Ode to Flannel Sheets

Oh, I hate to get up in the morning.

When outside it's dark and it’s storming.

Flannel sheets on my bed.

Think I’ll stay here instead.

Only coffee could make it transforming.

One kitty is curled up beside me.

Dawn, through the curtain I now see.

Flannel sheets to my chin.

Fitness class soon begins.

What I need is a dose of some energy.

Copyright Parrot Writes 2010

Then and Now

June 1995

We are just moving into our newly remodeled home. We stand in the middle of the open 600sq ft top floor and look out a wall of windows east to the Willamette River and beyond to Mt Hood.

The 1905, 1200 sq ft home now has new tile floors and counters, a fireplace that works, new plumbing and wiring, new walls, new windows, and a new exterior; it has a new life. My builder-creator-husband has taken the old home down to the studs and rebuilt it to today’s code, using some of the old wood so we can call it a remodel. It was worth living in an apartment for the last 9 months to wait for the birth of our new home.

We have moved Franklin the Fern, on his pedestal, into his 4 x 4 foot space in the northeast window. We look in wonder at the newspaper clippings and sewing patterns dated 1925 and 1933 that we uncovered in the lath and plaster walls when we were tearing them down. We chuckle at our cleverness for installing a drycleaner-style rotating clothes rack in our small master bedroom, to use an otherwise unusable space as a closet.

We buried our cat of 16 years, who died before our move, in the garden to be with us in spirit. We have been interviewed for “suitability” to adopt two kitties from a cat rescue shelter, and will be bringing them to their new home in the coming week.

Happy, wonderful times here.

January 2010

We are in our next- to- last home, 35 miles away from the city of Portland, in rural Oregon. My builder-creator-husband took 6 months, this time, to turn the house we bought into our home. We have been here almost 7 years, different from our previous 20 years of moving every 3 years. My husband’s profession as a builder kept us continuing to build something new and move

We look at horses, fields, and farmland now, instead of the river, but we can still see Mt Hood from the top floor.

We moved Franklin the Fern, now 33 years old, on his pedestal, to his current 6 x 6 ft space with window on either side of him. He is now 7 feet tall, and I have to stand on a step-stool to water him. Our kitties from the shelter are still with us, 15 and 16 years-old, and happy here.

Nomadic living kept my storage areas relatively clear. They are now becoming full.

Happy, wonderful times here.


Copyright Parrot-Writes 2010

Franklin the Fern

We share our home with a 33 year old fern named Franklin. He is a Roosevelt fern, thus the name. Franklin has been a part of our family since 1986 when we became his caregivers at one of our home purchases. He was just a youngster then, only 10. Since then he has made six moves with us and has grown to cover a space in our current home of 6x6x7, yes that’s feet.

He currently sits proudly on a 4 foot tall pedestal, as he well deserves, in a 30” plastic pot in the corner of our great room. He’s a happy camper with windows on both sides. We have transplanted him to a bigger container 3 times over the years and I think we may have reached the limit of available pot sizes. Is dividing in his future?

The instructions that came with him said to water him once a week to the mark on the green watering can that accompanied him, and to fertilize monthly in all but the winter months. It also said he liked misting frequently. We have religiously followed the instructions and still use the same green watering can, along with a step stool, as his top is 7 feet above the floor.

I give him haircuts about every four months. This entails climbing under his canopy, shaking the fronds a bit, clipping ones that touch the floor or have died, then sweeping up the cuttings before vacuuming. It also entails a lot of sneezing. Our two cats usually get involved in this activity too. They seem to think I’m creating a kitty fun house with all the cuttings on the floor. They jump in and chase the cuttings around the room.

Franklin is truly a part of our family. He requires living in a room with the most action. In one house move we put him in a family room that wasn’t used much and he withered away to bare fronds. Moving him to the living room and giving him a lot of TLC brought him back. We learned our lesson - he needs to be where he can be a part of the family.

Our two cats have spent countless hours chasing and batting at spent pieces of his long fronds. Our grandchildren have been cautioned to not venture under his canopy because we fear in his old age he may not be able to withstand their frolicking. He gets decorated for Christmas with golden garlands and twinkling mini lights – a second Christmas tree of sorts. There is no jealously, just sharing the holiday moments with family.

We have one more move to make whenever we decide to downsize. Franklin will make that move with us to another special place in our next home.

In the picture you will see the author, in one of her favorite poses (with wine glass in hand), and the two kitties, Bella and Maya on their cushions keeping me company.

Copyright Parrot Writes 2010

Flash 55 1/22/10

I got called to Jury Duty recently. Here is my summary of the experience in 55 words.

Responsibility, Call In, Come In, Raining, 0845, Hurry, Sign In, Badge On, Waiting, Cough, Newspaper, Chatting, Well-Dressed, Overalls, Black-Net Stockings, Cowboy Boots, Book, Sneezing, Waiting, Move To Courtroom, Sit On Left, Roll Call, Swear In, Judge Here, All Rise, Defendant Here, Judge Leaves, Attorney Too, Waiting, Yawning, Judge Back, Plea Bargain, No Trial, Dismissed, 1015.

Cold Feet

I started my Children’s Writing class today, and after the first lesson, began to question my rationale for taking the class. Yes, I have a goal to write a Children’s book on virtues for my grandkids (not a preaching kind – a story that illustrates the meaning of the word). But somehow, today, I got lost in wishy-washy.

So, I spent most of the afternoon at the library in the children’s section wandering the shelves, sometimes crawling on my hands and knees, and sometimes sitting on the floor, to read a bit from any book that caught my attention. It was comforting to see the books I devoured in my youth: Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, Sue Barton Student Nurse, to mention a few. "The Black Stallion" leapt out at me, and I couldn’t help picking up an illustrated Grimm’s Fairy Tale book, and perusing a few of the classic stories.

I reread “Make Way for Ducklings”, and then spotted “The Secret Garden”. I had never read this "must read" book, so I sat down on one of the bitty children’s chairs to skim it, and an hour later was still reading it.

Suddenly the room was full of toddlers and moms for Story-Time. I relinquished my chair and stood in the back to watch. There was noise, chaos, and much shuffling until the librarian began to read. Most of the kids quieted down to listen. I watched their faces as they became involved with the story, and I was reminded of why I wanted to write my children’s story. I want to create the look and generate the interest I saw in their eyes. My afternoon at the library was a success. I’m back on track now, to make the most of the next six weeks of my class.

Copyright Parrot Writes 2010

Ouija Poetry

We were challenged to try a writing exercise called “ouiji poetry", where you close your eyes and type, letting your fingers fall where they may on the keyboard. You hit the space bar and the enter bar, along with the keys, then open your eyes to see what you have to work with. The challenge is to make a poem out of the letters and symbols that have appeared on the screen. Here is my first go at it:

Keekktoohr ou oof heaa
Hooo srae ;;ejthhhsmng
So wit hooeht
Jjepthh
Aprtjjpawermog


Kicking at the roof of my heart,
You stare with edgy messaging.
So taken with yourself.
Just jesting perhaps.
Apparently the joke is on me.

Copyright Parrot Writes 2010

Writing Prompt - Have you ever thrown something away and later realized it was a mistake?

I threw away my confidence, not once, but on a number of occasions. I let someone else convince me I was wrong, or didn’t have enough information to make the decision I was about to make. It was all about posturing, and to some degree intimidation. After all, I was female, and too compassionate, too easy, too old-fashioned, too unwilling to change for some. The decisions being made were monumental for the people who would have to carry them out.

There were meetings to discuss the issues, the options, and the outcomes. The group was divided in their support. Some were angry or hostile; some were supportive and helpful; some were tight-lipped and unwilling to take a stand. I threw away my confidence, and withdrew.

If I had taken the time to look at the past, there were decisions of this magnitude that I facilitated well. My confidence had been there and intact. This time, I threw away my confidence, and perhaps let some very good people down.