal tattoo in about the same place as mine.
Now you haven’t lived until you have seen the striking display of bouncing bosom, artistry as everyone proceeded with her usual morning workout of jumping jacks. The butterflied actually looked like they were flying and the roses were in full bloom. For two weeks, the wash off period, we all felt just a little risqué.
After all, in our generation you had to be drunk and in the Navy to even consider a tattoo but not my girl friends.
Do I Dare????
Jacqueline M. Ruffino-Platt
Do I dare write? Do I dare write about me, my family, my friends, my husband and my careers? Do I dare write a non-fiction, fiction, autobiography, biography or comedic episodes? All these questions popped into my brain deciding which side of my brain do I listen to. Last year, I decided to seek out a Writer’s group. A group who does not criticize or critique and then tear apart a story into tiny little shreds. A story written and believed to be from the heart. There are many classes and groups mentioned above which exist and would welcome you if interested. Do I even dare? No. The decision I made was no doubt the best. On my first day, I walked through the door of a room filled with the most talented, friendly, energetic and gracious folks. I found a chair and sat myself down and began listening to the writers read a story or poem, their choice for the day. Were they reading segments of their lives, their families, their friendships? Were the stories filled with compassion, love, sadness, happiness and mystery? Some stories and poems written by the group are very funny, which brings lots of smiles and laughter. A few readers have us sitting on the edge of our chairs with their stories of fiction and mystery, and holds intrigue to the end. As I looked around the room, even to this very day, have their eyes focused on the reader and listening to every word flowing from their hearts. I asked myself quietly in my mind, do I dare expose my inner thoughts and share my family secrets, and my feelings to a group of strangers? Do I know these men and women whom I just met, to trust whatever I say, to invite me, accept me, into their two hours of a simple and meaningful group?
We Love Our Automobiles
Bill Bjerstedt
Ford
Dodge
Fiat
Sabb
Lincoln
Plymouth
Buick
Volkswagen
Zim and
Zill
more and more
and when we buy one
it cleans our purse
and makes us want to curse
but….We love Our Automobiles
change lanes
slow or fast
follow, pass
with a dash.
siren or flashing lights
pull off the roadway very fast
and let the go on quickly past
low or empty
tank of gas
fill it up with
lots of cash
horse and buggy
hay for fuel
a little slower
on the pull
for heavy loads
they used a mule
Hi Ho Silver
for the speeders
of the grass eaters
Get’m Up Scout
hi-test, regular
with no lead
gas or diesel
at the pumps
take your dollars
in big lumps
four on the floor
automatic garage door
traffic signal
red or green
with bright yellow in-between
backfire!!
blow a tire!!
parking meter
quarter eater
used to cost
a nickle
turn signals
left or right
honking horns
make you deaf
hi-way bi-way
alley
road, or street
intersections
where you meet
traffic backup
sit and wait –
and get home late
with all this said
and done to us
my story ends
with
take a bus….