Looking at a Story

Nolcha Fox is the W3 Poet of the Week. She has set her poetry challenge to write a Cherita. Cherita is the Malay word for story. This form consists of 3 stanzas. The first is one line, the 2nd is a couplet, and the 3rd is a tercet. The line lengths are at the discretion of the poet. The poem is untitled and centered on the page. The goal should be a poem that is imagistic and concise. Nolcha also challenges us to incorporate one or all of the following themes: Cave, Special Delivery, and or Missing Road Sign.

Cave exploration lacks road signs, always has.

Lost inside this cave – no direction, no light, no signs.
I struggle to find my way through narrow passages.

Panic sets in when I fall, squeezed by walls unfamiliar.
Finally gasping for breath I burst from the cave.
Rejoicing, I find I’m the anticipated special delivery!

My SIL is a Midwife/Nurse Practitioner specializing in labor and delivery in triage. She has been fortunate to have been present for the birth of 7 of her grand children. She was discussing the fact that it never fails that when there is a blizzard, the number of babies born goes up! We have been in a winter storm warning since Wednesday. With approximately 6 inches by Wednesday night, another 5 inches on Thursday and I’m holding my breath to see what falls from the sky today. My SIL was scheduled to work yesterday so I’m guessing she’s been busy!!

Looking at Expanded Horizons

A boyfriend I had in high school and for part of college, was unfortunately heavily influenced by his father, DC. DC told everyone that DC stood for Darling Charming, except on Sundays when it stood for Damn Cute. The truth was far less enchanting – Delbert Carrol. He was a hard drinking, fast living scoundrel. He didn’t approve of me for several reasons – I was a church-going gal, I didn’t drink or cuss, and I was extremely polite. Every time we interacted I could predict the tangent of the conversation. He’d ask me a question, “Have you ever ____?” They tended to be on the order of have I ever had a beer? Vodka? Eaten Bananas Foster? Since the answer was inevitably a no, he’d launch into his lecture that I need to “expand your horizons” and “live a little”. I broke up with that guy over his father influenced mantra “If you’re not with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”

I’ve encountered others in my lifetime who have considered my sheltered childhood to be a deficit. Some questioned if I had ever really had fun – because I don’t drink or take recreational drugs. Others have suggested that if I’ve never been on a pub crawl that I’m missing out on life! I had one person accuse me on being ignorant and a coward because I’ve never “dropped acid”! But these are the same people who had never shorn a sheep, ridden a horse, picked tomatoes (shudder – those tomato worms are gross), or bottle fed a lion cub. I’ve visited National Parks, seen both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and the Gulf of Mexico, and visited all 50 US States! I’ve traveled cross country in a plane, on a train, and by car. I rode on a motorcycle once (which was quite enough for one lifetime). I’ve seen births (cats, dogs, rabbits, mice, rats, birds – robins, ducks, and chickens, horses, cows, and pigs). I’ve seen death too. I’ve had my hands in the body cavity of dogs, cats, rabbits, and rodents and yes, they lived. I’ve borne and raised 2 sons, and been married for 43 years to the same man.

I’ve come to the conclusion that those people who insist I need to expand my horizons are the ones who are constrained by their own lack of curiosity. (steps off my soap box)

Looking Iced

Oh boy. Maybe I’m psychic. I did this blackout poem way back before ICE started rounding up people. I don’t know if this was an awareness on a subconscious level of where we were headed as a nation. It kind of freaked me out a little as I was looking through Barbara Kingsolver’s book, Pigs in Heaven, and read this blackout poem on page 75…

I assumed her hands
Misled you – carefully
I guessed, I guess a lot
You might not be valid
She does not breathe
I needed papers, I got papers
The records, the law
The final say
I don’t understand
The law is a wholesale removal
I’m talking about our kids
Being taken out of my home
I scare you
I want you to have the problem
To make sure laws are respected

Looking at What the Year Holds

The W3 Poet of the Week, Carol Anne, has set the poetry prompt to write a Nonet. The Nonet is a 9 line syllabic poem of diminishing syllable counts. The first line is 9 syllables long (no specified meter) and the last line is 1 syllable. The topic is to have the poem capture your thoughts, expectations, and emotions going into this new year.

I want calm amid the politics
The home of the brave and the free
Safe and warm for all peoples
My dream is their dream too
Yearning for freedom
Hands touching hands
Open hearts
Peace Year
Eve

What is foremost in my mind is the state of my country. Democracy is being put to the challenge. My mother always said that the threat was from within. And she wasn’t alluding to an influx of immigrants or the melting pot of religion and races – her target was those who would stir up hate, intolerance, and pit the American public against itself. That’s what we have seen with this current president and his appointees. A dismantling of public health, safety, education, research and so much more. He isn’t aiming for king, he’s set his sights on dictator for life…

Looking at Board Games

I haven’t written a straight post in sometime, by that I mean a post without a poem or story snippet attached. So I want to talk about board games. We are a family that has always played board games. Sparky’s family played Monopoly (almost as a religion) and Michigan Rummy, Clue, Twister and of course Chess and Checkers.

I grew up playing Aggravation, Parcheesi, Mille Bornes, Yahtzee, Backgammon and Life. But by far the favorite was Cribbage. Once Sparky and I married our favorite games got an upgrade. I refused to join in the cut-throat Monopoly (aka Monotony) that his family played – because it really is a slog with just 2 players. We opted for Scrabble, Sequence, Cribbage, Pictionary, and Trivial Pursuit. But the game that we played as soon as the boys were old enough was Risk. That was the game Sparky was introduced to in college and he loved it. It had all the elements that made a board game fun – strategy, chance, and the thrill of conquering the world.

Saintvi gifted us with a board game – Codenames. Tons of fun! So much fun that when my sister & BIL came to visit several years ago, we played it and when they got home to FL they went and bought the game! (Yes, we played it while visiting them in October.) Because we have friends who don’t like card games (childhood trauma) they enjoy Trivial Pursuit. We used to have all the different versions – original, silver screen, Disney, all-stars, boomer, family, the 1980s, the 1990s, Star Wars, and then the last one we got, 20th anniversary. Most of them were sold at the rummage sale we had when we moved.

Now our games are a stripped down collection – Scrabble (because it is still fun with just 2), Codenames, Go Bananas, The Great Dalmuti, Risk, Sequence, and the current obsessions – Settlers of Catan, and Bazaar. Son#2 and his GF are big into board games! It makes my heart happy to have them ask to play board games when they visit. I don’t think we’ve had a crowd big enough to play The Great Dalmuti yet but Easter isn’t too far off.

When we get the family together, the hats and bling are ready to go!! What the linked video doesn’t say is that the Great Dalmuti and the Lesser Dalmuti can be tyrants – they can order the Lesser and Greater Peons to stand during the game, make them fetch refreshments, do a silly dance, etc. It is the fun of being The Great Dalmuti. When we play, the Great Dalmuti gets to wear a cool hat and a 1990s style rapper medallion (a Mercury Cougar hood ornament on a big chain – and DO NOT ask how that came into my possession because I’m not talking), the Lesser Dalmuti has a really blingy set of Mardi Gras beads and a Fez. The merchants all wear plastic bowler hats or Kelly green top hats (think New Years party). But the Peons wear sombreros that are HUGE, so big that they are hard pressed to sit close enough to each other and not encroach into the Dalmuti’s personal space! The Dalmuti sits on a cushion in a comfy chair, the merchants sit on regular kitchen chairs and the peons (if the Dalmuti allows) perch on bar stools. It is generally an easy game and it isn’t fair but it can cause hilarity and we have a very good time!
What games do you play? Do you have a favorite??

Looking at Children

Here’s another Blackout Poem from Barbara Kingsolver’s book “Pigs in Heaven” page 73.

Follow inside the walls
Four different colors
Four smiles
Four kids
Four notches
Four men
A dangerous thing
A sick sound
I can’t name it
Listen to a voice
“You’re gone…”

I did this page back in November. I was channeling a story about a woman who had not had an easy life. She’s had her first child when she was still in high school. She had been pressured to give the baby up for adoption but had decided not to. She never married the father of that child. When she was in her early 20s she met a man, fell in love, and ended up pregnant. He disappeared. She kept that child too. Then a few years later she met a man that she thought would be her soul mate. They married. She had another child. Then he started drinking which led to him becoming abusive. She managed to divorce him. He died in a motorcycle crash. Then at the age of 30, while earning her living as an “exotic dancer” she was raped and ended up with child #4. By that time her oldest was 15. If it hadn’t been for her parents and sister, she’d have been homeless. Her family was willing to love and care for her children, make sure they were fed and clothed and had a roof over their heads. If not for her children, she’d probably have laid down and died. As it was her light was extinguished…

Looking at Conversation

This week we have been challenged to write a dialog poem in the style of Frank O’Hara’s “Metaphysical Poem” by the W3 PoW, Josie Holford. This challenge is to “write a poem (up to 20 lines) as a conversation, text thread, or inner dialogue. Let the two voices go back and forth — negotiating, hesitating, contradicting — but never quite landing on a plan. Play with repetition and everyday details to build tension and show who these people are. Slip in small observations that make the moment feel real. And when you get to the end… leave it unresolved.”

Go ahead and listen to that slop
Okay, I will and it is the truth
Please, it is nothing more than….
You don’t get to decide the truth
Oh and you do?
Uh huh because I can tell the difference
Are you so sure
Really, you want to go there
Exactly there and more
Better be careful what you say
Exactly, are the thought police here
Interesting that you bring that up
No big stretch since you support that
Go ahead and make fun
Perfect now I’m the bad guy
Look, we’ll all be better off
All? You mean just the white men
Yes, the true patriots
Except there are patriots of all races
Don’t play the race card with me

I decided to add a little structure to my conversation. Seems the political discourse has settled into a groove where neither side is willing to meet in the middle. But there comes a point when you must make a stand. Even amid the gaslighting and the narcissistic behavior, there is a limit. I think we are just about there…

Looking at New Lists

This is the first day of the new year. Tradition dictates that we “resolve” to do (or in some instances not do) things. I stopped making New Year’s Resolutions many years ago. Instead I took up setting goals. I remember having to set “SMART” (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound) goals for work. Since retirement I’ve let the goal setting slip away. Why? Because I felt like it! I now have “things I want to do”, “things I don’t want to do but have to” and “things I simply won’t do”! So here are my lists (so far) for 2026:

Things I Want To Do
1. Go to Australia
2. Travel to Florida to visit family
3. Reread the Harry Potter books (all of them)
4. Design a new Pathtag for Geowoodstock
5. Go to Geowoodstock
6. Make some bigger pieces in ceramics
7. Re-watch all the Harry Potter movies
8. Plant some wild flowers along the side of the house
9. Put up a better bird house in the tree out front
10. Complete the counted cross stitch quilt my father started.
Most of these things are fun, exciting, or fulfilling – or maybe all of the above. It isn’t a stretch to see why I’d want to do these things.

Things I Don’t Want To Do But Have To
1. Go on a diet
2. Get back to regular exercising
3. Submit 3 years of UHC bills for reimbursement
4. Hang the family pictures in the basement
5. Sort out some clothes that are too old/out of date
6. Help with the Church Rummage Sale
7. Clean son#1’s house as a birthday present
8. Cook a turkey for Father’s Day
9. Host Easter for Sparky’s family
10. Eliminate “the museum” in the basement*
There are some things that are obligations and responsibilities. The first 2 on the list are being mandated by my physician. Most of the rest are just part of being an adult. *This is an accumulation of memorabilia from Sparky’s siblings’ childhood. There is the rocking horse that no one wants to claim and take home but no one wants it sold or discarded. Ditto the baby carriage, assorted baby dolls, a set of Lincoln Logs, a couple board games with missing pieces and busted boards… you get the picture.

Things I’m NOT Going To Do
1. Teach Mochi to “speak” on command
2. Get on a bicycle
3. Go horseback riding
4. Dust Sparky’s desk
5. Ever, ever go back to Jesus Bar & Grill
6. Stick my hand into a dark hole for a geocache
7. Camp in a tent sleeping on the ground
8. Eat pickles
9. Cook asparagus
10. Paint the deck
There are some things I just want no part of. This is either to keep the peace, keep my health or maintain my current level of sanity. The pickle thing seems to be a thing that most people don’t understand. I’ve periodically tried to eat or like pickles. They make me gag. After nearly 70 years of trying to like them I’ve given up and I’m not going to torture myself any longer!

So there you have it. My roadmap for 2026. I’ll be doing some things with a sense of joy and adventure. I’ll do some things out of a sense of obligation or responsibility. And there will be things that I’ll avoid like the plague. If you see me wearing a plague mask that will be a big clue that I’m avoiding something!

Looking at Detective Evans’ Last Diary Entry

This is the end of the year and the end of the prequel for Detective Evans’ Diary. It has been fun giving her a little more of a back story and fleshing out her relationship with Shots. I hope you’ve enjoyed the story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it! There is of course, the story that comes after this -completed in 2011. I posted it on Xanga so very long ago. If there is any interest, I’ll post it here with some edits to improve the flow – because I like to think I’ve gotten better in the intervening 14 years!!!

Well, this diary is down to the last 2 pages so I’m going to make this last update and then stick it in my hope chest along with all those other useless bits of memorabilia. Shots has officially used up all his vacation and sick days that he accrued in his over 30 years on the force. I asked if he was going to retire. He got his hackles up and growled at me that the only way he’d retire is in a coffin! I had to do some fast talking to calm him down, explaining that I was only trying to prepare myself for a devastating loss if he were to leave. That soothed him. He assured me that if he made that kind of big announcement I’d be in the know well before he made it public.

We were working on some cold cases when a call came in, 10-54 (dead body found). It was in our county and we were very familiar with the location so lucked out and got assigned the call. Out in the middle of nowhere is a little campground around a tiny lake. It is really a pond but the owner of the campgrounds calls it Lake Happy, as in Lake Happy Campgrounds. Nobody was happy there when a man was found floating face down in the lake. He’d taken a bullet to the face and two to the abdomen. Definitely a homicide. I really didn’t want to go swimming to look for a gun at the bottom of that murky pond. Lucky for me, and Shots, the dive team was ready and willing to jump in. Those guys have been training for months for water rescue and recovery. I almost told them to “curb the enthusiasm”! It took 3 days to search the pond, mostly because of the thick weeds and muck on the bottom. They came up empty but did find some other interesting items: 2 bicycles, a golf cart, and about 6 coolers with lots of booze in them.

Of course while the divers were working in the water, we were talking to each and every camper. No one saw or heard a thing. The dead man was eventually identified but what he was doing about 500 miles from home and how he got to that campground was a mystery. It took about a month to get all the autopsy reports back. They didn’t provide much additional info. We had his name, address, date of birth, and that he’d been shot not 3 times but 5 times. All the bullets were from the same gun. We had to contact the police in his city so that they could inform the next of kin. They called us back to say that the man’s mother was found deceased when they went to notify her of her son’s death. They are really stumped as she was shot in the face and abdomen but was not a threat since she was in a wheelchair. It’s obvious that the 2 homicides are related.

The captain wants us to hand this off to the State Police since the investigation will involve jurisdictions beyond state lines. Shots is good with that so I guess I’m going to be okay with it too. With all the new guys working on the cold cases, it’s getting harder to find ones that have a higher probability of success. I guess that’s a good thing. Besides, since we are all working toward the same end there’s lots of collaboration and cooperation. For a second I thought Shots might be jealous but he’s not. I’ve got to keep an eye on him anyway. I don’t want him to feel left out.

Looking at Holidays Past

This is the last Blackout Poem for 2025. It is from Barbara Kingsolver’s book “Pigs in Heaven” page 69. I’m in that post-holiday letdown time. I loved getting together as a family. Exchanging gifts is always a highlight (I think I gave some excellent gifts). But I also was thinking about times past with my parents and sisters on Christmas. Then that moved to vacations and Thanksgiving, and I slid into a little puddle of self pity. I splashed around for a minute and then cleaned up. It just so happened that I did a little Blackout Poetry to take my mind off things but it didn’t really work out that way. The muse finds a way to express those inner thoughts.

Sits, steps, glowing
A long ago summer
A bonanza of birds
Get together and eat
A little
Mournful minutes
Come over to wait
For a horned owl