Billy-Jinx

 

Billy-Jinx!

 

 

Shadow-grey feline with 9-lives; 14 years old!

 

Ole Billy came to us as a kitten; rescued from a "bad" area.

Our little girls, very young then, Lauren, 3, Lexi and Annie, 1,

decided that he be tagged "Billy-Jinx". We agreed.

 

Yeah! I do spoil my progeny---every chance I get...daily!

 

Ole Billy made several moves with his adopted family;

"good" company for lots of years; never caused any trouble.

 

"Independent"? To be sure. Made him more adorable!

 

 I cherish that trait---animal or human...the Independent-Individual!

 

Billy's not doing very well; too hot a summer and he's ill.

 

We'll make Billy as comfortable as possible; he likes to be brushed.
So sorry about your feline-friend, Nanny! He's a good-cat!

 

Good memories! Good friend! Lot's of good times!

 

Thanks for your time with us---we'll miss you...Mon Amie!

 

Storms tonight; he never did like "rough" weather.

 



Horses! Mon Amie!

 

Horses!---“Royal”-creatures!

 

I’ve ridden some mighty-fine horses in my time-through-space.

Love the equine “noble”-beast---akin to them?…I (maybe) think!

In this fantasy-mind---I soar the abyss…on a silver winged-Unicorn!

Our girls ride-expert---could ride the “wind”…if I figure out how to saddle it!

All I know: push the ears forward---Go! Pull them back…Stop! Simple!?

2 of the best aromas: the leather tack-room & horse-“perfume” on a cold day!

Actually witnessed several born; love to watch foals wild free-frolic!

What an absolutely Great life! How awesome to be “in-Love”!

 

Amen!



Ah! Love!

 

Love!-enigma!?

 

 

Where might Love emanate?---From…giving it away! (Often & always)!

 

The riddle?---The more you give away…the more you have to give!

 

Amen!



Money-comes & money-goes---and...Life is GREAT!

Convertibles & Train-rides!?

 

 

For Lovely-Lady Candice Leah’s 40^th birthday celebration May 8,

I gave her a brand new shiny Rio-red Mustang GT convertible

with a white top---two-months and one–day later, July 9, Becky

turned 16 and Candy gave that sporty-chariot to her…that is the

sacred-worthy family in which I find deep pride. Thank you! All!

 

And---

 

I purchased a civil-engineering degree for daughter Rachel Rebecca,

even bought her one of them there “train-driver” caps being thin blue

and white stripes…I’m still waiting for a train-ride!? Hmm!?

 

Got a $150-thousand Law-degree along the way, too, for barrister-

daughter Catherine Elizabeth…what I got for that: threatened incarceration!?

 

Also…

 

In total---on the fancy sports-car debacle…I have invested somewhere

around the $200k-mark on several and…I still don’t have one for myself!?

 

Ah! When I was 4 I believed in Santa Claus!

At 8 the big kids allowed “No Santa Claus”!

18 found me wishing for a real Santa Claus!

From 20-on with kids? I am: Santa Claus!

 

Wouldn’t have it any other way!

 

Amen!



Remembering my soldier-"friend"---lost!

Memorial Day! Honor-salute!

 

“Back-in-the-day” as modern-youth politely refers to the “oldsters” among us (Sure enough Reckon that includes a septuagenarian like me---71!) we made our own entertainment with creative-juices and wild-imagination; the real-world provided enough “adult”-decisions for all.

Playing ball filled many an otherwise vacant hour; great fun, too; honed skills and coordination. Seems there was “no” money way back then; everybody was “poor” save a few pre-modern self-proclaimed “Royal-elite” types who “Put-on-the-dog”; nobody paid any more attention to such tripe as does the sacred Independent-Individuals of this “modern” era. Sure enough reckon it made the “losers” feel Good about their plight?

Reckon, sure enough, nothing changes! Now, they just have more committees and such!?

My friend “Bobby” and I played a lot of ball, growing up; two-full years my senior, chronologically, he liked my style and we became fast-friends. He even came to my evening ball games just to observe, warm me up between innings if the catcher was gearing-up and thoroughly review my game after-the-fact, pointing out the “should-of” and such of the event.

Bobbie taught me how to throw the old curve-ball when I was 12 admonishing me to use it sparingly. At least, until I was 16, so as to not injure my pitching arm in a permanent manner.

Oh! I threw that curve---but respecting my mentor’s advise…I used it most sparingly. Yeah!

The backstop at the high school and on our Khoury-League diamonds was often planted in red clover to prevent erosion and it did not require much maintenance. Best of all, that thick carpet caught myriad foul balls and “hid” them from recovery when spectators flew after them to return the errant foul to the umpire; like I said, money was at a premium and “everything” was saved.

Well! Sure enough, I reckon, we soon figured out that our diminished baseball supply (always short on equipment and balls) found “new-life” with next-day retrieval of clover-“lost’ foul balls.

We would use the spheres until we knocked the horsehide-cover off; then, one of the kid’s would raid his “Old-man’s” garage to “borrow” the roll of electric tape and we’d wind the slick, black-sticky ’round and ’round the “yarn”-core and use ’er some more; eventually, we’d get another one from the old “lost” foul-ball fairy! Hey! A poor kid has to “make-do”! We sure did!

Same thing with bats. By turning the label of the Louisville-slugger away from the pitcher, and by not swinging too hard---Why!...that thin handle would “crack”; tiny nails and more tape!

We all had fielder’s mits; Bobby even had a 1^st baseman’s mit. Wow! That was sure impressive. Our ‘sand-lot” teams never had catcher’s mits; way too expensive! Just---make-do!

Well! Time passed and Bobby went off to college; got a P.E. degree and a teaching job!

Then, the “adults” got involved! Hmph! Idiots! Some fat-ass politico-type took insult (real or perceived) from some world-“leader”!? Unable to “make-do” like real people, they started a war!

Yep! Took my dear-friend Bobby, put him in a uniform, taught him to close-order march, answer “everything” with a “Yes! Sir!” and a smart-salute, put a rifle in his hands---off he went!

Problem is, I reckon, sure enough---off Bobby went…never to return to play ball with me!

They sent a box home with a tale of “heroic-demise”---Hell!...He was “always” my Hero!

As an “adult” I have shed “few” tears---that day…they flowed, Unashamedly! Adios! Bobby!

Decades later, my wife and I were in an antique mall---about the 3^rd booth…Voila!

There sat a framed  8x10 sepia-tone Senior picture---of…Robert Franklin “Bobby” Holden!

With a few more of those coveted “adult”-tears, I bought that photo---now…I cherish it!

He & I still play ball, sometimes---in my fantasy-mind…Yeah! I am an incorrigible-dreamer

Not much I can do for Bobby---save, I write, a little…following is my tribute to my friend:

Heroes

(a memorial-salute to my friend: Bobby)

 

Too many names on a stone wall so black

Young brave soldiers won’t ever come back

 

Sacrificed lives vacate “ideals”-construction

Death chiseled in granite, horror’s-destruction

 

Those icicle fingers grope beyond wasted life-lost

Piercing mothers and lovers, their children with strife

 

A mistake we allowed, this venomous deed-dastardly

We pray haunts dead souls of politicos-bastardly

 

Forgive us, our heroes, the people we love

Help us with healing from His Power above

 

Innocent young people on a long wall-of-black

Souls of the children who can never come back

 

Alas! And, what of us now as we struggle anew?

These issues enormous strike terror right through

 

For logic-answers we search but simply can’t see

Profound-problem is us, our own worst-enemy

 

Grant us a life without further pernicious-sorrows

Peaceful-quiet rest like those fallen young-warriors

 

Leave them alone, steal no longer their youth

Don’t teach them to lie but rather sight-truth

 

Beyond the self-centered wanton with greed

Mankind does hunger to satiate good-need

 

Where are we now as onward we falter?

Far from Redemption, no spiritual altar

 

Too many names on a stone wall so black

Young brave soldiers can’t ever come back

Amen!

S-a-l-u-t-e! S/Sgt. Robert Franklin “Bobby” Holden! My friend!
(May 15, 1945 -May 7, 1968) Rest-in-Peace! Mon Amie!

Memorial Dat-salute!

 

Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats

(a song)

 

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

Taw-head boy’s hand in Dad’s viewed July 4^th parade yonder

Crowd-lined Main St. celebrates holiday Homecoming wonder

 

Flowered floats with pretty girls waving coquettishly

Uniformed bands precision-cadence march prophetic-ly

 

For father, brother, uncle, son a glisten-tear upon yon tender cheek

Surrendered all for National-Pride, forever tall, the country’s meek

 

In innocent vision clear, Dad’s salute to flag is formed

Emulates the adoring child as a tradition-love is borned

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

Studied hard, learned well: math, English, valued history

Contemplated natural life, challenged religious-mystery

 

We the people voted good men President numbers to forty-four

Office demanded, was freely granted, loyal respect and more

 

Of five worthy presidents loved Jefferson’s vocabulary

Save four, the rest deserved scrutiny by the constabulary

 

Virtue country leaders “Teddy”, JFK, Reagan and “Old Hickory”

Mere flawed men who cherished US first and most, I surely see

 

Kissed first love at twelve behind the shadowed bandstand

Returned his love, bore his child, no hypocritic grandstand

 

Donned the colors, off to war, faced honor-true responsibility

Served brave while honing sacred independent-individuality

 

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

Hot brick oven rushes close in verdant emerald jungle green

Idealist-young beret descends hellish red clay fire-fight scene

 

A hundred honor-challenged, of only three successes, one was he

Under white billowed canvas rifle clutched, chose a hero-man to be

 

Wonder if the patriotic beat drums loud proudly in his ears

Wonder if silver wings upon young chest quell his war-fears

 

Freedom flickers in bright eye betrays true pride he knows

Ideology unique! Special Forces-“In your face!” He chose

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

Years ahead in warm summer’s June-time Homecoming parade

A young child stands by parents honor-proud, no mock charade

 

His tender heart reverberates a pounding drumbeat calling song

Varied faces, same ole places, a decade born, wild-lived, soon gone

 

“Where was my honor-won parade?” Proud father-soldier sadly laments

Another time? Another place? Crisp salutes Old Glory! Humble relents

 

Soft tender touch upon broad shoulder from adoring lovely wife

Caressed away nightmare spirit-demons; shared lonely vacant strife

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

An old man totters as yesteryears soldiers smartly march past

Shaky hand salutes his proud flag! Wonders: How can it last?

 

Spectators stand urged by Traditions hard-won spark

Candle-comfort flame beckons sad world lost in dark

 

Declared sparkle in the elder clear blue orbs, intelligent

 Bridged river deep, challenged mountain high, significant

 

Reflections of such time-mirage suggest offered ambition

His parade is past to march in ’morrow’s famed Tradition

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

 Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

And, in that awesome-wondered life is found

Adventure-world discovery awaits un-bound

 

Dare satiate spirit hunger need in unabated courage wild

Wear “Cool”-mantle proud-displayed by “meek and mild”

 

On Liberty Hill, gold Freedom torch-flame flicker-beckons

Love me tender! Defend me true! Patriotic reason-reckons

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

 Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

Happy Birthday! America! Red, white and blue proud waves unfurled

Our home! Our love! Constitution-law upheld in sacred honor swirled

Found freedom bound sweet liberty; best of the best in this wide world!

 

Happy Birthday! America! Red, white and blue waves proud unfurled

Our home! Our love! Constitution-law upheld in sacred honor swirled

Found freedom bound sweet liberty; best of the best in this wide world!

 

Staccato-tempo pulses heart-chords true

Waves proud unfurled red, white and blue

From infant innocence grasped family cue

 Breathed tradition-liberty-freedom he drew

Soft “Patriotic-Cadenced Heartbeats” knew

 

 

 

Happy Birthday! America! Red, white and blue waves proud unfurled

Our home! Our love! Constitution-law upheld in sacred honor swirled

Found freedom bound sweet liberty; best of the best in this wide world!

 

Amen! To that! Amen! Again!

Happy Memorial Day! (Ah! Boats! Reckon I sure enough wish I had one!?))

 

 

 

 

Cap’n “Krazy”- Kyle!

(a sailing-fantasy  limerick-salute!)

 

 

Sailing! Sailing! In Kyle’s boat over the bounding Maine

Cap’n’s neighbor skiing on concrete? Carlos must be insane!

Me Lime-y accent said “Bring a couple of ‘oars’! We’re set!”

Cap’n “Krazy”-Kyle brought a Blonde! Redhead! And, a Brunette!

Think these gals might just “row” us all the way to Spain?

 

Starboard! Port! Bow! Stern! For’ard!  (Hmm! Nice-“aft”!)

 

Said he needed an anchor---invited me…”No! Thanks!-No-gills!”

 

Wishing Cap’n-Kyle smooth-sailing with a bevy

of color bikini-clad “mates”! Ship-Ahoy!-Mate-y!

 

And---me? At home…with 22-tubes of suntan lotion!?

(Well---they were “on-sale”…can’t pass up a bargain!? You just  never know!?)

 

 

Lovely-Lady Candice Leah admonished:

You better not look at those bikini-girls; you’ll go blind!

 

“Quick-wit!?” (Proving I’m a “half-wit, dim-wit, nit-wit”) and

covering one portal, I considered: Think I’ll risk one orb!

 

“Beach” me one of those---Red! White! & Blue!...I’m feeling: Patriotic!

 

Ah! “Lucky” Cap’n Kyle!

 

Yeah!---Actually…I am thinking about a boat (or,the appealing-benefits!)

 

Happy Memorial Day! (2018)



Happy Birthday! Anna Marie! (15-years!) Wow! (Blog-post 2 of 2)

 

Happy Birthday! Anna Marie!

(May 25, 2018)

 

Zorro-ride! Yahoo!

(an equine-love affair limerick)

 

 Blondie on an emerald mountain-meadow guitar-strumming

Yellow-bright dress cadence-flowing to sweet-voice humming

Affection value-virtue for a black-steed hero

I true-love thy 4-legged equine-beau Zorro

Grazing near-by steed adores his lovely-lady sunning

 

Amen!

 

Happy Birthday! My Annie Rie!

 

Annie comfort-dreaming in respite of a long-day

Counting white-diamond sparkle in mid-night play

 

Rides Zorro wild-wind! Flowing long blonde-curls flying

Easy-natural effort of equine and girl mutual-love relying

 

Such beauty-intelligence, talent and true-honest compassion

Worthy-of-spirit delights observers in whisper-wind passion

 

Behind twinkle-blue eyes races-to-win a sharp-clever wit

Two-steps ahead of any pack Annie Rie is always a hit

 

Sister Lauren! Cousin Lexi! Riah-boy! My life ambition

Faith! Family! Freedom! My worthy comfort-tradition

 

Ride thy fantasy-Unicorn steeds beyond the universe-space

Thy creative-mind fertile divines loving lace-filigree grace

 

I delight in silly banter often bordering completely inane

You always win---that’s okay…Reckon I’m really insane!?

 

If I be granted a sacred wish: Allow me a perfect Miss Annie Rie!

One of me precious 7-diamond jewels on me “gold” crown to see

 

Eons ago a little boy ambition-dreamed of a perfect-life come

Luck-of-the-draw! Can’t possibly improve on my progeny-sum

 

We love you with pride!---Darling…Anna Marie!

Happy 15^th Birthday! Love, Nanny & (simple/humble me)