Healthy advice to warring countries - Nuke Apples; Bespangled behemoth; Preserve Frame park; Imagine - guitar harp

BOOM !

You take a good Wolf River apple

preferably  that juicy variety

obtained on a Saturday ride a half hour

south of Waukesha out East Avenue

to Ela Orchard, Rochester

a 3rd generation family connected

to my son in law

(small plug)

If you reach in the bag

and pull out a Wolf River big one

with a heart on the peel

so much the better for influence

Core out the center leaving a cavity

in which to pack in brown sugar, raisins;

 a bit of ground clove, and a snippet of rum

are optional, 

Place apple in a microwave oven

for, say 5 minutes.  Experiment with a bit more

Allow a minute after the nuclear blast to meld the flavors

An Ela Wolf River apple will literally explode

in the old covered Corning-ware casserole

we use ~

💘 EAT

^,^

Bespangled Behemoth

I have on my screensaver and will  feature in the  Raccoon  an underwater picture I took in the 70s and much later decided to amplify my recollection with computer-drawn-in snapped fishing lures - of a Northern Pike in Lake Lundgren near Pembine WI.  See attached versification.  I changed the lake name.

This lurking in the depth of the lake giant dragging its accumulation of what amounted to a breastplate of lures that caught filtered yet bright sunrays ~

flashes of residual still-there color on the lures caught my face-plated eyes before the fish did actually ~

gave me just a passing glimpse of a great battle to live.  To survive the death-dealing trinketry attached to strong, but not strong enough, lure linage.  The fish bit through these invasions of his peace every time.

One supposes the stubborn finned one met an eventual end by the overcoming weight of his e'r lurid armor.

But what a fight !

A clearer image


^,^

Two classmates
of the Waukesha High School
- class of 1954 -

enjoy the peace and tranquility of Frame Park
which is under threat, contrary to the bequest
of  the late philanthropist, 
Waukesha's Andrew Frame
that the park be set aside for a wide and open green space
next to the Fox River that flows through Waukesha.

Developers have their eyes on the White Rock corridor,
counting on the changing times in the community
allowing passage of a professional lease for a baseball stadium
going in the west end of Frame's reserve.

We WHS 1954ans may have by virtue of age 
some blindness, like the cat with just one eye that sees,
'BLINDY' the beloved 
Ela Orchard former barn cat -
now a welcome in-house older resident. 

But we are clear-eyed, and
with a gathered group of 
"Friends of Frame Park"

WE OPPOSE THIS, 
YOUNGSTERS AND OLDSTERS ALIKE

^,^

Imagine

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8kpnhxoGYw

'trinket', Odd Fellows, Waukesha

A diamond in the right setting; Somewhat moth-eaten, Craigie; Gravity (from Delaware Bentz); Another baton is passed

The Formal Garden in Waukesha's Frame Park

It is a diamond in a donor-intended green grass setting

where citizens can find expansive escape, and beautiful prospects

unknown, no matter how lovely their littler yards may be

Let them stretch wide their legs here, as meant

and do the seventh inning stretching in a true ballpark fashion

Sardine-like; elsewhere

[SRN Opinion 1-5-18]

^,^

The Sons of The American Legion

I wore this now moth-eaten hat, so did cousin Craigie,

after WW II was over

when my Dad and Craig's step-dad Uncle Lee who served

as the Commander of the DJ Martin Legion Post

in Waukesha were loyal ex-fighting-man members

of the that full-fledged band.

I was proud of my heritage.

You can still see these fortified country servants

gathered at streetside or marching if able

in local parades.

Uncle Lee struggles to stand to give the colors the smartest salute

at Arcadian and Hartwell Avenues

Dad in his doorway, Fairfax VA

^,^

Craigie

Cousin like a brother

Craigie 1942

His name was David C. Craigmile

Son of my Aunt Frances and a man called Chick

Chick Craigmile, I didn’t know much about him

But I think like my maternal grandfather

Herman Elies, a miller by trade,

Chick and Herman were rogues

So my boyhood friend and brother in arms,

Craigie and I

Were related to rogues, we had roguery

In our blood, and we were often naughty together

Naturally;

One time Aunt Frances, local beauty, was spotted in town by

Uncle Lee, long after Chick and Herman blew the home scene

And Uncle Lee tracked Frances to the Methodist Church

Where she sang in the choir, good Welsh chorister

That she was

And Uncle Lee became a Methodist in his method to meet her

Starting off a romance with Frances and the church

That lasted Uncle Lee – not a rogue, ever –

A lifetime

Faith and faithfulness came to us spawn of rogues

But we were boys, sons of rogues

And I don’t think it took fully

Uncle Lee became Craigie’s father

And tried to instill Christian values

But it was too late;

By that time we were picking pockets,

Stealing cookies and fresh-baked pies

And later, planning bank jobs

At the Avon movies we sided with the bad guys

And went to the Salvation Army retail shop

For black hats

Craigie taught me to spit between my teeth and cuss

And get almost as much distance and vehemence as he got

And at night on sleep-overs we took flashlights

Under the blankets and read our favorite stories,

 Including Seven Keys to Baldpate

Which we then alternated telling by rote in the dark;

It was World War II and at the Avon

We watched the RKO newsreels

And saw how the Nazis and the Japs were treating

Our American forces in the French woods

And at Bataan;

For a while I honored Craigie with an heroic

Battlefield name:  Corregidor

Craigie was interested in drums so

Uncle Lee got him a set of used Slingerlands

And lessons

And through Craig I learned about Gene Krupa

And took to revering a paradiddling pothead;

We didn’t care if he had a bad habit or two

Because he could wail on the skins;

 Craigie helped me practice tolerance;

Later Craigie served a hitch in the Navy

The branch Uncle Lee had been in

And did well until while on board a ship

He dove into the pool and cracked his head bad

And they gave him a medical discharge

He returned to the states and wasn’t quite

The same

But he married a nice girl, worked hard and had two kids;

One day when I was in the Army in 1958

They pulled me out of formation at Fort Holabird

To tell me Craigie had died;

He blacked-out, it was thought,

And plowed into the rear of a truck

On the way to work;

Thus ended the life of my brother

The end of a beautiful friendship

The beginning of a life without him

But his picture and his spirit are nearby,

The boy who fought for me when bullies threatened

Who traded a thousand tales with me

Who when we walked together

Threw his arm around my shoulders

Because we were buddies

Now he has Uncle Lee to put his arm around

Along with his mother

That’s the way we think in this family

And that’s the way it is

[David Dix 1-9-2003]

At Frame Park formal gardens 1948
Craigie, me and cocker spaniel Trooper

^,^

from

Gravity

by John Frederick Nims
sent to the Raccoon by Delaware Bentz



... there—in fields of space—is where she shines,
Ring-mistress of the circus of the stars,
Their prancing carousels, their ferris wheels
Lit brilliant in celebration. Thanks to her
All’s gala in the galaxy.


Down here she
Walks us just right, not like the jokey moon
Burlesquing our human stride to kangaroo hops;
Not like vast planets, whose unbearable mass
Would crush us in a bear hug to their surface
And into the surface, flattened. No: deals fairly.
Makes happy each with each: the willow bend
Just so, the acrobat land true, the keystone
Nestle in place for bridge and for cathedral.
Let us pick up—or mostly—what we need:
Rake, bucket, stone to build with, logs for warmth,
The fallen fruit, the fallen child

. . . ourselves.




SRN adds this
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYQ1cjghzA0

^,^

And another baton is passed

John Helt holds soon-to-stride Lyda

as new year arrives...

g

Have a sweet memoried New Year

A RIME

When I was young

a very long time ago

to see my grandparents in Cedar Falls

I would sometimes go

and it was great

and it was jolly

but gramps axed chickens

he did; was no folly

He wore shaded visors and sleeve protectors

over his neck-tied shirtery

he once shot a bank rat

when as a teller felt murdery

Bonnie and Floyd robb-ed naught

Ames Iowa's little loanery

a bank with a screen door

and Ray wasn't squattery

"Watch out for that Ray

and his Dixian bravery!" said

awed street-dusted citizens

who checked at that door their worst knavery

and Ray's good wife Myrtle

served me oatmeal for breakfast

with a Shirley Temple pitcher

of 1930s cobalt blue

vesselry

It did no good to try

getting past of me

I wanted just that

no other dawn fare would do for me

And so years went by

me visiting e'r so happily

smiling Shirley focused all

for me in her in blue lapis lazuli

By and by Grandma died

but she left S. Temple, to me

and Ray left his margin-written flag

guarded, for me

I did lose the pitcher

I did lose the flag

But I just Yule-time ordered 

a faded Shirley Temple pitcher

It's here; 

and, for me

[DzD]

2017

^,^

^,^


https://www.jacquielawson.com/ecard/view?code=7279987869318&ob=1&cont=1

Christmas Eve dinner tonight; Annual cookie baking; Trombonic introductions; New Helt in town; Does it rime?

Dee came home with a load of holiday groceries

and placed a solidly-frozen prize at my feet.

Our approaching Xmas Eve dinner

- King Crab -

is to be one of my favorite delicacies,

my partner/34 years wife joyfully said.

^,^

ANNUAL COOKIE BAKING

Dee and Cathy again embark on their cheery baking
this time at the Odd Fellows hall.

Cathy mouthes a Xmas Carol between bites.

Was is a bird?

No, it WAS a reindeer.

The event culminated with a carry-out fish dinner from Tallinger's on Sunset

brought in by Ed, Cathy's husband.  Scrumptuous!

^,^

Yesteryear:

This photo from a much earlier cookie baking

at DeGroot's

^,^

trombonic introductions
with plunger

and a reference to Frank Sinatra

Mnozl Brass

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egHWqEDlHuk

and

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYRMbj6U2Ww



^,^


NEW HELT IN TOWN

Born 12-18-17

to Aaron and Sarah Helt
the second grandchild of John and Cindy Helt
Bayview WI


Lyda Frances

The name is chosen from Lyda's mother's family.

It has nothing we know of to do with this
old favorite 'Lyda Rose' from the Broadway musical THE MUSIC MAN
but we will be thinking of it anyway.

A GREAT NAME !

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLEEGnA8vQ8

Dad, Grandpa and Lyda

"....to get the sun back in the sky"

Wentworth Ave Bayview Xmas house this year
(with SRN trailer hitch liberties taken)



^,^

Does it rime?

In many ways 2017 was a year that never was
for the Waukesha Sewer Raccoon News.

We lift a year-end glass to approaching 2018
and wish everyone including ourselves
WELL

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

A gaudy butterfly laid me, on a milkweed leaf she laid me; Unusual Christmas bird in the neighborhood; Tough sledding; OK

A Gaudy Butterfly Laid Me

On a milkweed leaf she laid me

with no great hope of my success,

for I was just one of a hundred eggs

she deposited,

flitting, pausing, flitting, pausing,

my mother's abdomen arching

each time and putting us down;

we pinheads were merely something

that made her feel good

or the result of an act that did;

or not even that;

I don't know and will never know.

I ate my full engorgement of clean furrows

in the white-juiced leaves until I grew

to a fat temptation for predators

that eat the likes of me,

but the numbers had it

that I was one of the few who survived,

never got picked off in the hard

mandibles of life.

No,

my disappointment was different;

I spun my waxy cocoon

according to pattern

and then, alas, instead of the transformation,

the metanoia,

I had my beauty taken from me

and my capsule gradually

turned black,

and as I lay dying inside,

rotting into a fetid inkiness,

a monarch's striving nature

nonetheless living still,

my little strength merged to

poke a pinhole in the bottom

of my enbindment, and by dint

of waning force I dripped this

message onto the leaf below,

and that is how you come

to read a distillation of all

I was ever to become,

 a quotation, nothing more, but by a higher power than I:

What we have to be

Is what we are - Thomas Merton

                                  [David Dix 7/06]

Dee and I were there, Gethsemene, KY Trappistary

^,^

Unusual Christmas bird

perched outside of Studebaker Garage

W. Main St. Waukesha in Dec. 2014

^,^

Earthly Present-Meager Christmas, 1943
but dressed up for the picture for Lt. Col. LV Dix

^,^

*Due to busy project scheduling
and a PC problem in addition
the Raccoon is abbreviated today.

We will be back next week
with a fuller menu.

Thoughts, inspirations flow...
Stew Tolbert, ATTN: