Archive for Random Thoughts

Back in the Day

There was a time we’d fix things when they broke instead of just throwing them out and getting a new one. It’s sad it’s come to this. And, even sadder still, it’s too often true with love. Back in the day, “Until death do us part” meant something.

Back in the Day

 

In the old days

When things were broken

You didn’t throw them away

You fixed them

 

Your sock had a hole in it

You darned it

Darned if I know why

They called it darning

 

When a sock got too thin

Or the holes were too big

You used it as a rag

To polish the old furniture

 

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Grandpa ~ Pa to the family ~ Luther “Bunk” Stringer

I remember grandpa and grandma

It seemed like they fought a lot

Sometimes nothing more than

Grandma’s steely stare

 

Grandpa bent over the sink

Washing his hands

Seeing her anger over his shoulder

Reflecting in the kitchen window

 

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Grandma ~ Ma to the family ~ Jewel Stringer

Next thing you know, they’re in their chairs

Side by side, talking about the day

Making up, but not saying so

Just loving each other quietly… easily

 

Back in the day

Things and love got holes in them

You darned them, patched them

Glued them back together

Throwing them away…

never crossed your mind

 

Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn

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A Part of the Whole

a jigsaw puzzle 2 (3)

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Wherever You Are

the drive (2) 12-31-2019

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And There They Were

I’d left the door open, and they’d invited themselves in. A hoard of them. Enough to make a village if allowed to stay. But, I thought, it will only encourage more, and soon there’d be no room for the car. So, I grabbed my trusty blower and shooed them out into the cloudy day. I could barely hear them over the blower, but it was apparent they thought I’d invented a new game, and with each sweep of the blower they chittered laughter and raced around to re-enter their new-found home. I found it un-amusing and doubled back to chase them again. Eventually, I won the battle. Or so I thought.

leaves in the garageAs soon as I shut down the blower, I heard a tittering behind me. I whipped around, and there they were, all in a row. I swear they we’re stifling more laughter and were being perfectly still, perhaps thinking I wouldn’t see them there. It was like looking at a group of children, squeezing their eyes shut tight. Smiling… thinking their closed eyes made them invisible. I couldn’t help it; I laughed out loud and then watched them titter and skitter beneath the car. I shut the garage door and let them stay.

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Love Is All We Need

minion guitarSongs have always moved me; some in a positive way, others just the opposite. Lines from songs have struck me as genius, some as profound, and some as simple truth. Interestingly, it took years for the truth of those lines to truly mean anything to me, and I too often wish I’d seen the wisdom in the words before I reached this age of… maturity. Yes, I admit, I wish I’d known then what I know now. I should have listened to the music.

And now, as I inch slowly toward the end, and the beginning is so far behind me, I can no longer recall the roads I traveled, I wonder how life would’ve been if I’d lived without fear. We all do it. We scratch and claw our way to what we’re told is success, which translates to security, and then cling to it as if it can keep us safe from all harm, only to realize the light we obeyed for most of our years was the one in the middle; the yellow one. Oh sure, we often ignored and sped through it, telling ourselves if we stopped the guy behind us my plow into us. And so, we lived, caution being another word for fear. Green being just as frightening, and the red one to be avoided at all cost, because slowing down was bad enough, but stopping meant you’d given up all control, allowing something, someone, to take control.

But… what if we’d lived like we were dying? Would the knowledge our time was limited have caused us to throw caution to the wind? Would yellow have been meaningless, and red nothing more than a dare? How fast and how far would we have gone? Maybe not far. But we would have lived like there was no tomorrow. Or… like there was, and it counted. Counted, because it would give us more time to love, which, I’ve realized, perhaps too late, is what living is all about. Love is indeed, all we need.

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Who’d A Thunk It?

IMG_20171016_150100797_HDRDay number 25,202 started like most of the last 1000 or so; about three cups of coffee and some sweet cakes—always have to have something sweet with my coffee—been doing that every morning for about 35 or so years. That said, I then read our morning devotional, and Sherry and I talked about God and our many blessings for a bit. We’ve been doing that for almost 24 years now. After that, I did a four-minute plank, then Mom called and we talked about God, which is mostly what we talk about in our weekly chats. And then, I put on my shoes and was about to walk out the door and take a quick five-mile walk, when son, Bill called. We talked for a good while—we always do—but I had to smile after we hung up. I told Sherry I knew it was my birthday, because Bill let me talk quite a bit. We laughed, because she knows when Bill calls, he usually does most of the talking. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I love to listen to him and get the low down on what him and his boys are up to. When Trevor and Nathan were playing football in high school, Bill would call on Saturday or Sunday and literally give me a play by play of Friday night’s game. Being so far away was hard—never getting to see the boys play ball—but Bill’s account of the games took away some of the pain. So, anyway, after we talked, I went for that five-mile walk, then came back and fixed me and Sherry a PB&J on some of my grilled homemade jalapeno bread. (Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.) Now—it’s straight up noon—I’m going to run to the store, then come back and mow & trim the yard. Probably take it easy the rest of the day, then go out for a celebratory dinner this evening. Early evening, of course. I mean, after all, I’m 25,202.5 days old, ya know. Who’d a thunk I’d last this long?

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What Did He Say!?!?

angelI don’t think anyone will argue when I say, Charlie ain’t no angel. I don’t have time to list all the bad things I’ve done, said, or thought. Take the “said” thing for instance. I’m not proud of some of the language I’ve used and let me assure you that though I use the past tense, it’s more recent than I want to admit. Like, oh, an hour ago. Yep. My daddy wasn’t no sailor, but when it comes to cussin’, I couldn’t have had a better instructor. Or worse, depending on how you look at it.

My most recent outburst occurred this morning (twice), when I messed up the jalapeno bread (twice). In retrospect, it was comical. Except for the water and jalapenos and cheese, I put the ingredients in the bread maker last night. Then, at 6:00 A.M., I added the cheese and jalapenos, and started the machine. It takes four hours to complete the cooking cycle; rest, mix, rise, mix, rise, mix, bake. But as the machine began to mix for the second time (two hours into the process), I noticed it didn’t sound like it normally does at that point. As I was opening the lid, I saw the water, still in the measuring cup, sitting beside the machine. I didn’t use all the words the old man taught me, but I think I got most of them in.

So! Off to the store I went to get another jalapeno! Got home, cleaned the machine, and put in another batch. Thirty minutes later, when the first mix began, something—AGAIN—didn’t sound right. I opened the lid, and it was apparent the mixing blade was nowhere to be found. I’m fairly sure I got all the words in that time. Dad woulda been proud! Or, not.

Finally found the mixing paddle in the trash with the first “dry” ingredients, and put it in, started the machine again, and I’m hoping the bread will turn out okay. We’ll know in about three hours. And if doen’t, I’ll put together another batch. Won’t be no more cussin… today.

Like I always say, “I’m gettin’ better.” But I sure ain’t no angel.

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