Monday, December 22, 2008

Am I Lunch?

A friend and I had finally gotten together for lunch and caught up on the prior year's events. As I grabbed my doggie bag and walked toward the restaurant door, I suggested we go together to the garage below where I was parked, then I'd drive him to his car.

When we arrived at my Trooper, I opened the rear door where Alex, my patient yellow Lab, awaited me. To my friend's shock, I said to Alex, "Look, honey, I brought you lunch!"

My friend thought I meant him.

copyright © 2008 by Auntie Eartha. All rights reserved.

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Thursday, December 18, 2008

Death to Deer

I am pissed. Profoundly upset. This may not be a typical Auntie Eartha column, but it must be said.

Some limp, cowardly weakling is out there killing our deer with arrows in a populated neighborhood: Tuesday it was a large buck. These are deer you can pet (see me above). They roam our streets and yards, graze on our plants, mount our does. They upset us, because they try to mate with yearlings.

Some of us get perturbed because they eat vegetation we wish they wouldn’t and poop on every square yard of our grass. But dear God, is someone so lame and stupid that he reaches out and kills a dog or something he can rub, like his wife, his child, his pet, or a tame deer?! What is happening to our neighborhood? Break-ins, heroin, Mexican national drug distributors, meth. Who are the mentally disturbed morons living in my area?!? Let’s get them out!!

The demeanor of most of our bucks, does, and their children is placid, even the injured one shown here. Recently a young human driving inattentively and too fast on Parkview Boulevard severely injured one of our babies—its back legs were useless once the young driver in his Volvo hit the young one. A Colorado Springs police office came two hours after it had suffered and shot it twice to ensure it (the baby, not the young driver) was thoroughly dead, since the Volvo’s driver didn’t finish his own kill.

As I write this I want to go door to door and find the limp-membered idiot who thought he would make the world a better place by wounding a buck with his poorly aimed arrows till the buck suffered his death. Someone should do the same to this pitiful menace. Place an arrow strategically through his small part and later assess his situation, maybe stoke the fire…a very small fire.

When this slaughterer gets caught, and they always do, if we had the tax dollars and legal permission, we should send the cretin to Siberia to live on his “skill” to survive. But since it is so easy to call a deer into your presence around here, my prayer is that the bad guy lives a long, useless life starving…which he probably already is…mentally.

copyright © 2008 by Auntie Eartha. All rights reserved.

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Thursday, December 4, 2008

What Sets You Free?

Boy, it’s been so long since I’ve felt free that I can’t easily remember what would set me free.

Ultimately…death.

Being with friends, saying what’s on your mind, not what they want to hear.

The freedom to feel and express without the fear of ridicule.

To say what’s on your mind without judgment.

To not feel obligated to say, “I love you.”
To remember a number from long ago and not be criticized for knowing something so trivial.

To unravel a truth so simple in life, and not be found stupid.

To make a mistake or say the wrong word, and find a smile or giggle rather than harsh words.

To talk with a friend and really be there without a criticizing ear, whose voice will fault every word and replace hatred with the love you had felt.

To write, without fear, your truths being found,
to share the depths of your heart.
To read with delight the words you enjoy,
to sing every song from the start.

To trust the voice that speaks so clear,
envelop yourself in another.
Take someone’s hand while you look in his eyes.
Freedom is what you’ll discover.

“What sets you free?”
Morning’s here, a sun-filled day,
your body’s firm, able, refreshed.
The cool breeze, birds, and mountains beyond
lead you to new elevations
of thought
and awareness.

Your spirit is pulled,
invisible attraction,
something’s waiting
for you to know.

Inside the eagle
envelops your being…
views like never before.
Your eyes see detail…
some of life’s answers
are open to you now.
Hold them, taste them,
captured in time.
Remember how they feel.
Now close your eyes
in darkness’s arms
Be held in what is real.

Roll in awareness,
savor simplicity,
life so complex
isn’t forever.

Invisible thread binds
(the) greatest of things,
beauty, strength appear.
Light and dark reach depths
never felt,
there’s no such thing as fear.
—July 8, 1991

(Puzzle piece number 29 of 38.)

copyright © 2008 by Auntie Eartha. All rights reserved.

If you like it, link it!
http://auntieeartha.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-sets-you-free.html

Me

What do you see when you look at me?
A cheerful, loving face?
Maybe you take another stand,
and I’m a hateful, sick disgrace.
But some who try a little harder
get a deeper view …
They see that love was once inside
until I fell for you.
They see a being more complex
than you ever thought of me.
That’s why you don’t understand the girl —
you simply just don’t see.
—June 25, 1991

(Puzzle piece number 28 of 38.)

copyright © 2008 by Auntie Eartha. All rights reserved.

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Tuesday, December 2, 2008

KittenSpeak

I have a friend who has rescued many basset hounds—those floppy, droppy, slow-moving, tail-wagging Hush Puppies dogs. It’s hard to believe, but these canines were bred to hunt rabbits—their sense of smell second only to that of the bloodhound, according to Wikipedia.* But can you imagine a basset chasing a rabbit?

“Spike, fetch that bunny!” you say, and off runs the basset. Two lopes and the overgrown wiener dog has tripped over his ears, somersaulted, and is lying in a puddle of himself.

Hunting was never very big to Joanne, so she just thanked the dogs to dust her hardwood floors with their ears.

One day while living in upstate New York, she went to a feed store to buy dog food. While there, my dear friend had a mental hiccup and came home with a kitten and all the feline accoutrements. I was amazed at the news; had she just forgotten the dog food? But with each conversation as months rolled on, her joy with Kate the cat grew. Between the two of us, stories of our critters abounded.

One day she came home exhausted after another day at the bank and was sitting next to her large, wood desk talking on the phone with a friend. Simultaneously she viewed her sticky-note reminders. She’s the type who has more stickies clinging to her fridge, desk, and bathroom mirror than a hippie has bumper stickers on his VW van. With each new “to do,” thought, or need from the store, she’d post another sticky note: Wack weeds. Get out of banking. Call Jim. Go to the bathroom. Find a decent and reasonable Christian man.

As Joanne leaned back in her chair conversing, Kate the cat jumped up on the desk for a stroke of attention. With raised tail and a swing of her fanny, Kate displayed a sticky note she apparently had sat on that read: Buy cat food and litter.
copyright © 2008 by Auntie Eartha. All rights reserved.

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http://auntieeartha.blogspot.com/2008/12/kittenspeak.html

* Please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basset_hound photographs, particularly the third one. Tell me what you see.