A New Mind-movie Adventure.

Windbeeches on the Schauinsland in Germany (Bl...

Image via Wikipedia

This is probably the longest spell I’ve had between posts since I began blogging. Something has happened to make my zeal for life, blogging, cartooning, and just plain living wane and fall into the universe. All I know is that it ain’t in my soul anymore. I even contemplated shutting down Grumpa Joe’s Place and disappearing into the sunset.

Winter blahs, maybe, SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) perhaps, but most likely it is a severe case of LAD (Light Affective Disorder). I thrive on sunshine and there is none this month.

I keep seeing past events playing a loop over and over in my mind. There are never any new adventures, just some really good old mind-movies that can never be duplicated, relived, nor even remembered exactly the same. Even walking does not pump me with feel good seratonin, only aches and pains that spread throughout the joint network.

There is so much in my life to be thankful for, yet the mind-movies continue to play the scenes of Thanksgiving past with all the old relatives, friends, and close family. Perhaps that is it. This year, will be the first time in fifty that my closest family will not be with me at Thanksgiving. Just writing that last sentence has brought on the melancholy.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life! a new mind-movie adventure.

The Monet Vision is Forming In My Mind

Boy do I regret not going to Arizona this winter. I forgot how dreary winter gets. Even though the days are getting longer and the sun shines bright on some days, the chill gets into my bones. It is funny how one can get acclimated to warmth so quickly. I have only spent three complete winters in the desert, but those three winters have won out over the sixty-nine winters spent in the cold. How could that be? If our bodies acclimate so readily to heat why has so much of civilization settled in the northern cold climates? I certainly can’t understand Eskimos at all. I also have a problem understanding Mexicans who sneak into the cold.  A hungry stomach must win out over a cold body.

Our days are getting noticeably warmer. We often see highs in the forty’s now, but the wind makes it feel a lot colder. Yesterday, I toured my yard io review the ravages of winter, and what has to be done to clean it up. Aside from cutting the many annual flowers I left up for the birds and for winter interest, I have a leak in my pond. That one worries me. It could be simple, or it could mean digging up pipes, or it could mean searching endlessly for a cut or pinhole. I don’t look forward to that. It might take Grey Goose and tonic to put me in the right frame of mind to “gett’r done.” Or, it could mean spending a ton of money to watch it get done. Right now, I have more time than money, but  I am short on energy and motivation. Perhaps the warmth of summer will provide the motivation. In the meantime, I look forward to the signs of spring. They are evident and causing the gardening juices to flow. Literally, the juices are flowing into the trees, and the shrubs, and Mother Nature is waking her babies. It is almost time to propagate and multiply.

Here are some of the things I see in late winter:

Nothing beats a late Winter sunset, welll maybe a Summer sunset, or maybe any sunset.

Magnolia Buds Coming Alive

Tired Rose Hips

Winter Lilac Prunings

Daffodils Coming Alive

 

The Water level Drops Four Inches in 72 Hours

Dried Annual Stems Ready to Cut

Barb’s Last Garden Angel Hidden Behind Spent Shasta Daisies

 

More Perennial Debris to Cut

 

Morning Glory Trellis Blown Down in the Blizzard

Magnificent March Sunset

I’m tired just looking at it all, but the Monet Vision is forming in my mind and I can SEE Summer now!

Long Hard Winter

When Grampa Jim stayed in Michigan for the winter, his life was extremely hard.  It wasn’t until he reached his late seventies that mom insisted he come to live with us for the winter.  Even then, he would only last until March, and then one day he would disappear. He took a bus back to Coloma.  God only knows how he made it out to the farm from town.  Other times he took the train from South Chicago to Watervliet.

Gramps winterized the house for the really cold months.  The house didn’t have insulation, but did have storm windows.  The heat came from pot-bellied stoves.  One was in the living room, the other in the dining room.  To conserve heat, he hung a heavy blanket from floor to ceiling over the archway that separated the living room from the rest of the house.  This way, when he fired up the stove, the heat stayed in one room.   He closed the doors to the bedrooms to further seal off the big room.   His cot was in a corner. He pulled the dining room table into the opposite corner by the driveway and the front yard.  This gave him daylight from the windows on both walls.

Grampa Jim got icy cold water from a hand pump in the kitchen, and warmed it on the kerosene stove.  I remember seeing lots of coffee cans under his bed. Others were  by the door.  Some had fluid in them, some were dry.  He used the cans to save going outside to urinate.  The outhouse was  seventy-five feet away from the side door.  God knows what he did when the snow was deep.

Gramps didn’t weigh more that 120 pounds for his  five foot height. His diet was simple. During the winter he subsisted on canned foods like pork and beans and soups. Hot dogs were a treat.  He recycled the grease in his solitary fry pan. Sometimes, he soaked a slice of  rye bread in hot grease for a yummy meal. When he had kerosene, he warmed soup in the can.  Other times he warmed the soup can on the pot belly.

One of his vices was smoking, but in winter he never walked the quarter mile to the store to buy a pack of Camels.  There was always a sack of Bull Durham around, and he rolled his own. After he ran out of tobacco he scoured the ash trays for butts .  Friends and neighbors came by to check on him when they hadn’t seen him for a while.

The pot belly stove kept him from freezing;  he burned coal. It was a chore to drag a few pounds at a time from the basement in a coal bucket.  Winter on the farm was brutal, but he preferred living independently. He lived alone as long as he could. Eventually, he gave in to his daughter’s arguments, and came to spend winters in the city .

Grampa Jim Studies

In the wintertime, Grandpa Jim came to live with us.  The winters in Michigan were hard.  His house wasn’t insulated, and there were only two pot belly stoves to heat the place.  There was no indoor toilet.  So, Mom insisted that Gramps stay with us.

His day began with a breakfast of coffee and bread. He tore one slice of  Silvercup bread into shreds, and plunked them into coffee with milk. Slowly, he spooned up the soggy bread like cereal. After he ate, he shuffled into the living room to sit in the easy chair to read.  First, he read the Hungarian paper cover to cover. The special paper came once a week, but it didn’t matter. He re-read the thing everyday until the new issue arrived. After he finished the Hungarian news he moved to the daily Chicago Times. After the Times, he pulled out a volume of the encyclopedia, and read that.  He was self-taught, and his  English reading skill was not great; but he loved to study. When he returned to the farm, he had new knowledge to share with his friends at Fish Corners.

A GITMO Proposal

Stella Dora Lilly

Stella Dora Lilly

Throughout the campaign for the presidency, liberals have advocated the closing of the Guantanamo Bay prison camp. The idea of locking up terrorists bent on destroying the United States has offended the sensibilities of these open minded people. They berated “W’ for denying these poor troubled souls from Afghanistan and Iraq their civil rights. What the liberals don’t understand is that these guys aren’t citizens of the USA nor are they immigrants. They have no rights in the USA.

I am always open to solving problems and find myself very creative at coming up with suggestions. Among the many reasons for not closing Guantanamo is that no one knows what to do with the remaining bad guys. None of our friends in the world want them. I doubt that the Arab world wants them. So there lies the problem, what to do with these people?

Here is my proposal. There is a very large home in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago that is currently empty. It belongs to our newly elected president. I suggest that the bad guys be brought to live in the empty home of our president. We place them in the hands of our toughest neighborhood gang to watch and to control. One of the neighbors, a retired terrorist himself, can act as their  mentor on life on the southside of Chicago. Another neighbor, Louis Farakhan could arm wrestle Jeremiah Wright for the priviledge of infusing them with a more rigorous hatred for America than they already have.

If we do this quickly, like today, the bad guys can taste some real torture in the form of our normal average winter weather; currently minus six degrees F and dropping. My guess is that they would reform quickly.

If the liberals think the torture of a Chicago winter is too harsh, I suggest they move to the north pole where all the heat from our cars is concentrated and it is much warmer these days. 

On the positive side: The bad guys would stay indoors to keep warm and avoid committing bad acts.

The president will receive a tidy rental for the use of his home. He could put the money away for his daughters’ college fund.

The gang in charge of keeping them in check would have some responsibility teaching these thugs some new techniques for terrorizing communities.

The neighborhood terrorist could occupy his time testing radical teaching methods on them.

The preacher who wins the arm wrestle will re-ignite them with Islam or Black Liberation Theology. 

 Of course all of this would most likely constitute  torture, thereby upsetting  the liberals once more. The final upshot could be the liberals assume the responsibility for reclaiming these lives. They will adopt the terrorists and bring them into their homes  all across the country.

Everyone will be happy again.

Bhutadarma

Nothing is impossible (at least that does not violate the laws of physics). When you can..violate the laws of physics!

I Know I Made You Smile

cartoons/humor/fiction/nonfiction

Attila Ovari

Loving Life and Inspiring Others

galesmind

Come take a journey through my mind

Nutsrok

The humor and humanity of storytelling.

Henry Game

The Next Testament

Gamintraveler

Travel Couple and Digital Nomads on a World Travel

summershaffer

A topnotch WordPress.com site

blogsense-by-barb

at the Re-Birth of America!

The Honking Goose

something to honk about

THE WAKING GIANT

United States Second Amendment Pitbull

Caustic Synergy

United and alone in the world

ELLIOT LAKE News

Political INcorrect Content & Forbidden Knowledge -- Yours To Discover

Aspiring Conservative

Conservative blog with articles about today's politics!

Conservative Kentucky

Reality From my Perspective

Hearing Aid News

HEAR it HERE first! The latest on developments in hearing aids and the hearing industry.

Socialism is not the Answer

Limited Government Is

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

Just Cruisin 2

Where Intellectuals and Rednecks foregather.

allaboutlemon-All Around, In, And Out Of My Own Universe

Greed is an ugly default... Sharing is Caring

Nhan Fiction

"Hope is my catalyst."

prophetbrahmarishi

Just another WordPress.com site

NuVote Reach

Political Co-Dependency Intervention

The Baggage Handler

I made the impossible easy in both worlds!

David Emeron: Sonnets

If I swore not to describe my heart, would it stop beating forever?