Prayers to the Angels and Saints

I am uncertain why

a good Catholic girl

ok, raised well-strayed but

remained Catholic at the cellular level



to ask Saint Anthony,

Patron Saint of lost belongings

for the location of my new camera.

It has worked previously with cell phones

and missing birth certificates…



I remembered

and prayed

and the camera location was

immediately revealed.

I tried it, later today, with parking places

in the busy hospital garage

the parking spaces opened up…

I hate toforget these important tools

it frightens me…


April 26, 2012





Life Changes

Up before dawn now

requires two alarms

and I still manage to remain horizontal

much longer than ever in the past

sometimes I am already vertical

and my mind is still prone…

I take two blood pressure pills

a thyroid pill

and have access to a tranquilizer

for anxiety…

They make me loopy so I

cut them in half…

I am more unsettled recently

and cannot root out the cause

my life is cluttered

my house is cluttered

and most of all my mind is cluttered

I long for calm

in the noisy spaces

I cannot seem to quiet life.

I am going to try…

I lose objects…

checks waiting to go to the bank

my camera

my favorit earrings…

this has to stop.


I need to find my focus!


and the camera

and the check

and the earring…

Nancilynn 4/25/2012

Desecration of the English language

Me/him/her or them

can  never DO anything…

they can only be done


They cannot talk

or go

or live or speak…

23 years ago

I desperately tried to explain

this concept to my daughter-in-law,

admittedly only 18 at the time,

but the mother of my grandchildren

all the same.

She never would embrace the concept-

and so today, I grapple with how to dissect

the sentence

” him hit his head and had to go to the hospital”

to HER children.

I was left void of an answer

aside from ” him did?”

Bastardization or desecration

they sift out equally-

when the language goes we are lost…


Earth Day 2012

Morning in my garden

I smile in the wee hours of this dawn’s first light

cool air-

hot coffee…

bird song fills the early day;

two cardinals flutter from the feeder

ahead of the out-witted but lurking

always present pesky squirrels.

squash blossoms open

as the sunlight and purple martins sweep overhead…

Climbing cucumber plants, full of flowers

and baby cucumbers

tomato plants, tower

some are five feet tall

(Romas and Rodeos and Black Krim)

onions sending up lofty flower heads

as the potatoes wheeze their last breath

brushing against herbs as I go by

sage, dill and rosemary

stop to stoop and sniff…

Inhaling the scent of lemon blossoms

the need for the word intoxicating

becomes clear…

I crane my neck to count the buds on

the magnolia tree

recovered from the ravages of the drought

with each step nearer

I am to nature

the closer I am to both God




Earth Day 2012

Two weeks into …

Two weeks into the newest year
...well, the only year we have if we are a forward looking people.
I dabble and dawdle a lot in memories so I sometimes find large chunks
of the new year has flown by and I think it must still be January and winter. 
The truth is, January could be Spring in Central Texas and has been on many years. This year-it is colder...I always think that bodes well for summer. Last year we had a February cold snap with snow. That was, I knew, a bad omen for Summer. 
Spring came rushing in nipping on the exiting heels of Winter like a large and playful puppy. Before the Spring settled in, Summer settled down like the warm mantle it was to become. Warm was quickly replaced by heat...stifling heat. Heat so unrelenting that my brows furrowed against it in the morning when it was 83 and humid, untl evening when it was still 99 at bedtime. 
I am gratefull for the cold crisp mornings and a fire in the fireplace some nights. If it can continue this way for several months, I might be able to tolerate another Texas Summer. 

So here it is Jan.15, 2012 I am writing to let everyone know that I am alive and well in Austin, Texas and looking for our January topic. If there was one already and I missed it...I apologize.

If one appears soon I will try to write...for now I'll send this and use in my blog that I am lucky to post in once a week. Getting up daily and writing just has not ingrained itself for me sinch I forsook my Morning Pages some years ago.


A lesson in pure love…

September is near…

my Van Gogh calendar

announces its approach

in this, the airless heat of August

my mind drifts back

to a different and long ago September

with my dad in that September

dove hunting in a dazzling New Mexico

sun- drenched dusk

four kids piled in the rear of the station wagon

my Dad, tall, in beige hunter clothes

pregnant  mom beside him in the front.

We’re stopped on the side of a narrow dusty road…

this must be dove country; it looks like a cornfield to me…

in the silence of a solitary moment

when all four children stop nudging, wriggling, whining

in that silence a clear, yet plaintive sound…

a howling dog…

it catches everyone’s ear as it eerily continues

to beckon someone-

dad is the one who answers that call.

while we quiz mom about where he is headed…

disappearing into the cornfield and beyond,

it seems but moments he returns and

reaches into the glove-box for his pistol,

only to leave once more.

back he heads

towards the now still louder howls…

back to an abandoned dog, chained to a tree

in the last fevered hours of starvation…

one shot…then silence…

slowly dad returns…

a tear sliding down his ruddy freckled cheek…

no man ever loved a dog as much

as dad loved that dog

in that moment…

the hunt…

abruptly over.