IVORY SOAP

Memories come to surface, when allowed.

As a child, I wondered why the Ivory Soap invariably
would float in water. Ivory Soap, first came to the market
in 1879, claiming to be so pure (99.44% pure) that it
would float.

No matter how long I would hold it down . . . it still
would bob to the surface!

As a young person, I mourned for a long time over the
drowning death of a friend in the Red River of the North.
(The Red was formed by the flowing together of the
Ottertail and Bois de Sioux rivers. The Red River then
flowed north to Hudson Bay.)

I would sit on the bank of the Red- a special place to
pass the time and think.

Of the plethora of soap brands (Irish Spring, Dial, Coast,
Caress, Zest, Swan, Lever, Kiss My Face, Jergens,
Palmolive, Aveeno, Pure-Castille, Lux, Bon Ami, Lifebuoy)
is just to name a few.

For me,  IVORY stands out!

And for good reason . . .  it floats, and floating is good.

                        At times -
                                I still think of my friend's death.

Before One Forgets What Is Important

The writing of this remembrance began with the death in 2002
of Paul Wellstone, his spouse Sheila, daughter Marcia, and 
the crew in the crash of his airplane in a woods near Eveleth, 
Minnesota.

                        I remember the 
                       day of his death.
                    Sunday, October 25
                     around 10:20 a.m.
                           So indelible.

For some reason, I had not attended church that morning.
That, in and of itself, somewhat unusual - being a member of
the choir.

                 I was where I need to be.

                          Upon hearing
                    the news, I rushed to
                the local garden store and
                   returned with a small
                        Red Maple tree.

                   I planted the tree just
            along side our front driveway.

                I planted it in their honor.

                            It's name is
                        Paul Wellstone.

          The tree was planted with care,
                                and I have cared for it 
                                                            ever since.

Did You Ever See A . . .

Did You Ever See A . . .

     -barn swallow

     -horse fly

     -flip flop

     -bumbershoot

     -hot dog

     -teeter totter

What Goes Around . . .

The old query . . .
      "what goes around a button"
dates back to my mother. She would
ask us kids that question.

We would say "a button hole."
     She would respond "yes, but also
           a goat."

Such simple things
      seem to persevere.

N e a n d e r t h a l i s h

Wow !

Am I proud to be able to trace my ancestry
all the way back to the Neanderthals!  Oh, the
marvels of modern-time technologies. Back as
a kid, my school library had a complete set of
the Encylopedia Britannica high up on a shelf.
It was so out-of-reach that the librarian had to
get them down for me. It was from them - I got
a hint of where I came from. The pastor of our
church said that we came from Adam and Eve.
(At the time, I thought it so amazing that Edam
and Ave were the very first Neanderthals.) 
How special is that?

        Mind you . . .  to think that I once actually
                looked like those folks.

But . . . those Neanderthals. Such foreheads and
those jaw lines. Rarely did we see anyone in
our neck of the woods that looked like that. 

However, there were a few folks that came close.

We wondered how come others in their families
looked like that as well. This was well before we
learned about heredity and genetics in science
class.

            We didn't poke fun at them . . . 
                              we were simply in awe.

A BLAST FROM THE PAST

Years ago . . . while in seminary in Washington DC . . .
I was standing on a corner with a gang of inner-city
youth in the, then infamous, Second Precinct.

At the time, it was the city's most crime-ridden area.
I was meeting with black, junior-high youth who
lived in the area's run-down tenements.

A helicopter flew low overhead. It blared out:
"President Kennedy has been shot."

The gang shouted at me, don't leave - stay.
They ran off, soon returning with scrapbooks filled
with newspaper clippings and photos of Kennedy
and Cassius Clay . . . their two heroes.

I will never forget standing there with Oliver, Donny,
Sonny, Charles, and their leader JT. Tears were shed.
We hugged.

A tragedy beyond imagination.

I MAKE LISTS . . .

I make lists, therefore I might be.
                                   -Renney Dee Shopping Kart*

A question from the next room:
                Did you remember to empty the cat boxes?
      Response: Have't done it yet.  An aside: I'd better
                                                          put it on the list.
                                                           
A wonderment:  Do I have enough vinegar to make the salad
                          dressing for the salad we are taking tonight?
      Response:  Yep! Just enough. Good!  An aside: Got to
                                                                   make sure to put
                                                               it on the shopping list.

              A comment:   Aren't lists wonderful !?







                                  *Rene Decartes  "I think, therefore I am."
                                    (1596-1650)

Can I Believe It?

Whoda thunk it! Those lasting words of singer/songwriter Greg Brown echo through
my mind yesterday, as I sat in front of the TV . . . watching the Women's March. (I'm way beyond marching anymore in terms of putting one foot in front of the other. But my heart marches along
with the multitudes.)

Last night, Elizabeth and I gathered in the home of friends, one of whom had been one of the
Parade Marshalls. She wore her pink hat for us. How proud we are to have her as a longtime
friend. A person of like mind, she is.

I remember walking just behind MLK in the March on Washington a mere 54 years ago. And, then the awareness came to me that yesterday . . .

              Our granddaughter was a part of that Women's March,
                          along with her family and friends!
                       Oh my . . . will wonders never cease?

                                       I HOPE NOT!

Remembering Rachel

Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries
of earth are never alone or weary of life.   -Rachel Carson
                                                                    (1907-1964)

     Remembering Rachel

       From a
          spring-melt
          water puddle -
              memories of Rachel
                     emerged.

          I met her there
              many times in my
                     younger years.

          She always
              did favor
                     ocean edges.

              Later in life,
                      I met her there.

                                        Many times.

                         *  *  *  *

Rachel Carson was fascinated by the ocean.
Silent Spring is one of the early environmental
science books. It was published on September of
1962 (about 4 months after I graduated from
college). I never dreamed that I would ever see
the ocean. I had lived in prairie land. Then, I read
Silent Spring. Her book clearly spelled out the
detrimental effects on the environment of the
indiscriminate use of pesticides. Her statements
meshed and gave validity to my concerns. I
remember how she accused the chemical industry
of spreading disinformation and how public
officials accepted industry claims without question.

In the 1950's, Rachel gave her attention to
conservation, especially to environmental concerns.
Of course, Silent Spring was met with fierce
opposition by chemical companies, but it spurred a
total reversal of our country's pesticide policy. Her
efforts led to a nationwide ban on DDT for agricultural
uses, and inspired an environmental movement that
led to the creation of the U.S Environmental Protection
Agency.

In 2006, Silent Spring was named as one of the 25
greatest science books of all time.

Just recently, I realized that when we were living in
Silver Spring, Maryland, Rachel also lived there!
Unknown to me, we may even have seen her while
shopping at the Woodward & Lothrop Department
Store.

Near the end of her life, she fainted and fell in that
same Woody's.

Always Hope

Much of my life I have been a trouble-maker . . .
even now. Always seeking to "fix things" in  a
world seen as being filled with greed, hatred,
and suffering. It is easy for me to allow external
bitterness and cynicism to wash over me . . . and
I am the one who suffers. I search an anchor to
help my heart and soul be a place of peace and
integrity.

Always, with hope that I can possess compassion
and allow my suffering and anger to melt away.

GMC

As a child
my friends and I
had disagreements galore.
Mostly during the long,
hot summer months.
Look at that Good-Made
Chevrolet someone would
holler, as a bright-red pickup
roared past.
(The truck had the letters GMC
boldly emblazoned on
it's engine hood.)

        I knew it stood for
               General Motors Corporation

Does Fracking Matter?

                        Does tracking and
                             removing oil
                    from under the ground -
                               matter to
                        the environment?
                           You Betcha!

      This is a true story that happened to a friend
            of mine. I won't mention his name.

I was visiting Art at his house. We were standing on the edge
of his black-topped driveway and I noticed many small ant
hills on the edge of the drive and commented on how busy
those creatures were!

He said, Yep, busy as ants they say - twice a day I sweep all
their little piles into the grass. 'Tis a little frustrating.

I commented - "Art.  It could get downright dangerous standing
here. Can't you imagine the big cavern that must be down there?"

Nothing to worry about, Clem . . . they are just little ants . . . 

Two days later the phone rang.  Clem?     "Yes Art . . . "

This morning, I went out to get into the van and the left front
wheel had sunk to its axel.

OUR LIVES BEGIN TO END

Our lives begin
   to end
      the day 
         we become silent
   about
      things that matter.
                                       MLK, Jr.


I will never ever forget
walking just behind MLK
in the March on Washington.
                       -Clem Nagel

A Stitch In Time Saves Nine . . . and You Can Count On That!

Elizabeth and I have a very old quilt that
was made by Hulda, her grandmother. We
remembered it was tucked away in an old
wooden chest. Almost together, we thought . . .
it is so beautiful. At least we could place it
on the top of our made-up bed each
morning . . . but not use it for a cover
during the night.
                         
            That was a good decision!

The other day, I wondered just how many
individual stitches that Elizabeth's grandmother
had made to create the quilt. So . . . using a
magnifying glass, I dutifully counted them.

                          Each one.
         Came up with thirteen thousand,
                    nine hundred, and
                          forty two!

Some folks must be thinking that I have a lot
of time on my hands. Actually, I took a shortcut
in counting the stitches, by measuring the quilt
(5 X 8 feet) and then carefully counting the
number of stitches in just one of the 12 X 12 inch
quilt squares. Pretty clever, I'd say . . .

I figured that I was counting on doing a lot more
that day than to use it up counting.

           That was another good decision!

Some day I am determined to count the number of
granulated sugar crystals there are in a 4 lb (l.8kg)
bag of white sugar. (The bag says that the sugar is
"Naturally Fat-Free and has only 15 Calories
PER TSP.")

           Maybe, I will pass on that project.

                     That could possibly
                            be still yet
                              another
                         good decision!

Prayer is heard

prayer is heard
even though 
not always
in ways
we think it
will surely
come      

 
                          -This piece came to me early this morning
                            even before I awoke. It is written
                            the best I remember.
                            Now . . . I have come to believe that
                            it has something to do with Advent . . .
   

ARE OYSTER REALLY NOISY?

Just returned from
the local food mart to
buy a couple of cans of
oysters.

Each Christmas Eve, for
as long as I remember,
the tradition was to serve
oyster stew for the
evening meal.
(Of course,not all of the
family liked it.)

But still. . .
it was all we had.

I recall the childhood
ditty:

   What kind of a
         noise annoys 
                 an oyster???

   A noisy noise
         annoys
       an oyster.

Go ahead . . . try it . . .

and then

convince a group of
friends to repeat it,
like a mantra for the
Christmas Season!

Amazing That Spell-Check Didn't Catch It!

I join many who are concerned about gun violence in the U.S.
Recently, I took it upon myself to write a satirical summary of
recent media reports on the dramatic surge of national gun
sales. What follows is a comprehensive compilation of a very
complicated issue.

A gum-buying surge appears to be unparalleled, with crowds
jumping the gum and flocking to area gum shows. According
to gum-maker industry executives, buyers deluge stores in
search of unusually potent varieties of gums as well as high
capacity chewing gum packs. All this fervor, even allowing for
the normal escalation in gum sales that predictably follow
increases in gas prices.

All in all, this represents a pretty dramatic uptick in demand
within just one month. The National Gum Association (NGA)
says that of special note are the record runs on "military-style"
gums (products intentionally augmented with special whiteners
and brighteners) that assault teeth with a promise to eliminate
"problems" overnight. It seems that some will do whatever it
takes to become top gum.

Certain outlets report that the highest sale of gums are those
sold in high-capacity canisters designed for the Chiclets A48's
holding as many as fifty-three gums at a time!

All this "emptying shelves market fury" is leading got a consumer
demand for sweeping proposals to revise existing gum control
laws such as:

    -Even more stringent background checks.
    -Prior to purchases, conduct on-site customer exams with
     special attention given to those persons with loose teeth, unstable
     dentures, serious overbite, etc.
    -Improved gum-ingredient laboratory analysis with specific
     attention given to higher-than-normal levels of chicle.

Meanwhile, gums continue to literally shoot off the shelves and
fly out the door in spite of strong and persistent gum lobby opposition.

Chew on that!


                          *Brands included in this market survey-report:
                                 Bazooka, Zapp, Turbo, Big Red, Cinnaburst,
                                 Dentyne, Doublemint, Double Bubbel, Eclipse,
                                 Chiclets, Excel, Freedent, Hubba Bubba,
                                 Hoodia, Orbit, Tidalwave, and Trident.

A MISSISSIPPI RIVER ADVENTURE

I live just 1 1/2 blocks from the mighty Mississippi
River - and so wish I could live even closer! What
a majestic creation!

It was summer, and a group of writing friends were
spending a "writing afternoon" at my house. After
a couple hours had passed, I put forth a suggestion
that we all pile into the van and drive over to the nearby
Banfill-Center for the Arts situated on Rice Creek, just
before the small river joins the Mississippi. There, we
could spend some time by the river, find a bench, and
do some writing.

Little did I know that not one of the other four people
in the group had ever been right down by the river!
They told me that they had only viewed it by looking
down from up high on one of the many road turnouts.

No wonder they seemed somewhat apprehensive as
we left the van and began our hike down to the river
bank.

And, there was the river! Right before us!

It cooperated by arranging for a lone Belted Kingfisher
to perch on one of the overhanging branches at the
confluence of the two rivers, and to have a small swarm
of minnows "hang out" right close to the shore. A Pileated
Woodpecker let out a call as it did it's swooping flight off
into the distance.

We totally forgot to find a bench to do our writing. Instead,
we piled back into the van, returned to the back deck, and
continued writing in the safety of a nearby, cultivated
flower garden.

W H A T A T R I P T H A T W A S !

Elizabeth and I have just returned from a four-day
"Poetry and Writing Festival" at Grand Marais on
Lake Superior. The trip north from the Twin Cities
was anything but relaxing . . .  heavy fog the whole
way. As the driver, I clenched the steering wheel 
with eyes glued on the faint road ahead.

We arrived on time and had a fantastic time with
a great group of writers from mainly Wisconsin and
Minnesota. The presenters were most creative!

Lake Superior exceeded our memories with the 
sunsets, sunrises, and the sound of waves.

What follows is an account of an earlier trip around
Lake Superior a few years ago . . .

    And what a trip it was! Last month, Elizabeth
    and I went on a road-trip all around Lake
    Superior. The leaves were at their peak. We had
    no plans as to where to sleep each night. We
    dawdled. We took every side road that went 
    toward the "Big Sea" that we could manage. 
    We just walked the beaches, looked for stones,
    listened to the waves and wind. Met some very
    interesting people in out-of-the-way-cafes.
    Of course, Elizabeth took photos and I wrote
    poetry. 

    The tires on our brand-new car went around 
    one million, three hundred eighty six thousand
    times until we arrived back home. (I figured out
    the number of miles and the circumference of a
    tire and multiplied!)

            Amazing the things that people do
                     with their brains!

The Old Arse is A-Moverin

The Old Arse is A-Moverin -
                 A-Moverin
                       A-Moverin and
                              I'm moving on.

One of our daughters stayed for a while in New
Zealand. She and her future husband Dave,
lived on a farm where Susan baked bread for the
family and Dave helped to shear sheep. When
the two of them arrived back, she had a somewhat
revolutionized vocabulary. One phrase she now
used quite often was "Rattle your days" which
was Kiwi slang to tell someone to hurry up or to
get a move on. Dags are the dried exrement
hanging from the wool at the back of sheep.
Rattling days would be when sheep are running.

     See you later . . .
                   got to get a move on!