Friday, December 15, 2023

Why Old Ladies Wear Slippers by KimB



I know why old ladies wear slippers...

Shoes are expensive

And slippers are cheap.

The first is too tight,

The next fits their feet.


They are easy to get on

And come off with a flick,

While shoes require

a bendover to kick.


Slippers are comfy

And and come in all forms,

Some are plain while

some are adorned.


Some have a lining

And others have none.

You can pick from faux-fleece

Or leather to roam.


They come in all sizes

And styles to chose.

You can have half a dozen,

With little to lose.


They keep your feet warm

When the weather gets cold,

Amd during the heat waves,

Your toes can go bold.


So here is to slippers

Soft, fuzzy or firm,

They have been around ages,

And wear them in turns.


One size fits all,

Which cannot be beat,

And we wear them however

They fit on our feet.


KimB 12 2023




Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Cards to Deck From by KimB



You play a Ten;
I play a Tree,
You play a Jack
and I a Three.
Next you pass
and play none.
I play an Ace
and next a Queen
And for Round One
I reign supreme.


I play my pairs,
and Sail the Sea.
Your Thief takes them
all for three.
You bend your straight
to the high.
My score is low;
the End is Nigh.
For Round Two,
Your cards held true.


Your Knight moves out,
My Clash hits hard.
Your best lands in
the Graveyard.
You spin a Snare
but my Spies see.
So I take yours,
when I pay a fee.


Fire and Frost
not quite spent.
With options few
to make a dent.
The Timer flares.
We're nearly done
One last tick
and then it's gone.


Who will win?
The game's in sway.
The tallest Last Card
will have Last Say.


KimB 07 2023


Wednesday, August 23, 2023

The City and The Yew by KimB



In a flower field; a mighty yew.
A day; a week; a year.

A city grew, in place of yew.
A smile; a laugh; a tear.

A bird once flew, from that yew.
A song; a thrush; to hear.

Silence fades, as noise cascades.
The city roars so near.



KimB 07 2023




Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Old Lady's Hands by KimB



Old Lady's hands

Have played in mud,
Drawn stick figures,
Made finger paintings.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have rolled first cookies,
Iced first cake,
Held first cones.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have cuddled first kitten,
Stroked first dog,
Hugged first doll.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have clapped with glee,
Hidden their giggles,
Finger-spied peeks.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have clasped first lover,
Styled their hair,
Sewed first gown.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have cooked first meal,
Cradled first child,
Pushed first stroller.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have carried the sick,
Fed the hungry,
Tended the infirm.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have buried their parents,
Buried their sisters,
Buried their brothers.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have mourned their lovers,
Mourned their friends,
Mourned their children.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands

Have wrinkles from love,
Veins from work,
Scars from toil.

* Old Men's hands have done the same but different.


Old Lady's hands,

Are the Map of Life.



KimB 07 2023


Wednesday, August 09, 2023

Walls of Illusion by KimB



Walls of illusion, a colored pale,
The line that separates within-the-pale.

Mimic breezes stir the air,
While the winds outside claim the dare.

Light is dark and Dark is light,
The splintered image in reversed sight.

Windows out and windows in,
The view can change at a whim.

Floors of stone, of wood and wool,
Transmute and tame Winter's chill.

KimB 07 2023




Wednesday, August 02, 2023

Camel Caravan by KimB


Musings on data packet loss...

Camel Caravan


One Hundred camels in a caravan,

along the Silk Road their passage ran.

One camel was lost, Ninety Nine remained.

Did anyone care where the lost One ranged?


Ninety Eight camels from the oasis left,

Ninety Six arrived at their next spot for rest.

Another camel strayed, afar and some,

No one bothered their heads counting sums.


Here a One, there a One and soon there was None.

People wondered how it was done.

For no one, it seems, had the slightest clue,

Who's job it was, to count camel poo.


KimB 08 2023

Camel Prints
Camel Prints


Sunday, July 23, 2023

Anniversaries by KimB



There is the day I was born

and the day I will die.

There are the clothes I have worn,

The hair that was shorn,

and the tears of goodbye.



In bins and bags,

the scent of wear,

the clothes, now rags,

with maker's tags,

the remains of care.



There is a goal.

The waves of pain,

a hidden shoal,

revealed to show,

where tears remain.



Caccitori.

A strifeful life,

Omlette glory.

Meatloaf stories.

cut of kindness' knife.



The day we met,

and how we laughed.

The times we wept.

The fun we kept,

which swept our path.



Half of two.

The morning sun,

The day renewed,

Like the morning dew.

Half in his course the Ram did run.



The flowers red bloom.

The soil tilled.

The yellow ones soon.

A color monsoon.

Martinis chilled.



Summer sweat.

The game's in play,

The racquet swept,

the ball in net.

The score decides a lunch to pay.



Kisses fine

and Lemon pies,

a Saint-Émilion wine,

bouquet refined,

made starry-eyes.



Cold dogs nose-es;

The woman in blue.

Frozen toes-es;

awakward poses.

Wind captured hues.



The bags are full, the bins have gone.

The closet bare.

Sorrow's thorns

of tears, still torn.

And dusty shelves, do not care.



KimB 2023

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Not Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup by KimB

I had a package of white navy beans and decided I would make Navy Bean Soup from them and there was a recipe on the package that said "Navy Bean Soup".

Ahhh... The memories of Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup came flooding back.

Nearly every day, early in the morning there would be a pot simmering away on the stove. The pot had either Uncle Charles' 5 Alarm Chili or was filled with white beans. All day the pot would simmer and the aromas wafted around the house as it cooked.

When the white beans were done at dinner time, big bowls and deep ladles of thick white soup would be served. Fresh hot corn bread and butter was set on the table. Grandfather always had a big glass of buttermilk with his meal.

One time, Grandfather poured out his big glass of buttermilk and the carton was nearly empty. He kept pouring out the buttermilk and the glass filled up more and more.

Grandfather had a way of getting everyone to notice what he was doing by the quietness of his actions, and soon everyone at the table was watching him pour out the carton of buttermilk into his glass.

It was clear the carton was nearly empty but he didn't stop. Soon the buttermilk was near the edge of the rim, but Grandfather kept pouring slowly into the glass.

Whispers of "It's going to over flow" and "Get the towel ready" could be heard as the buttermilk trickled into the glass.

Still, Grandfather tipped the carton up and a few more drips fell into the glass. The buttermilk had formed a bead dome over the top of the glass much higher than the rim.

Satisfied the carton was empty, Grandfather sat back and started to chuckle. There in front of him was an over full glass of buttermilk with a dome ready to overflow onto the table.

More whispers of "Get another towel..." and "How are you going to pick it up?" could be heard while Grandfather basked in his achievement.

With a twinkle in his eyes and a smile, he reached out and with a perfectly steady hand picked up the glass, then he brought the glass to his lips and slurped the dome of buttermilk off the top of the glass, as if it was the foamy head on a mug of rootbeer. SLURP! Not a single drop fell.

With visions of Grandmother's Navy Beans, I gathered all the items on the recipe list. Luckily, I had everything. I soaked the white beans over night and the next morning I assembled the entire list in the crockpot. One of the items was a can of tomatoes. I was a bit puzzled by this as I had no memory of Grandmother putting a can of tomatoes in her soup, but I never really paid too much attention to how she made the soup since it was always already on the stove by the time breakfast was ready.

Still it was puzzling, because normally you do not add anything acidic to beans at the start of cooking. No salt or tomatoes, which are acidic, because it makes the exterior of the beans harder and takes longer to cook them., so these are added towards the end of the cooking process. Some recipes do put acidic items in at first as the cooked beans have a different texture or the cooking process is for a specific dish.

So, I puzzled over the call for the tomotes but that's what the recipe said, so into the crockpot the tomatoes went, along with the rest of the items. The lid went on, and the dish would be ready later that evening. Images and thoughts of Grandmother's Fantastic Navy Bean Soup followed me throughout the day.

When I came home later, I could smell the aroma of cooking from the crockpot. As I entered the door, there was the delicious smell of cooking beans... except... hmmm... It didn't smell like Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup.

Actually, I don't remember Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup having much aroma, just fantastic taste. I came inside and put away my things and then headed to the kitchen to see how that fabulous pot of white beans was doing after hours of slow cooking. I looked through the glass lid and stopped. I blinked my eyes a few times, just to be sure I was seeing that what was in the pot, was really what was in the pot.

Not a white bean to be seen.

Everything in the pot was a pinkish-brown. The sauce was thick and the beans clearly cooked but it was all pinkish-brown.

I checked the recipe and it clearly said "Navy Bean Soup". I checked the list of ingredients and mentally ticked off each item until I got to the can of tomates.

Lightbulb!

The tomatoes had turned the sauce red-brown and the white beans had taken on a pinkish-brown color.

I wasn't sure what I had cooked, so I took out a spoon and gave it a taste test...

It was "pork and beans" style beans.

I made a few seasoning adjustments to the pot and thought about all those cans of "pork and beans" we bought at the market. We often served those out of the can on hot days or as an alternate to cans of Baked Beans for picnic style dinners.

I wondered if Grandmother knew she could have added a can of tomatoes to her Navy Beans Soup to make "pork and beans" style instead?

I am sure she did.

It was just everyone preferred her White Navy Bean Soup; the thought of which even now makes my tummy rumble.

One thing is for certain:

If the recipe calls for a can of tomatoes, it is

Not Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup.


Not Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup
Not Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup



Monday, July 10, 2023

Footsteps by KimB



[a simple folk song]


I heard your footsteps, darling.

In the morning sun.

I heard them on the grass, my dear.

I came upon the run.



I heard your footsteps, dearest.

I heard them, yes it's true.

I heard you walk upon the lawn, my own,

In the morning dew.



I heard your footsteps fading, love.

And watched you pass me by.

I listened to the birds, my dear.

Their crys both sharp and high.



Your footsteps faded in the light, my heart.

As night gave way to day.

I will listen for your footsteps, my love.

'Though you've gone far away.




Chorus:

My dearest love, My love is dear,

My heart is true to thee.

I will listen for your footsteps,

'Though you've gone far from me.




Kim B 2023



Friday, June 23, 2023

The Eye Does See by KimB



On my death, there shall be,

nothing more to hear or see.

The I that's Me, will not be;

The I that's You, is not there too.

It's in the I, the eye does see,

What we call You and Me.



KimB 2023



Monday, May 08, 2023

MrsB 1922-2023

[Editor's Post]

MrsB passed away on March 6, 2023.

She was a remarkable person, and remained active until shortly before her death, studying chess books, doing art projects, reading, watching her favorite baseball team: The Astros, and keeping up with current events.

She was the last of her immediate family and with her passing, the ending of an era that started with her parents lives in 1900 and continued well past a century later.

US History is cataloged by dates of wars: WW1, WW2, Korea, Vietnam but her life was dedicated to peace, tolerance, acceptance, equality and social justice. She was not afraid to stand up against what was wrong, and she was not afraid to stand up for what was right.

Her life spanned historic times:

  • When wood burning cook stoves meant chopping wood daily, to microwave ovens.
  • When ink wells and pen nibs and cursive writing were how letters were written, to electric typewriters, word processors, and when text messages became the method of our times.
  • When distance and costs meant travel and communications had limits, when making a long distance call was extraordinarily expensive and you placed your call through an real person operator, to zoom and video conferencing.
  • When people thought more of about each other and cared for strangers, a meal ready for anyone to join in, through times of great hunger and deprivation which stalked the USA during the Great Depression and watched its creeping reemergence.
  • When society determined your limits, based not on who you were but how you looked, to seeing the possibilities of better futures for everyone, to seeing social barriers lessened, but not eradicated.

She never stopped moving forward, making life better for everyone. Bringing joy where she could and comfort when joy was in short supply. She never stopped hoping for a future where everyone had enough, where there was place for everyone to call home. Where there was education available to anyone who wanted to learn more. Where our human potential could be expressed in its unlimited variations. Where tolerance was no longer needed because we accepted everyone no matter their race, creed, gender, or national origin.

Her legacy are the words and stories in this blog. They catalog not just her life but the lives of all the others who have written stories to share with us.

But her story does not end there.

We are now The Elders and it is our stories that continue the threads started so many years ago. It is our memories of her generation that remain to be told. It is the story of our own lives that remains to be shared. It is the funny times, the sad times, the happy times that are common to all of us. These are the stories that remain to be written.

And so shall the be.


Marion A Bigelow June 15 1922 - March 6 2023
Marion A Bigelow
June 15 1922 - March 6 2023



Wednesday, February 15, 2023

The Cat Box by KimB



The Cat Box
Humans are funny things,
They always try to make things clean.
We get into trouble,
On the double,
When the pan we seek,
between our cheeks.
With notable flaws,
We scrape and paw,
And do our best,
to make a mess.
With broom and pan,
Humans ruin our plans,
For the sand to reach,
the size of a beach.


Kim Bigelow 2023



Sunday, January 29, 2023

An Atom's Width by KimB



An Atom's Width


A touch / A finger's breadth / A hand extened,
Waiting for response.


A distance / A far nearness / A closer closure,
An approaching conjunction.


A sensation / A cold warming / A thawing warmth,
The ebbing cool.


A scent / An aroma of earth / A waft of sky,
A bouquet of fragrace.


Such craving for touch.
Such desire for closeness.
Such yearning for warmth.
Such hunger for inbreath.


Kim Bigelow 2023



Thursday, January 05, 2023

12 Nights of Gratefulness Night 12 by MrsB, RCane, KimB

[Editor's Note]

During these 3 years of COVID19 and Global Difficulties, it is sometimes hard to remember that Good Things Still Happen.

We would like share some of our Good Things, spread along the 12 Nights of Christmas, that take us from Dec 25th: The First Night of Christmas to Jan 5th: The Twelfth Night.

We hope our joys, both the profound and the mundane, bring kindess and happiness to your lives.

Wishing all a happy, fun and safe holiday season.

MrsB, RCane, KimB


Night 12

MrsB:
That I always had a lot of friends
KimB:
I am thankful to my Mother for all the things she has done, not just for me but for others too. She shares the family stories and memories and knowledge. Most importantly, she spreads love like thick layers of marmalade on hot buttered toast, each bite a reminder of happy memories, family, friends, relatives and the countless people we encounter in life. Sweet memories, savory memories, sharp and spicey ones, smooth and soothing ones. Memories that "fight back" like peanut butter and the honeyed memories of hugs with all the family around. A banquet of happiness.



Wednesday, January 04, 2023

12 Nights of Gratefulness Night 11 by MrsB, RCane, KimB

[Editor's Note]

During these 3 years of COVID19 and Global Difficulties, it is sometimes hard to remember that Good Things Still Happen.

We would like share some of our Good Things, spread along the 12 Nights of Christmas, that take us from Dec 25th: The First Night of Christmas to Jan 5th: The Twelfth Night.

We hope our joys, both the profound and the mundane, bring kindess and happiness to your lives.

Wishing all a happy, fun and safe holiday season.

MrsB, RCane, KimB


Night 11

RCane:
Such a wonderful family - able to spend quality time with mom in constant touch with sis.
KimB:
I am thankful for my DirtPile. It is the "crazy business" in my life. It provides a basis for Maybe-Perhaps-Someday dreams. We all need dreams. We all need an anchor, a line, a ship, taking us to something Impossible but full of May Be. Things that May Be are still undetermined, still open to change, still malliable. My DirtPile provides me with the courage to be all of them.



Tuesday, January 03, 2023

12 Nights of Gratefulness Night 10 by MrsB, RCane, KimB

[Editor's Note]

During these 3 years of COVID19 and Global Difficulties, it is sometimes hard to remember that Good Things Still Happen.

We would like share some of our Good Things, spread along the 12 Nights of Christmas, that take us from Dec 25th: The First Night of Christmas to Jan 5th: The Twelfth Night.

We hope our joys, both the profound and the mundane, bring kindess and happiness to your lives.

Wishing all a happy, fun and safe holiday season.

MrsB, RCane, KimB


Night 10

MrsB:
I had the chance to travel a lot in both the US and in France & Italy.
KimB:
I am thankful for the people that hosted an All Are Welcome Weekly Dinner. The hot food was delicious and the chance to socialize was even better. The many tables were set nicely and a sit down dinner provided. Meeting other people at the tables each week, learning their stories and swapping information of services and programs. The dinner also hosted a Take It All table with fresh vegetables, fruits, snacks and grocery items, filling a dietary place that canned items cannot.



Monday, January 02, 2023

12 Nights of Gratefulness Night 9 by MrsB, RCane, KimB

[Editor's Note]

During these 3 years of COVID19 and Global Difficulties, it is sometimes hard to remember that Good Things Still Happen.

We would like share some of our Good Things, spread along the 12 Nights of Christmas, that take us from Dec 25th: The First Night of Christmas to Jan 5th: The Twelfth Night.

We hope our joys, both the profound and the mundane, bring kindess and happiness to your lives.

Wishing all a happy, fun and safe holiday season.

MrsB, RCane, KimB


Night 9

MrsB:
My children are loving and take interest in my life
KimB:
I am thankful for my friend T and her family, who all share a passion for horses. She keeps me abreast of the latest information from the barns and the horseshows and how our horse-friends are doing. Sometimes I go with her to the barn to help feed the horses. Horses crunching their hay or rattling their grain buckets are like music for my heart.



Sunday, January 01, 2023

12 Nights of Gratefulness Night 8 by MrsB, RCane, KimB

[Editor's Note]

During these 3 years of COVID19 and Global Difficulties, it is sometimes hard to remember that Good Things Still Happen.

We would like share some of our Good Things, spread along the 12 Nights of Christmas, that take us from Dec 25th: The First Night of Christmas to Jan 5th: The Twelfth Night.

We hope our joys, both the profound and the mundane, bring kindess and happiness to your lives.

Wishing all a happy, fun and safe holiday season.

MrsB, RCane, KimB


Night 8

RCane:
generally good health and not seeing my obit in the mornings .. lol .. whilst losing folks I know every day .. (time marches on eh? .. sigh ) incredibly I am reaching 77 years of age ..in January!
KimB:
I am thankful for my 3 cats: Othello, Lucky and Bette.

Othello is my alarm clock, he reminds me to get up and FEED ME-NOW!. Othello enjoys his naps on his human pillow, stretching out on my legs.

Bette saves her affection for when I nap or bedtime. At once, she is on the bed and showering me with head bumps and demands for cuddles. She is fond of snuggling under my arm with purrs of happiness.

Lucky, has been an active companion. He follows me around, he sits next to me and watches what I do. He is curious about every thing. He likes to take my pen away when I write, as if saying: ENOUGH of THAT! He makes me laugh as he bounds around the house and when he curls up on the bed with his super long tail wrapped around him.



Saturday, December 31, 2022

12 Nights of Gratefulness Night 7 by MrsB, RCane, KimB

[Editor's Note]

During these 3 years of COVID19 and Global Difficulties, it is sometimes hard to remember that Good Things Still Happen.

We would like share some of our Good Things, spread along the 12 Nights of Christmas, that take us from Dec 25th: The First Night of Christmas to Jan 5th: The Twelfth Night.

We hope our joys, both the profound and the mundane, bring kindess and happiness to your lives.

Wishing all a happy, fun and safe holiday season.

MrsB, RCane, KimB


Night 7

MrsB:
Thankful for TV. So I can keep up with politiics and current news and also so I can watch baseball games on the TV
KimB:
I am thankful for my friend A. We have been friends with for a long time. She has been in similar emotional circumstances and provides wonderous and direct insights. She is compassionate and caring. Her outlook and experience shine as a beacon for me. She knows the drill and can open the door for me to see what's possible and what's important. They are not the same. She provides her knowledge freely to help me navigate the rougher parts of the future: helping me Find A Path that works for me.



Friday, December 30, 2022

12 Nights of Gratefulness Night 6 by MrsB, RCane, KimB

[Editor's Note]

During these 3 years of COVID19 and Global Difficulties, it is sometimes hard to remember that Good Things Still Happen.

We would like share some of our Good Things, spread along the 12 Nights of Christmas, that take us from Dec 25th: The First Night of Christmas to Jan 5th: The Twelfth Night.

We hope our joys, both the profound and the mundane, bring kindess and happiness to your lives.

Wishing all a happy, fun and safe holiday season.

MrsB, RCane, KimB


Night 6

MrsB:
Very Very Thank for my two children, a girl and a boy
KimB:
I am thankful for the Pet Food Pantry, that provides a monthly distribution of pet food, which allows me to maintain my 3 cats: Othello, Lucky and Bette. The volunteers that lug the bags of dry food and cases of canned food for the hundreds of people now able to keep their pets with them.