Saturday, June 30, 2012

At Last

Jenny's handing us a picture prompt this week, and I've done my best to do it justice. (Well, maybe not justice...but at least, I've done it...) And in less than the 100 words allotted, I might add. ;) 

At Last
©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson

"Ya wanna hang out?" Robert said.
Not words to fill my soul with dread.
In fact, I think he’s pretty swell.
And yet it isn’t going well.

I’ve dangled after him awhile,
hoping for a wink…a smile…
And now, at last, he’s come around
to sweep my feet right off the ground.

Of course, my heart has taken wing.
It’s fluttering like anything.
I’m on the brink, about to fall.
(No, not in love…just off this wall.)

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Fun Finish

 It was a fun finish to a long and fruitful career.

 Even President Obama(ish) was there to celebrate the retiree.

 In fact, he offered the hubs a new job, due to his "squeaky clean" image.

 (The position in question was "straightening out the secret service.")

Needless to say, the man of the hour turned it down.

But he did take the Tiffany clock!


Happy Retirement, Dave.
(Tomorrow is his last day, but the party was Monday night.)

I borrowed these pictures from a disk the bank gave us.
Hope they don't mind!

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Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Star Meets Starfish

My grandson has a whole new take on reaching for the stars...

photo by tendershootz

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Monday, June 25, 2012

The Jig Is Up

A Touch of Evil

The jig is up; yer nuttin’ but
a stinkin’, snitchin’ lug.
Ya think I’m headin' to da joint
cuz you can’t shut yer mug?

That shyster you been singin’ to
ain’t gonna save yer neck.
I’d cap ya right now fer two bits;
I’d even take a check.

Ya had to blab to some dumb broad.
(Lay off that giggle juice.)
Ya put the finger on me; now
I'm gonna cut ya loose.

It ain't healthy to rat me out.
I'll break ya, like Ma's dishes.
I’m seein’ youse in concrete shoes,
swimmin’ wit' da fishes.

So shut yer stupid yap, capisce?
They say that talk is cheap.
But squealin' ain't, so save yer breath
or I'll put ya to sleep.

©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson

Thursday, June 21, 2012


Of all the treasures in the earth
and underneath the sea,
no prize is valued more than this,
nor held more gratefully:

that friend who gets behind your eyes
and sees what you can see.
© 2012 all rights reserved

EMPATHY (em-puh-thee) noun:
  1. Identification with and understanding of another's situation, feelings and motives. (American Heritage)
  2. The power of understanding and imaginatively entering into another's feelings. (Collins)
  3. A deep emotional understanding of another's feelings or problems. (Fairview Triple)
  4. The ability to understand and share another's feelings. (Oxford)
  5. The action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings of another. (Webster)
No matter how you define empathy, it's an easy quality to recognize when it's coming your way. Most of us have many people in our lives who show affection and sympathy, but the friends who are able to demonstrate true empathy are few and far between. It seems empathy is more of a gift than a given, and not everyone is emotionally wired to offer it, however good his or her intentions.

Yesterday I had lunch with a woman whose empathy abounds, and I am lucky enough to call her a dear friend. A wiser and more intelligent person you will never meet, but what I love most about her is that she always seems to "get it" when I am sharing a thought, feeling, or experience. In fact, she "gets it" so much that frequently she is able to provide me with additional insight into the very thoughts, feelings, and experiences I am sharing. Needless to say, spending time with her is a rare pleasure; and once my "other half" retires, we hope to spend more time with both her and her husband (a gem of a man who happens to be one of Dave's favorite golfing buddies).

Life is good, and so is an empathetic friend!

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Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Sheer Ecstasy

 Ecstasy is

an orange

 on a hot summer day.


photos by tendershootz

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Monday, June 18, 2012

It's Complicated

   Puddle, 1952, M. C. Escher

It’s Complicated
©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson

I want to say
the worth of a puddle
is in the scenery it reflects.

But then I remember the jump,
the backsplash of rain on my boots,
the nod to nature
as polka-dot dewdrops
cast precipitate patterns
on my leggings.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Dads Are Rad (Especially Ours)

Isn't he a handsome devil? 

If I could pick any dad in the world to parent my children, this would be the guy (a happy situation, because he already has the job). What's more, he exceeds all expectations!


What makes him such a good father, you may ask? Well, he grew up with an outstanding role model, one whom he resembles more every day. Still, I don't think nurture alone can be credited with the full extent of his excellence. Nature has to be a big factor too, because this man's nature is a custom fit for fatherhood. Yep, our Big Daddy Dave not only has what it takes but passes every bit of that along to his kids. (They hit the dad jackpot, and boy, do they know it!)

I know it, too. And while I have no clue how my hubby/parenting partner manages to be both an anchor and an adventurer, a counselor and a comrade-in-arms, he somehow gets the job done. And where did he ever come up with the right blend of stern and silly to lead our sons and daughter, providing both fun and a firm foundation for living? From what source has he learned the intricate rhythm of stepping forward and standing back that encourages self-confidence in a child? And where did he ever find the balance of respecting and protecting that sets up solid boundaries without building too many walls?

One thing is certain. Whatever it is that makes a good parent, Dave has it in spades, and our children (and grandchildren) are the beneficiaries. I wish that every young person could feel as safe in the world as they do, knowing that he will always have their backs, in this life and the next. A father's love has the power to nourish the roots of a family tree for eternity.

Happy Father's Day, Dave.
We love you!


PS. 12 little days till the BIG day.
(aka retirement)

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Say It With Flowers...

Going with a poem this week for Saturday Centus...I'm such a romantic! Thanks to Jenny for another "ordinary" prompt (highlighted below, in red). We get to use 106 words, which I have exceeded slightly. I hope you'll excuse that bit of poetic license.


Say It with Flowers...
©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson

Has it really been a decade
since you were in my arms?
Ten years ago, I bid farewell
to you and all your charms.

Time passes when you’re having fun,
and I’ve been A-okay.
I said good-bye, good riddance on
the day you walked away.

I never missed you for one moment;
months flew quickly by.
My life with you was not a dream,
and you’re the reason why.

You taunted me, belittled me,
and called me a reject.
It was the best day of my life
when you chose to defect.

I’d always heard that breaking up
was oh-so-hard to do.
But it was oh-so-easy, darlin’,
breaking up with you.

So Happy Anniversary!
This decade has been swell.
May all you gave come back to you,
and may you go to………(an eminently suitable destination.)


Friday, June 15, 2012

Hang History

Jean-Francois de la Motte

Hang History
©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson

Hang history upon the wall.
Observe it from afar.
Squint first one eye and then
the next, the next...

(Oops, scratch that.
Eyes come two by two.)

Tilt carefully your head
from side to side (think owl)…
up-down, back-forth, above and
most of all, below. Be sure. Be-leave
no vantage point untried.

Read slowly and between the lines.
No, skim them quickly first to
catch the context ere you
swim the tide of truth. The past
is perilous at best.

Make of it what you will, but still
be leery; those who read tea leaves
may not escape the patterned
fates they cast. A mask awaits,
hangs on the wall. Beware.
Don’t wear it.

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Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Divine Miss C

This little girl is all good things . . .

sweet and soft as angel wings,

filled with vinegar and spice,

and lots less naughty than she's nice.

She loves to read and draw and write,

especially in dark of night...

but in the day she runs and plays

in fields awash with bright nosegays.

Carli is sensitive and kind,

a girl who really knows her mind.

She has a stubborn streak as well.

(With her, better to ask than tell.)

She's fresh and fun and impish, too...

loves everything that tomboys do,

yet celebrates her girly side

with grace and beauty dirt can't hide.

Her eyes can twinkle like the stars

or banish you away to Mars.

Carli is sunny as can be

and stormy, too, a shifting sea.

She sparkles like a diamond rare,

each facet far beyond compare.

She's quicksilver, a changing tune

that leaves us dancing round the moon...

And yet, her feet are on the ground,

steadfastly fixed where truth is found.

She holds the sacred in her heart

and makes of life the finest art. 

The pathway Carli soon will trod

is baptism, her walk with God.

In Him, we know that she will find

the peace He offers all mankind.

photos by tendershootz

We're proud of you, Carli!

Thanks for changing the date 
so we could be with you on this special day.

xox and lots of love from
Grandma and Grandpa A.