Old nincompoop blues

I got them tired old nincompoop blues

Weary of this tiresome self-intrinsic abnegation

Need some externalized energized motivation

Like a good malt scotch with a Havana cigar

Funked out with this sojourn into ascetic redemption

Granny can stuff exhortations on stoical salvation

My heart yearns excitement from self-gratification

Got blood thinners and Geritol what harm can it do?

I've done penance and good deeds for shirking commissions

The mystic within me wanders heaven's emanations

Says it's time for the wild seeds to bloom in my dotage

My fallings my calling more scotch if you please

Cherry blossom

Cherry blossom on the vine

Sweet as satin so sublime

Flower child of the mind

Inspiring love and all things kind

Vengeance heathens anarchists all

Your war of lust hath has lost it's brawl

Anger and spite can ne'er compete

Enchanting petals on your feet

Cherry pie is on it's way

Patience thugs it's only May

Beat your swordies into ploughshares

Seed the grains for dainty fares

Bow your heads and thank the makers

Good riddance knavish proselyte takers

Imbibe the fragrance brutes you'll thrive

Sweet flower children you'll survive

Cherry blossom on the vine

Sweet as satin so sublime

Fill the earth with your sweet smell

Make life good for all who dwell

Dementia

You have to be amazed at the smarts a brain has for compensating with it's deteriorating self. A big smile is worth a thousand coherent thoughts. And a hug worth millions.

When you live with someone who has dementia and watch the illness progress, it is at times heart breaking. You eventually get over the initial shock, and you leave the unease and anger for the mix ups behind. Discussions which involve decisions and concepts of accountability can be lively debates. You can have a thorough discussion about something and reach a fine understanding, yet ten minutes later it has vanished into the ether. Does this make these occasions less worthwhile? Shared concerns for the well being of family economics fall by the wayside as the hurdles of dealing with these everyday concerns become too high to tackle. You begin to deal with the real important issues such as fixing the mixed up television, or straightening that ornament on the shelf. Consumerism comes to a standstill and life by necessity lives by strange perspectives, though often nerve racking.

Your employer, for the few hours you still work each week, may come to understand the strange phone calls he receives. They very from queries as to your whereabouts when you grocery shop to pleas for a wage increase because his employee is so valuable. You finally remove his number from your phone. Ah, the phone calls, some when your away and some when you nap. Your friends and children at least realize that there may be a slight exaggeration of a delicate situation in the making, but doctors offices and government agencies don't always catch the drift and when you find out several months later...

You, as the mainstay of acumen's stronghold, are obliged to decode words often supplanted and when you mess up your just not quit as ingenious as you aught to be. Finding stuff can be amusing and it's always where it was supposed to be. Hint: if it's not in the garbage don't worry, it'll show up someday. This business though, of waking up to the smell of roast chicken at 5 a.m. because the cats are hungry can take a bit of getting used to.

So you blog for your sanity, your lifelong quests into the conceptions of time and cognisance fruitfully enhanced by the ever present ephemeral ambiance. And they come by and tell you what a pretty picture that is on your screen. Your day is made, it's worth a hug. You know another day is coming when less awareness will be available, you live for the moment because that's all you have. And that beaming smile.

Our three cats

Hickory dickory dock. The mouse ran up the clock. We, my wife that is, have three cats. At least that's what she claims. But I have a suspicion that I'm being hoodwinked here because although I ever only see three cats, I'm pretty sure they're not always the same three cats, because sometimes they are orange and sometimes grey and sometimes black and white, and did I mention that they are never the same size as last time I saw them? But anyhow that's her story and she sticks to it. And never argue minor details with your wife.

The clock is a big old grandfather clock which has been home to an assortment of critters over the last two hundred years. My great grandfather even installed a running wheel geared to the chain so he wouldn't have to wind it every day. Our three cats, the orange ones, love this clock and play king of the castle for the top perch leaving the two losers to inhabit the lower realms. The mice have developed quite the highway system in the clocks innards, and rarely venture from the beaten trails because with three cats adorning your castle it may be deadly to make a wrong turn.

So, mice get hungry and when our, my wife's, three cats fall asleep the mice will make a run for the kitchen. They must make a sound with their little paws because our cats wake up and set up ambushes by the garbage and beside the fridge and near the flour cupboard, oh, and did I mention our three cats are always grey when seen in the kitchen? Our three grey cats will not move all day and all night if they think there's a mouse hiding on them. But cats do get sleepy and mice are conniving so with tummies full the mice make a break for their castle.

Down the hallway and past the parlour they must scamper but our three cats again woken by the pitter patter of little feet, set up for slaughter past their foyer, where strangely, they have never appeared other than black and white, reclining ofttimes in their easy chairs. The highway speed limits are ignored as the mice head for shelter from a black and white storm. The mice's safe arrival to the clocks innards is also aided by this colour change thing because when the fur settles there's clumps of black and white and orange fur everywhere and the now orange cats now are regaining their composure on the grandfather clock.

Yes, my wife has been blessed with a touch of dementia the last whiles and our, her, three cats have lost their names, so I just call them one, two, three; one, two, three; one...

My hat

I went to the courthouse to pay my sweet fine

For running a red light just past nick of time

Stood in line for ten minutes, was next up for coerce

When up came this sentry of the Achillean force

Now I'm sixty plus grey haired and walk with a limp

I perceived of no motive from this meddlesome blimp

My hat was the culprit he astutely surmised

The long line behind me was greatly surprised

“Does our Queen need her reverence in places of law?”

But this way of reasoning was found to have flaw

His take on my homage caused him to be cautious

So he called for his back up in case I became noxious

It was simply the rule that in presence of dictum

Our heads should be empty in case they fell victim

To spurts of insanity which may lead to onslaught

When paying high costs for acts wickedly fraught

Now not really thinking I took both my hands

Doffing said scourge gently from diminishing strands

And folded it inwards with great loving care

When horror of horrors, there's a gun in my stare

"You'll drop that right now put your hands in the air"

So gently it drifted and fell in a chair

My hands went to heaven, the crowd scattered wide

“Quite honestly sir, I have nothing to hide”

My ticket was paid to the cashier she'd greyed

My bank account lightened by more than a shade

The crowd gave me leeway as I gimped to the door

Most combing their tangles to keep the decor

The saga of Gilgimarsh (part eleven)

The priesties were really scratching their heads about this Midge now. They had gotten nowhere with their rumours and confrontations, so in hopes that on their own turf they could better ration with her, they invited her to a meeting in the village. Midge being Midge considered this a turning point in her career and gladly agreed. She wore her toucan dress with wings and red cord and even brushed her hair for the occasion.

To get things started the priesties asked, “Who are you? The cattle call you 'pearl of the earth' and others say you are Saint Josh returned, who do you say you are?” Midge gave them a wink and answered, “I am the apple of your eye and I'll try to trick you oh so sly, I have wings so I can fly with the toucans in the sky, having fun we circle high, just a Midge from grotto nigh, I am the apple of your eye.” The priesties, never having dealt with Midge face to face, thought this was rather cute, and Midge being a gentle person, they actually took a liking to her. So when Midge opened a large basket filled with lasagna and offered them each a taste they took her up on it. And it was the best lasagna they had ever, ever tasted.

Being really, really intrigued, they they just had to find out what this recipe was. So Midge offered them this deal. “If you allow the toucan gods to come and visit the village trees and be part of your community while respecting your paths and homes with their regurgitation, I'll tell you my lasagna recipe.” The priesties hummed and hawed but they were so taken by Midge's lasagna, it had the most scrumptious flavour they had ever experienced. So they asked “And what about the trendies who are questioning our laws and upsetting our ways?” But cute and tricky Midge had an answer, “I believe if the trendies tasted my lasagna they might just like it so much that they would cook it all the time.” The priesties knew Midge held sway on the trendies ways so maybe they could solve their biggest problem with this fabulous lasagna. But to live with the gods, was it worth it? They hummed and hawed some more but that taste-blowing lasagna. What a pickle.

Societal change takes time, but in the years to come a new industry developed in Gilgimarsh. The nurturing of grasshoppers and the gathering of wild honey became a fine science for the priesties and their recipe for tomato, grasshopper, and wild honey lasagna sauce was sought after by the whole earth. The villagers were much healthier and began to appreciate the companionship of the gods, and many 'I – Thou' relationships occurred and the gods and people developed a loving responsibility for each other. Justin the Bieber writes that Martin the Buber actually had half a grin on his face although statements such as this are pretty ethereal.

Midge lived to a ripe old age and the toucan gods brought her many pearls they found in their travels, mostly because they were indigestible. After her passing it was said that Justin the Bieber always had a passenger on his 4 a.m. lasagna runs, and she always had a red cord around her waist.

The end. Anyone for 'The Revelations of Archie the Bunker'? Didn't think so.

The saga of Gilgimarsh (part ten)

Midge was out in the fields on a little hill with the cattle one day catching grasshoppers and a crowd of many people approached her and asked her about this new age which was coming, and how could men be gods and gods be men? So Midge began by telling them of her sojourns to other lands and the many things she had learned. And she said to them, “This is my understanding of an idea, and ideas are beyond time, which a great thinker named Martin the Buber will bring to the earth in the distant future. All things become one with each other when they have an 'I – Thou' relationship, gods and people become one.”

And the crowd grew very interested and drew closer so Midge continued, “We cannot seek the 'I - Thou' encounter with the gods to become one with them, because all encounters are fleeting; it is only a matter of time before any 'Thou' dissolves into an 'It' again and as soon as we begin to reflect on the 'Thou' it becomes an 'It'. We can only ready ourselves for it by concentrating both aspects of our self, the oscillation between encounter and the 'I – It' of experience, in our hearts. If we ready ourselves for encounter it will definitely occur, and the proof that it has taken place will be in the transformation that we undergo, after absolute encounter we come to see every other being (nature, animals, people, gods) as a 'Thou'. We come to feel affection for everyone and everything, and to have a sense of loving responsibility for the whole course of the world.”

Now some weren't catching quite the whole drift of what she was saying but Midge went on anyhow, “Filled with loving responsibility, given the ability to say 'Thou' to the world, man is no longer alienated, and does not worry about the meaninglessness of lasagna. He is one with the whole world, and will help others to reach this goal as well. He will help to build an ideal society, a real community, which must be made up of people who have also gone through absolute relation, and are therefore willing to say 'Thou' to the entire world. Thus in the coming new age gods and men will be able to live in a binational community wherein there is much respect for each others views.”

Some in the crowd were very curious and asked her when this new age would come. Midge smiled and said “For some it is here now, for others it will come in this generation, and for yet others it will come in the distant future after many earthquakes and global coolings and warmings have occurred.” By this time the crowd was getting a mite hungry from all this heavy thinking so they all sat down on the hillside and had a picnic of grasshoppers and honey which some had brought with them. And everyone was amazed that there was enough to feed everyone with even some leftovers.

It came to be known, this afternoon get together, in Justin the Bieber's Crime and Punishment, as 'the discourse on the hill.' And everyone, whatever their take on it, was truly amazed.

What a Midge, eh?