Pharewell Phoebe the Phairy Princess

She was a funny little quirky thing. There are things I will never forget -- how she "chose" me, how she claimed the soft spots in my lap for her resting places, how she climbed up behind my neck when we drove alone somewhere, how she ran full out to visit the neighbors, throwing her legs out in all directions and yet managing to cover the ground in front of her.

She was afraid of everything and nothing - she charged full out at any intruder and with great bluff and bluster tried to frighten them away from her family and yard. And her family was whomever she was with on any given day.





She was crazy - everyone said so - She wouldn't chase the squirrels or wildlife but tried to run down golf carts and big people. She would go outside and find a sunny place in the yard and stretch and roll and lie there soaking the sun into her black fur, then come back to my chair and beg to be picked up and held for hours on end.

She waited patiently to be lifted into bed at night and snuggled with her feet on my back and pushed herself up close to Mike to dream. She licked her paws, the porch, the driveway, my face, incessantly. She finally let Dean and Pat pick her up in her later years, deciding after nearly 8 years that they probably were friendly, not foe. She would tolerate Dean's lap if he held a treat in his hands, knowing that once he'd fed her, she could hop down and return to the safe lap.

She was quite a queen and after 4+ months, we still look for her when we come home from shopping trips. I still expect her to run out the back door into the garage when I arrive home, crying and gasping about how long I've been away - racing up and down the hallway as I carry in my luggage and change clothes, yelping her dismay at the length of time she must be patient.

Pharewell Phoebe - you have ruined us all for wanting another pet to love. None could replace you.

Another Happy New Year

I was standing at the sink this morning, washing the morning dishes, preparing to soak the blackeyed peas. I thought back to the first New Year that Mike and I rang in together. It was an engagement party, December 31, 1969. We weren't really together, then. Well, Mike didn't know we were, anyway. I decided that night that I never wanted to spend another New Year's without him.

This is our 38th New Year's Eve together. We were intending to go to a party tonight, something we have not done in several years, preferring to have the neighbors over and celebrate quietly at home. We were both looking forward to this one, at a friend's house overlooking the lake with incredible views of the various community fireworks that happen all around the lake. But two days ago, Mike's back "went out" on him and yesterday he had to give up and accept that this one would require some pharmaceutical assistance and this morning it is still tender enough that we have decided to stay home together and watch the Times Square Celebration and have our traditional midnight blackeyed pea dinner.

Somehow it doesn't really matter. I will miss playing games and laughing with my friends and celebrating the dawn of another year. But I am grateful that my consolation prize is another evening at home with the couch potato of my dreams. And I am feeling truly blessed that we still find each other funny and can still stir each other like young lovers. Oh and don't "Ewwww", girls, I'm not talking about that. I am talking about how we can still surprise each other, still look into each other's eyes and feel that sudden intake of breath, still see the sweet young things we were 38 years ago through our aging, clouded vision.

I am grateful that for 38 years, I have been given the gift of spending December 31st with my best friend, the person who knows everything about me and is still willing to be with me. I am grateful that we can sit up late, fall asleep in our chairs before the tv and laugh because we both snored through all the excitement. I am grateful for the constancy, consideration, concern that we share for each other. And I am especially and forever grateful to Doris for being willing to invite an almost stranger to her engagement party for me all those 38 years ago. See, Doris? I told you.

I Sat Among the Spring

I sat among the Spring today
Cool and crisp - electric
My crisscross view delighting
In Nature's tweedy blanket.

For dutch irises and daffodils
Have taken their final bow
And stepped offstage to grant
Spotlight to new arrivals.

Wild flowers have cast aside
Their modest robes to sparkle
In nature's brilliant lights
Their dewy heads glistening

I never really cared for green
That is, until I felt
The many varied shades
That Springtime casts about.

I sat among the Spring today
And let the Spirit rise
And knew the thrill of Joy's rebirth
Of Hope refilled anew.

Spring Surprise

Listen to the crystal patterings
A world of silence interrupted
Only by the whisperings of icy
Tapping on frozen blades.


Everywhere the blooms of Spring
Have set their vibrant heads
Sunward, stretching in joyous
Celebration of the rebirth.

But crafty Winter has one more
Trick tucked neatly in its sleeves.
And shakes its sparking white
Lacy blanket to cover tender shoots.




Though I would, I cannot mourn
This last hurrah of aging season.
The beauty of its silent fall
Commands my heart to hear.




And with my eyes to view
The wonder of a late snowfall
Adorning Spring's delights and
Urging peace in heart and soul.

JOY AND JOY AND JOY

Do you know what Joy is? I do.
It is the weaving entertwined
Iterated patterns of Nature's colors
And Textures in all her variations.


Joy is a raven-haired, sapphire-eyed
Creamy skinned, timid beauty.
Standing on the edge of space
Eyeing all - missing none- total absorption.







Joy is a halo haired, golden skinned
Miniature magpie - Eyes of caribbean sky and sea,
Chattering and hopping, verbal and curious,
Touching, twirling, twittering and dancing.










Joy is a fiery-haired, porcelain faced
Steady, eager witness with eyes that hold
The depths of mountain lakes and
Lips of luscious plum - a vessel of Love.






I know these Joys - for they invade
My heart, and make it swell to bursting
They make me long to gather them in
And hold the world within my grasp.

Chartreuse and Shadows

Lilting lilac laughs and peppers down
Her golden morsels, feeding upturned faces,
Fresh and frothy, Peeking through the
Melting mists of nature’s chilly robe.

Morning shadows shiver and slide
Beneath the mossy mirth,
As chartreuse shines and shimmers,
Kissing the golden droplets.

Delicious, dancing pulses beat
To move my slippered toes
And tread among the mist-kissed
Chutes unfurling to nature’s song.

Ah, no, a dream, perhaps a promise,
That wakens in the dark as Midnight’s
Chilly curtain draws itself away, revealing
Icy fingers to clutch another day.

JB 01/28/07

IT AIN'T OVER TILL THE FAT LADY SINGS

Thirty six years on Monday - that means the old man and I have known each other a bit over 37 years. There are few who have known or cared for me any longer. I am always a bit sentimental this time of year and cannot resist looking backwards at the trail of life behind me.

My mind is flooded with memories and the images are of skinnier days and laughing girls and my wonderful Hero Honey who wrapped my life and limbs in his. I love this man and am grateful and consider myself lucky that God let me blindly stumble into that relationship.

The first time he remembers seeing me was at TCU. He was visiting a mutual friend and I was bounding across a field between the Music Building and my dorm, racing to tell the mutual friend the news about the choir list and who didn't make it. He thought I was a funny little thing, racing across campus and hollering about something nonsensical. But he actually saw me 3 months earlier, when our eyes met, I felt a jolt, and I knew he was going to be mine.

It is funny how I knew that and it stayed with me. Though he will tell you I did, I did NOT ask him to marry me. I didn't have to coerce him. He fell for me too, but I think it was not until he heard me sing that he lost his independence, in March the following spring. He says he sat there and couldn't believe that sound came from that little girl and he was sold.

I know you know this history, you who have known and shared all my inner thoughts. But I keep coming back to this thread that runs through my life. The enchantment of finding someone with whom you can laugh, and scream, love and hate, and still stay tethered by that magical bond that reasserts and reinvents itself, stronger each time, still amazes me. We have the most incredible ability to talk and study and together manage to comprehend the changes that life presents - our babies, their childhood, teenagers, young women, young mothers, his retirement, my insanity, and of course the electronic age!

Too, I have decided that what really exists between us is not magic but our mutual determination that what we have is worth repeating, and saving, and recommitting on a regular basis. It is not hard to stay together - the magic reasserts itself periodically because we want to have magic. It is a stronger drug than any we could ingest or smoke or guzzle. There is no feeling like reaching this height of the mountain and realizing that you have a partner who knows when and where you are going to stumble and is willing to push-pull you up the path.

I love you, Mikey, in all that that encompasses. That word is all I can say and it is NEVER enough.