This year has been one of hit after hit. Our country has been fractured by political divisiveness, racial tensions, public protests, and violence. I suppose that all that has been present for many years and has been simmering under a fragile veneer of civility. Yesterday’s election was a turning point.
Cast my ballot I dare not
Look to see results
The outcome I care not
To know what insults
Scientific minds know
The experiment designs
Will either show
Success or failure
In the grand scheme
Of democratic rule a
Or nightmare wakes
When common values peak
Or subside to chaos in
What the elected seek
To promote for us
Quick like a bunny
Sprint across the green
Looking for a treasure
The log book pristine
Making the first to find
I do a victory dance
Hide the cache for others
And to another one I prance
Faster than a rabbit
Another first to find
Sign the log with glee
Leave my name behind
So here is another prompt in the MMPP prompts by Kim Hawke – Poem us your favorite hobby or passion.
As you might know I love to geocache. It is a great way to go places and see things off the beaten path. I’ve talked about some of the phrases we used when the boys were young and “quick like a bunny” is one of them. It seemed only appropriate when we first started caching and a new cache published that we would employ that same phrase as we hustled out the door hoping to be the First To Find (FTF). With several thousand finds under our belts we no longer feel the need to kill ourselves to rush for a FTF. If we get lucky enough to be FTF then we celebrate but we are not dashing off while supper gets cold or skipping appointments!!
This last fall Sparky and I went apple picking. We traveled into Michigan to the Tree-Mendous fruit farm. That is the only place we have found that grows Mutsu apples in these parts. Not only do we get Mutsu but also Cortland, Empire and a slew of other lesser known varieties of apples. The result is that son#1 is an apple snob. From an early age he has had a discerning palate when it comes to apples. He won’t eat a Red Delicious apple unless someone has a gun to his head. He loves a good Empire, Jazz or Pink Lady apple but his all time favorite is the Mutsu. We picked a half bushel for him and he managed to eat them all within 3 weeks – an apple a day. And they were big apples! At the time we were picking there were very few people around. We thought it was due to going in the middle of the week but found out that it was mostly due to fear. You see the owner/manager of the orchard was hospitalized with Eastern Equine Encephalitis and it was uncertain if he was going to make it. People were afraid they would be exposed picking the apples. We picked lots of apples and even giving son#1 his cut left us with a lot more than I could use in a couple of weeks. Having done this before I set to sorting and storing the apples.
1. Use only perfect apples and sort from largest to smallest.
2. Wrap each apple individually in newspaper.
3. Place the apples in a box or basket (we use a milk crate) putting the smallest on the bottom.
4. Store the box in a cool basement, garage, fruit cellar or refrigerator. Apples will freeze if the temperature dips below 30°; and will ripen quickly, if the temperature goes above 40°.
That said I’ve had wonderful apples for pies at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now that we’ve moved into February my supply is dwindling. The newspaper announced that due to the age of the owner and his health, coupled with no one to carry on the business, Tree-Mendous had closed permanently Dec. 31, 2019. It was news that was a huge blow to our family traditions. I am savoring these last late apples.
Apples just ripe and warm from the sun
Crisp and crunchy with lingering tang
September glow a blush on each one
Their flavor and texture virtues I sang
To a February apple they can’t compare
Cocooned in paper and kept cool
Treasured and hoarded, I reluctantly share
In tarts and pies and apple fool
Peel changes from thick to thin
Green-yellow to a translucent gold
From smooth to soft wrinkled skin
A fresh faced girl to a beauty old
These apples of snow and dark
Are not for eating out of hand
A contrast to cold winters stark
They speak of sky and summers grand
When ice and blizzard snow is spun
With the golden orb my tongue enthralled
Releasing my memories of sun
In pan or skillet life’s sweetness recalled
I never liked opening my eyes under water. Mostly it was the sting of the chlorine that kept my eyelids clamped shut. The few times I did open them under water, everything was blurry and had a distortion that confused me. Here I sit typing away at the computer. I have to concede that everything appears to be underwater. It is that same wavy focus imbued with uncertainty and hesitation. But it isn’t caused by eyestrain or not wearing my glasses. It is an astigmatism of my heart and mind caused by the chaos I’m viewing… And to put my mother at ease, I am not having any crisis in my marriage. This is simply a result of not being able to write about what is really bothering me at work. Pretend this is not the rejection of a lover and instead use your imagination.
The world as seen through wavy glass
Or is it water streaming from my eyes
Distorting joy and hope and summers past
When surprise announces love’s demise
The shock that radiates from the soul
A sudden gasp and tearful cry
When the world crushes every goal
And shows all the tokens and words a lie
Tears bitter and salty wash my face
Cleans my mind and scrubs my heart
Removes doubts and love’s last trace
I’m made pure for life’s new start