Swimming with Angels

 

children in the pool having a great time. 

 

Grandma, watch me

Splash and dive

Did you

See

That?

Hands in the water

Sweeping
through the bubbles

And finding

The air.

 

 

 

 

 

 Tanned arms and hands 

Droplets on eyelashes

 

 Wrinkling

Fingers,

Shouting 

Splashing

 

Grandma heaven.

 

 

Measure of a Great Summer

Summer is just starting.  Soon fireworks will burst in the sky and "ahhhh...ooohhh" will drift upwards.

Summer is measured in so many ways.  Not by time or clocks or calendars, but by all things intangible is summer measured. 

Summer is measured by:

* amount of fireflies caught and held in a quart jar. 

Pinterest

Indiana

* first good ear of sweet corn covered with butter.

* wrinkled fingers of my grandchildren after swimming all day.

* by splashes in the pool by children of all ages.

*  number of the SPF in the sunblock lotion.

* by how high the A/C is set.

* by lack of football games on TV.

* by sales of summer clothes at JCPenney.

Can you add to the list?  I wonder how many measurements our blogging community can add?

Wednesday Words: Emma

Ocean floor

 Emma had retreated to the basement  of her mind as years passed and words came less and less.

A gentile in a kind Mormon rest home, Emma heard the nurses as they changed shifts and discussed patients, as if they were inanimate objects.  “Her extremities are more spastic” and “Exhibits increasing imbecility daily” were the diagnoses and observations expressed. 

Rage and anger filled Emma’s mind, but words could not break the barrier the stroke had given her.

A new orderly, Kevin was hired for the night shift and was assigned to Emma’s care.  His kindness was a gift.  Kevin spoke to her with gentleness, a relief after her silence had muted her voice.

One late, late night night, Kevin softly entered Emma’s room and awoke her.  “Emma, you know you have fulfilled your life’s purpose.  Now,” he covered her mouth and nostrils with his big hands.  “Let’s go swimming in a cool ocean.  Take a deep breath, and dive to the bottom.”

Emma’s mind grew darker and darker as she reached the ocean’s floor.  “How lovely!”  were her last thoughts. 

These italicized and underlined words are provided by Delores from Under the Porch Light.  Each Wednesday,  Delores provides six daunting words for any who wishes to participate in this writing challenge. Please visit her site by clicking on the shivering cardinals in the sidebar; you will find other writers who have taken different slants on these words!

Falling is an Art

Please go to this site!

Source: Kevin Tuck at rgbstock.com

God has a way of creating magnificent falls.  These on the left (photographed by Ruben Tiben and Kevin Tuck beside that) are only some of very memorable falls.
But 
the word falls has so many meanings: the one above and now the one below.

Over the years, I have made some spectacular falls, all due to tripping over some unseen object.  Some ended badly with a broken something or other and/or finding myself drifting back to consciousness. 

But this time…it was great, because my granddaughters were there to see it.

My granddaughters and had spent about 45 minutes (by my reckoning) and about 15 by theirs swimming. Not paying attention as I dried off, I stubbed my toe on an uneven piece of concrete and went flying.

At least that is what the girls told me. Flying, Grandma, Flying!!

In reality, I went down hard on my right knee, and remembered to roll not sprawl. So there I was lying on my back, holding up some decking that has been standing at that corner for about 5 years. 

The girls were screaming OH-GRANDMA-ARE-YOU-OKAY?  They really didn't want the moment to end, but finally went to get my husband.

This looks like my knee at present.

They squealed as grandpa hosed me off, and as the blood streamed down my leg.  They skipped along side me as we made for the bathroom.

THEN they took turns pouring hydrogen peroxide on my knee.  Oh, the bubbles!  How they loved when my scrape bubbled, while I gritted my teeth.

Interest dropped off went it came to bandaging and stuff.

RWLinder

As falls go, I did quite well on this one.  But these below are far more impressive.

costiql

And then.... this fall is just around the corner.

My mother's hometown

Kow-uh-Bunga!

Ten more days…no, now it is nine…

Calendars in our house have count-downs to seeing our grandson, who lives on the other side of the world with my daughter Mary and husband Richard.  They pay the rent and fix the food, so he keeps them around.

Skype is a marvelous invention; I know I have mentioned that a few times each a month.  This morning Mary asked if I could go swimming with Benjamin at the marvelous water park in Bern. 

We can do that.

The look on my face and the stuttering words said something to the effect that sure-I-can-swim-with-Benjamin.

 The internal dialogue:

  

Do I own a swimsuit?....One that fits?....One that I could be seen in public wearing?.....Will I have to shave my legs?....Should I buy some artificial tan stuff to cover my Irish white skin?....What if something happens?... 

Basically, Benjamin and I are hitting the chlorinated artificial waves this summer!  Kow uh bunga! 

The video below is not in Bern, at all. 

No, we will not be be taking this or any other similar ride.  Wading pools-here we come!

City of Bern is also "City of the Bear"

How Summer Is Measured

Summer is slipping by me.  Already the fireworks have burst in the sky, while I watched them in TV.  Where did the awe go?  What happened to all those “Ahhhhs”  and “Ohhhhs”?

Summer is measured in so many ways.  I guess it comes down to that basic premise. 

Summer is measured:

* in the amount of fireflies caught and held in a quart jar.

* in the first good ear of sweet corn covered with butter.

* in the wrinkled fingers of my grandchildren after swimming all day.

* in the number of times people comment on how hot it is today.

* by the splashing in the pool.

* by the number of the SPF in the sunblock lotion.

* by how high I want the A/C set.

* by the lack of football games on TV.

* by the sales of summer clothes at JCPenney.

Can you add to the list?  I wonder how many measurements our blogging community can add?

The Stylish Blogger

Hmmm...these people don't know me very well.  How much should I tell them?  How deep should I go?  Take a breath.
1.  I grew up on a farm with three brothers and one sister.  I learned how to skin a squirrel and rabbit from my brothers.  I can also clean a fish, pluck and dress a chicken or duck.  I will never again clean a catfish.  From my sister, I learned that I love her dearly.

2.  In 3rd. grade, my teacher Mrs. Mary Ellen Willard called me the 'Class Artist'.   She let me write and write, and draw to my heart's content.  She taught in a way that only exceptional teachers can.

Thank you, Kristina!http://kaykays-corner.blogspot.com 

3.  I didn't learn to swim until I was 32 yrs. old.  I was scared to death, but I saw my youngest child leaping unafraid into the deep end.  That made me jump in, too.
4.  We didn't have a piano (couldn't afford lessons, anyway) until I was 14 yrs. old.  Then I taught myself to play, using math to figure out the notes and their relationship to the keys. 
5.  Migraines have been a factor since I was 4 yrs. old, but I thought everyone had headaches like mine.
6.  Living in Ireland was one of the richest experiences of my life on all levels.  The Irish people are among the finest in the world.  I want to go back.
7.  Don't wish away a single day of your life, not one single day.  Life is too special. I learned this when I lost my brother Robert to a brain tumor at age 46, and then another brother Bill to septic poisoning after surgery, at age 44. 
 I will be awarding this Stylish Blogger Award in a few days to some exceptional writers, of which there are many!  Susan