Night Vision

 

It started off as just a fun idea.  I was going to get some night vision goggles and sit out in the woods next door after dark just to see what kinds of animals came by.   I had a small camping stool and lots of bug spray.  I knew better than to sit out there with all the mosquitoes and not have my bug spray.

 

First off, I just want to say how very noisy the woods are.  I never hear it during the day because, I guess, there is so much other stuff going on, I never pay attention to all the little twigs snapping or leaves rustling.  Daytime hours bring the sounds of passing cars, and neighbors fussing with their yards, but at night, without all those other distractions, it really is a busy place – noise wise.

 

Anyway, I set my stool up against a good-sized Oak tree.  I didn’t want anything sneaking up behind me.  This way, I thought anyway, that I wouldn’t been seen by anything out there if I was up against a tree, also it gave me something to lean against.

 

I didn’t bring anything else with me, just the stool and the night goggles.  I certainly didn’t want to have the smell of food around.  If the critters were going to smell anything at all, it was going to be bug spray, nothing else.

 

I tried not to fidget while sitting there, I knew the slightest sound would scare off whatever was around.  Not fidgeting, by the way, is not easy.  It didn’t take long to get tired of sitting in the same position, and the last thing I needed was to get a leg cramp or something, but I did it.  I sat motionless for what seemed like three hours, even though it had only been an hour and 10 minutes when my first visitor showed up.

 

Here’s what I didn’t expect.  My first visitor was not walking towards me, or just passing by out there in the woods.  It was climbing down at me from the Oak tree I was leaning against.  It apparently had been up there from the time I set my stool against the tree.  I could hear its claws digging into the bark and I could hear it breathing.  Very slowly I raised my goggles up to my face and tilted my head back.  Now we were face to face.  My strategic positioning had suddenly put me at a major disadvantage.  Not knowing at all what to do next, I froze.  I was hoping these night vision goggles made things look closer than they were, but as I could smell its breath, I knew that was wrong.  One of us was going to have to do something.

 

 

You'll just have to wait and see

 

The Walking Stick

 

It happened one night - while I was sleeping quite soundly,

Age somehow found me - my eyebrows are white.

I should have known it came creeping,

While I was off sleeping - my joints are now achy and tight.

Such a scoundrel this age is, as life turns its pages,

Tis a shame that large print seems so right.

                     * * * * * * * * * *

 

So I visit the old man and no sooner do I walk in, he starts complaining about his new walking stick.

 

What’s the matter with it? I ask.

 

It doesn’t work.  It doesn’t do anything.  Do you know what I had to pay for that thing?

 

Dad, it is just called a walking stick.  It’s not supposed to do anything.  You hold it when you are walking, and it helps to stabilize you if you feel wobbly.

 

Wobbly?  What kind of word is that?  I never taught you that.

 

It’s just a word Dad.

 

So can you fix this thing?  (he says as he holds up his new walking stick)

 

“It is a piece of wood.  There is nothing to fix.  It has no moving parts.”

 

Yes!  That’s the problem.  Now you’re getting it.  It should move.

 

That is when I found myself again looking over at my old friend - the visiting hours sign.

 

Really?

 

Are you sure?

Lepomis Macrochirus

 

This is the effect of all the

Bluegill fish staying on

the other side of the lake.

Dark Forest by Pittsburg Paint

 

There was an absence of leaves shaped like a bear.  I thought it was a bear at first glance.   It was like one of those cartoon characters that just ran through a wall, and now the hole in the wall is their exact outline, but this was a wall of leaves and the outline was a bear.

Of course, the more I looked at it the more the bear simply became a misshapen shadow of dark forest, which – by the way, would not be my color of choice for a kid’s room.

“No Timmy, that one IS a bear.”

Linda and John

 

Our likeness was captured and placed in a frame,

Now we are destined to sit here and smile –

Nowhere at all does it mention our name,

We’ll be here for quite a long while.

Through yard sales and garage sales to antique shops in time,

We will travel through life just as faces –

In cartons and boxes with clocks that don’t chime,

With postcards of forgotten places,

We know you don’t know us, our houses are gone

Our number – don’t bother to call it,

We’re simply a couple, call us Linda and John –

The ones who came with your wallet.

UFO's

 The photograph below has not been doctored

or photo-shopped.  It was taken without special filters

or enhancements of any kind.

 There are four spacecraft shown at the

edge of this cloud formation.

They have been verified.

Notation:  These craft are smaller than those previously photographed, and are not visible in the night sky.

The Fly

 

I felt an insignificance

compared to life around,

I was smaller than a crumb –

 

Everything was large to me

I was smaller than a bumble bee,

no opposable thumbs –

 

Minding my own business

just doing what I otter,

When suddenly it all went dark...

 

I call this poem –

Fly Swatter.

 

zc

The Spaghetti Farm

 

Sue had gotten a book from the library on spaghetti farming, and the more she read up on it, the more she wanted to do it.  Her sister Leeann already owned the stretch of land just west of the interstate, and hadn’t ever done anything with it.  The book had a lot of good information in it and several good hints, so before Sue returned it to the library, she wrote down the author’s name and the publisher’s information and ordered her own copy from Amazon.

After convincing Leeann to lease her the property, Sue set out to talk to the banker.  She was going to need some rather expensive equipment and some initial supplies to get started, so she would need more money than she currently had.  What Sue lacked in collateral she made up for in enthusiasm and the banker could see that.  The bank manager just seemed to know there was no way Sue would fail at this business.  She got her loan.

That first summer was spent prepping the land.  Using a Massey Ferguson 571 Tractor, Sue scraped off the top surface of her stretch of Interstate land.  Not only had there been weeds, but debris as well.  There were all kinds of litterie things along the roadside, like beer cans, candy wrappers, the occasional hubcap and a few body parts.  Sue donated everything she collected to the local landfill.

In the meantime, her order of Italian seasonings had arrived, which included  large sacks of Parsley, Oregano, Basil and Fennel.  Using her John Deer tiller, she blended the spices into the thick, rich tomato sauce mixture she had spread across the farm, sprinkling olive oil as she went.  Using breadsticks, Sue marked off her property line at each end and set long stretches of red and white checkered tablecloth material as a barrier along the edge of the Interstate to prevent any future debris from coming over onto her farm.

Not unlike sourdough starter, pasta noodles must be carefully trimmed from a source noodle.  Once gathered, there is only so much time to get them spliced and into the sauce before growing season begins.   Just as Sue was well into the splicing project, a health inspector showed up and began to question Sue about the various body parts she had donated to the landfill.  As Sue was giving the inspector the details of what she had come across, the inspector was sniffing the air and looking a little confused.

He finally interrupted Sue and asked, “Where’s your garlic?”

 

A Point in Time

 

There comes a point when you know nothing you do is going to keep the ship from sinking.  It is a mental resignation.  Just as you knew back at the bar, you had enough money to keep drinking but no amount of alcohol was going to undo what had been done.  There was no going back.

 

Neither scenario is desirable.  All control has been taken away from you.  The water that now washes over the deck of the ship is ice-cold on your feet and urges you to seek higher ground, but too much has transpired leading to this point in time.  Even your now soaked shoes feel the ocean floor tugging at them, beckoning them to join the murky bottom.  They have become anchors.   They are heavy and your feet are freezing, perhaps offering a glimpse of an imminent reality.   

 

There are no Jack Sparrow moments here.  No last-minute rescues or flashes of genius that will turn things around.   In this moment you know exactly what it means to go down with the ship, and yet your mind races, your eyes dart about the deck hoping to see something, anything MacGyverish. 

The Old Math Teacher

 

By the time he got home he was completely

worn out.

That was way too far to carry the one.