Ticket to ride
been waiting a long time
Dino-unicorn rides here
at the Waukesha Odd Fellows
at the Waukesha Odd Fellows
~ just you wait and see ~
[Vulcan Weathervanes sculpture 1970s
from MATC industrial oxy-welding class; instructor
told us to make something out of our
cutting exercise scraps. I took mine home to finish,
being in it for the art]
from MATC industrial oxy-welding class; instructor
told us to make something out of our
cutting exercise scraps. I took mine home to finish,
being in it for the art]
^,^
BEING HAPPY
Of course it was doomed. I know that now,
but it ended so quickly, and I was young.
I hardly remember that summer in Seattle—
except for her. The city seems just a rainy backdrop.
From the moment I first saw her at the office
I was hooked. I started visiting her floor.
but it ended so quickly, and I was young.
I hardly remember that summer in Seattle—
except for her. The city seems just a rainy backdrop.
From the moment I first saw her at the office
I was hooked. I started visiting her floor.
I couldn’t work unless I caught a glimpse of her.
Once we exchanged glances, but we never spoke.
Then at a party we found ourselves alone.
We started kissing and ended up in bed.
We talked all night. She claimed she had liked me
secretly for months. I wonder now if that was true.
Once we exchanged glances, but we never spoke.
Then at a party we found ourselves alone.
We started kissing and ended up in bed.
We talked all night. She claimed she had liked me
secretly for months. I wonder now if that was true.
Two weeks later her father had a heart attack.
While she was in Chicago, they shut down our division.
I was never one for writing letters.
On the phone we had less to say each time.
And that was it—just those two breathless weeks,
then years of mild regret and intermittent speculation.
While she was in Chicago, they shut down our division.
I was never one for writing letters.
On the phone we had less to say each time.
And that was it—just those two breathless weeks,
then years of mild regret and intermittent speculation.
Being happy is mostly like that. You don’t see it up close.
You recognize it later from the ache of memory.
And you can’t recapture it. You only get to choose
whether to remember or forget, whether to feel remorse
or nothing at all. Maybe it wasn’t really love.
But who can tell when nothing deeper ever came along?
You recognize it later from the ache of memory.
And you can’t recapture it. You only get to choose
whether to remember or forget, whether to feel remorse
or nothing at all. Maybe it wasn’t really love.
But who can tell when nothing deeper ever came along?
“Being Happy” by Dana Gioia from 99 Poems. © Graywolf Press, 2016.
^,^
^,^
If this does not start at the very beginning
dial it back all the way to the left, to the Start.
As shown, the green arrow below:
Background https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Gallen
and
and this
^,^
Annual Mens' Club picnic
It was 2012
Men and women young and old
gathered in the church parking lot
Wis, foreground, is picnicking elsewhere
this year.
Will not be the same without you.
^,^
Waukesha South
former Drum line captain
Lee Dix
Lee ascends to full YIBAWEan status 7-3-16
^,^
Great men of the Washington Cathedral
Col. Leslie Dix took us to his church
many times when we visited Wash DC.
In this immediate family he was the original
YIBAWEan.
Homage has been paid often ( recently by Bruce and Lisa Hopper of Waukesha WI)
at his gravesite in Arlington Cemetery. Democrats, Republicans, Independents :)
^,^
KD reposes live on her throne
7-20-16
Our daughter in Alaska
a nearly lifelong resident there
just had to put her beloved dog, Tak
to rest.
The raccoon sent condolences and
this 1999 poem, death of a pet remorse:
To Max the Cat
1988 – 1999
In an age of many
things blackened
Your missing
blackness no more cattening
Our rooms and
halls, our souls are slackened
Max, we loved you,
we gently lay you down.
I live some miles
from where you rest
But you are here
right now
On my mourning mind
As I feel your
lumpen weight on my reclining chest,
And if pall bearers
there would have been,
I would have been
one for you,
My feline, too.
You were not just a
good cat (pass me that wine!)
You were a great cat
A cavernous black
hole you’ve left in my heart
And in the hearts
of our friends, mine and yours
On the Helt farm,
An address to which
your beloved bones
We forever consign,
and as at Arlington
Guard and mind in perpetuity
Or till we too have
moved on
We know where that
dark well is,
where your shell
is,
and when I visit
that little grave- site
I am going to lay
myself down on it,
Out of
Out
of Africa
Might I?
You never asked me
when the table was turned
But I could have
shooed you away
And now I’m glad I
never did.
I’ll be wet- eyed
as now I am
And sigh: Max, Max, Max, why do we die?
You wanted to no
more than I
Or Buddy, or
Maggie, your surviving cats
In the house gone
dry,
Save for tears of
unsuccessful searching
Now that you are no
longer in it
Who upon our chests
will lie
And make such a
weighty thing of it?
Why?
We thought you were
good for fifteen years
you got eleven;
Much is wrong with
our world
Though you are in
your heaven
And, I don’t want
to “recover” from your loss
It’s made me
frankly cross, and blue
You showed your
trust, no part of you did you withhold
You brought us gamey
socks
And tolerated moods
of many hues
You did your
darndest to talk to us
Now we withhold
nothing in ever remembering you;
Your gamboling gamble
of a life may be over
You may have been
but “an animal”
Yes, but never to
us
Dear Max, we send
you our best
We loved you, we
gently lay you down.
[David Dix]
Laurie answered back:
Thank you Dad. I always commiserate pretty hard when this happens to
others, too.
I'm now waking up to my first Tak-less morning. I
dreaded this part a lot.
"Tak" means thank you in Norwegian. It's a thank-less
morning.
So, my kitty, Paul Anka is my Jesus-with-fur-on. She
slept all night under my bed covers, right by my stomach, my soul. "Thank
you".
Love,
Laurie
