ONE WORD SATURDAY.....

TOLERANCE...

In Which Meo Writes About A Monster…

In Which I Watch Man Destroy, Destroy And Destroy And Destroy…

My days lay flat behind me
And so to before me
My mind a mush
Twas this morn I woke as such.

So what to do?

While prospects nudge
Mine are unseeing eyes
Mine are unmoving limbs
I sit as tho paralyzed

And what to do?

Am I wood like you?
Am I but a piece of ash?
Waiting…
Waiting…
For wave of a magic wand
For a puff from a Jeanie bottle
For a wish come true

What to do?


And the oil is gushing
Vomiting in our ocean
Puking into our Mother earth
A terminal man made cancer

What have we done??
I am sorry, Hitty.

A Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

In Which I Once Again Listen, Learn And Understand Humans Just A Bit More

As time goes by I have discovered that Meo leads a somewhat up and down life. Some days she is so busy, as she says, “She can’t think straight.” Some days are so uneventful they pass by without so much as a nod. On one day last week she and I experienced some goings on that, at the very least were, a bit interesting.


As it was, I rode with her and a young lady; her youngest daughter, who she calls Lil’Mama and Little Man and New Baby to visit The Teacher daughter and her two children.


At what looked to me like midday we drove for some time to a nice house in the woods.

As we entered into this cozy, warm house, I was overwhelmed with thoughts of another house which I remember from a time long ago. Was there a mantelpiece above a fireplace and flickers of brightness on shining pots and pans? This was but a fleeting thought but it gave me a deep, pleasant feeling within.

I was placed on the kitchen counter and began to thoroughly enjoyed myself. I must confess much of the words exchanged were a trifle confusing as oftentimes I am not up on the latest news of the world. However, there were some particular subjects of interest to me.
I learned that The Teacher One is a skilled knitter; I learned that she can also cook rather well and that she keeps chickens and grows a quite large garden.

I also discovered that four little cousins playing together can make for rather noisy goings on. I must confess that such sounds did bring to mind some fond recollections, and as it was I lingered in those memories later during the ride back home. But here, I’m getting ahead of myself.

At this time The Teacher One was serving a fish mixture on toast with cheese, watermelon slices, tea, and two different kinds of cookies. They looked to me to be a delicious assortment. Thus I am once again regretful that I cannot take in the pleasure of taste. However, the smell was indeed most delightful.

As spoken of earlier along with the lively clatter of noises coming from the four little people there was conversation between Lil’ mama, The Teacher One, and Meo. They discussed all manner of subjects; I learned that mother’s milk is by far much more nutritious than formula. I heard Meo speak of aging and the graying of hair. I gained the knowledge of raw versus white sugar. I also listened to the three women relate stories of life with husbands. (This subject I found rather amusing as Meo, The Teacher One and Lil ’ mama told their stories with good humor.)

I also gleaned from subjects discussed that Lil’mama and The Teacher One had some slightly differing beliefs.
Now , interestingly I have observed on the big screen even the smallest of differences between humans can bring about some rather uncomfortable feelings and oftentimes loud words are exchanged. But there seemed to be only pleasant communications between Lil’mama and The Teacher; they seemed but only friends. Again I am reminded that humans are a conflict as such and hold much interesting lines of thought. I am constantly learning anew of human ways.

It was precisely during the lighthearted exchange of husband tales that a loud commotion created an instant distraction.

“Mom, Mo-o-om, Mommy…” was the cry heard from the other room. It seemed as one; Lil’mama, The Teacher One and Meo stood up and rushed toward the sounds of distress.

From my spot on the counter I could hear but little, however I was able to conclude that things were smoothed out a bit and it was decided that a story of some sort was to be presented on the big screen for the cousins to view together.

However, just as it seemed as if things were being settled in the other room I was in a far different state. One of the children who belongs to The Teacher One had walked into the kitchen and picked me up. As it was, my uneasiness was quickly put to rest. He held me with such care and confidence. Now it comes that this child was a boy however at this time my eyes told me otherwise. For he had the most beautiful long and lovely hair. He carried me into the other room and began to quietly play with me. For a few blissful minutes he and I had a delightful game of play; I was placed in one of his many toy cars.
I was even put into such that I could stand looking out the top of the car.



This playful scene seemed far too short for me, for soon the cousins became interested in the story on the big screen and Meo, Lil’mama, and The Teacher One walked into the other room.

As the visit drew to a close, coats and belongings were gathered, kisses and hugs were exchanged and, thankfully, I was retrieved. The long haired boy who I had heard was called “Just Like His Dad” scooped me up and out from the car and shyly handed me back to Meo. I could not help but notice the big smile spread across his handsome face.

And so it went, as we journeyed home I thought of the noisy sounds of children, sisters so different yet so the same, and handsome little boy with long hair.

A Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

In Which I Meet Duggles And Learn The Makings Of A Freegan

I was lying on Meo’s work table when she got the call.

“Is he OK? He’s not hurt is he? Oh my, what is it?” She said to the person on the other end of the cell phone. There was a great deal strain in her voice and her eyes were closed, I could tell Meo was worried.
Then I saw her face relax just a bit. “OK, tell me all about it,” she said. A few minuets passed while Meo and the person on the other end of the cell phone exchanged information and such. Then Meo closed her phone. She stood very still for a while, deep in thought. She exhaled softly and whispered to herself, “Duggles.”

“Honey, she yelled, “We’ve got an issue.”
Little did I know that this was to be the beginning of yet another adventure.

It was but the next morning; Meo and her rolling-eyed husband walked down from their upstairs bedroom, bags packed, and talking of gassing up the car.
Meo spoke to her rolling-eyed husband;
“I’ll tell you one thing. Hitty is coming along and he is going to hold her while I take a picture no matter how silly he thinks it is. And another thing, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind! He’s not going to get away without his mom telling him what a stupid thing this is to do!” She shook her head in discussed as she spoke.

So go we did, and once again I was tossed into the bottom of Meo’s purse. I cautioned myself, “You better hold on for this ride.” >>>>>>>>>>>>

As yet, I still did not understand exactly what was to come about. To be honest, I was simply grateful to be going along, and hoped beyond hope that Meo would take me out of her purse and allow me to view the sights along the way. I could hear music, probably coming from the car radio. I could also hear Meo and rolling-eyed husband holding sporadic conversations.
And so it came, over the next few hours I gathered enough information. I was to come to some very peculiar conclusions, the likes of which I had never inferenced before. Mercy, I thought, could it be that Meo’s son, who I had heard her call Duggles, was in trouble with the law? Could Meo be the mother of a criminal? Were we to be visiting him behind bars? Would Duggles be wearing stripped clothing as I had seen some bad men wearing on the big screen?
I had heard Meo say we should be there by this evening. Presently, I also heard the man on the radio say it was near to ten o clock in the morning. So I made ready for a long, long ride.
I found it rather dark down in the purse and a bit warm. Even though Meo had left her purse open, as would have it, along with the purr of the car and a cozy feeling overwhelming me, I could feel myself starting to doze off.

I awoke with a start! It was the car door slamming shut. Oh! No! Had I been left behind? Curiously enough, it seems this has become a far more familiar event, such that I was not alarmed as much as one would have thought. So over the course of the next few minutes I simply generated the pleasant images that sometimes gather in my thoughts and bring me comfort. I thought of a little girl whose name was Thankful and a rosebud sash and new slippers and a party. It came to me as strange that some of these thoughts might appear, for I never know of where they come. Before I was too deep in such, Meo and her rolling-eyed husband were back and gathered in their seats and belts; ready, afresh to travel.
Again, I expected that Meo might remember that I was but just at her feet, and would then pick me up. Indeed, I was pleasantly surprised when she took my picture, as she learned the workings of her new camera, but I was disappointed as I was left in the purse for what seamed like a dreadfully long time.

At last Meo reached down and picked me up and sat me prettily at the window. >>>>>>>>

What I saw was beyond anything I could have imagined; miles and miles of pasture, more cows than I could count and white sheep in green, green fields of grass. To my back, (for Meo had sat me such that I was traveling backwards) there looked to be what was a long wide road with trucks and cars all going extremely fast. What a thrill! It seamed as though I sat for sometime in this wonderful spot. I think I could never tire of this amazing view of a country side of which I was to discover was western Oregon.

And so it came to pass that we traveled the long road to a town where Duggles was jailed. It took but a short time to free him. I understood that there was some money paid and some documents signed. Then Duggles emerged from his confinements. It was the very first time I had laid eyes on Duggles. He was a man I will not forget soon. He seamed a stranger, yet somehow familiar. His eyes bore a sameness to Meo’s and his smile, though charming, was somewhat mischievous. It was as if he was as a lively-young boy. I immediately took a liking to him.

Evidently Meo and rolling-eyed husband were, if not spirited by his presents, at the very least, incredibly glad to see him. Meo hugged him and smiled widely.
This reunion was not without it’s moments of uneasiness, though. Meo, as she had said, surely “gave him a piece of her mind.” Duggles, rolled his eyes, (a male family trait) and agreed with his mother and voiced his regrets at doing “such a dumb thing.”

Now comes the most interesting part. It came to pass that Duggles was living in a tent in the woods and was indeed rather enjoying himself. As he spoke of his life I listened with a bit of envy for he had taken pleasure in some very grand adventures. Alas Duggles was particularly proud to be leaving a small carbon imprint on the earth. So of course I listened intently with wonder. I was mystified as to how such a large man could leave a small print. For the most part, Meo and rolling-eyed husband seamed to be enjoying his oration. However, I could see there were times when it seemed very challenging for them to relate to this chosen way of life.
The day was all but over when Meo when rolling-eyed husband found their way to a place of sleep for the night. The next morning we were on the road again, and from what I could gather, on our way home.

It was but a day later that I overheard Meo and what I assumed was one of her daughters talking. I think this was the teacher one, for she always seemed to have a great many explanations for all manner of things.
“Mom,” she said, “There is a name for what Duggles is. They’re called Freegans, you know like vegans, they live off the leftovers of what they perceive as the capitalistic world by living off its excesses. Freegans embrace community, generosity, social concern, freedom, cooperation, and sharing in opposition to a society they feel is based on materialism, moral apathy, competition, conformity, and greed.”………………………

Upon reflection, I can feel only pleasure in once again understanding some small part of what humans are.


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Note: If you are interested in understanding more of what a Freegan is Hitty and Meo invite you to go read this article.

In Which I Dry Up A Bit And Discover My Life-Blood

I could smell the onions, I could smell the eggs, and I could even smell the dill pickles.
What was happening here? Was Meo making potato salad?

---- Oh yes I can smell, I can see, I can feel, I can hear, I can speak (when no humans are about) I can move and dance (sort of) and I can write.---

So again what is happening here? Is summer on it’s way? I know, I know I’m but a little doll, but I can grasp these things. When Meo and her rolling-eyed husband pulled out the barbeque, when Meo starts airing out the bed linens in the sun, when Meo starts making potato salad then I know the warmer weather is coming.

Tis near summer!

For the most part the sunny weather is a good thing. If I can be left to bask in the rays of sunshine for just a short period, my ol’ pegs will warm a trifle. This always gave me a glow within. I am well aware that I am unable to sunburn. However, too much sun and heat can dry me out and can make me subject to crankiness. I have learned this is not an agreeable state of mind.

So after spending a few sunny such days outside with Meo, this morning I felt a particular uneasiness which I do not distinctly remember feeling before.
I feel an inclination to dwell on the rather doleful side of my thoughts. Presently, I vaguely remember some not so pleasant happenings and, as before, I am a bit confused as to where they might come from. I have rather grey thoughts of crows, and a burning ship, and then something like a stick and some rough young boys in the night. I do not hold with dwelling on such pessimistic things but sometimes I have but little control.

So I am to spend the day in the doldrums and can see not much to brighten me.

Lest I should become so morass that I cannot bear it, I slip into a rather shallow and troubled sleep.

Upon wakening some hours later, I discover I have been left lying and clad only in my undies on the kitchen counter. Meo, as usual, had left the microwave light turned on. I could clearly see from the clock on the stove that it is now the early hours of the morning. Presently, I could feel something very strange. It was as rather pleasant sensation and it took me sometime to understand just what had happened. Once again I am simply unable to explain such luck that befalls me in my times of peril. For so it came that I had been carelessly placed in a rather large puddle of olive oil that Meo had evidently spilled. My backside had so completely soaked up the lushes liquid while I had slept that I felt delicious and most as nice as one could imagine.

However, one must take full advantage of such lucky circumstances and I thus began pondering just how I might flip myself over so as to more evenly spread the heavenly feeling of the oil. There was no doubt that both Meo and her rolling-eyed husband were upstairs and most likely fast asleep. However, the two dogs Grover and Zoë were currently taking a rather restless nap on the couch not far away. If I were to flip myself over my stirring would more than likely start them to barking. This would intern surely wake up rolling-eyed husband. I did not want him to discover me and remove me from the counter thus foiling my plans to soak up more of the soft, creamy olive oil. After but a few minuets I resigned myself to taking this chance.
I then, much to my surprise, and without much difficulty I crossed one leg over the other and neatly flipped over to my front side. The two dogs perked up. Jumped off the couch and directly came towards where I lay on the counter. Then, to my dismay, they both began their incessant barking. It was but a short time later that rolling-eyed husband opened the bedroom door, leaned over the railing and spoke in very harsh words to the two dogs.

“There is nothing to bark at, you silly mutts, STOP BARKING NOW!” he yelled.
He turned, walked into the bedroom and closed the door.
The dogs jumped back up on the couch.

“Safe.” I thought to myself. As I silently continued to savor the amazing sensation of the oil .