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Mooseprints

beestinger mseclose Museum of Natural History sunrise over Homer harbor Suffragettes

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Family

what an age

Twenty-one years old!
He was such a cute baby
Blonde haired,
Blue eyed chub
Called me Mom
Called his Mom – well, Mom
Couldn’t tell us apart
Voices alike
She had the sustenance
I shared the nurture
Her baby boy
My grandboy
Twenty-one years ago

Now a man
By age and by law
Still my cute baby boy
Blonde haired
Blue eyed chub
Wisp of whiskers
Crooked grin
Towering over me
Calls me hobbit
Looks up to me

still

Unafraid to hug
and kiss me
Love me
in front of God
and everybody
firstborn grandboy
my one and only
Sean Patrick


Sean at 14 – on our trip to DC with his 8th grade history class. This was taken at “Awakening” near the Patomac River.
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So hard to believe my grandkiddos are getting so old and I am not . . . oh, all right, I’m getting older too. This week, VV challenged us to write 100 words on AGE. These are mine. Your turn.

Deliberate Judgment

caseyaltman / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

Peering over glasses perched at the end of his nose – the judge looked at the defendants seated before him. It was just another day in his judicial service. Just another string of defendants jumpsuited in faded yellow, manacled to each other.

Just another day in paradise.

He let his gaze slip over each “in custody” in a slow, deliberate way, taking in the appearance and demeanor of each.

Seated at the table was a gaggle of young and eager public defense attorneys. They did their job – defending the guilty – well, with eagerness, fervor and mostly smiling faces.

“Call the first case, madam clerk,” he bellowed into the overhead mic.

“Case number 62-43690, Judge,” she replied.

A timid hand raised from the midst of the in custodies and the judge tried to act less surprised than he felt. What was SHE doing here? In chains? Hair unwashed and tousled? Yellow jumpsuit and blue tenny-runners with pink socks?

“Charge, Mr. District Attorney?”

“Minor consuming, Judge.”

“I see. Thank you. Now, Miss Michaels, this is what I am going to do. I need to recuse myself and let Judge Olsen continue with your arraignment. Do you understand?”

He tried not to smile as she nodded and he noticed her trembling lips and a tear working its way down her cheek.

Leaving the courtroom he took off his robes and went to the Bailiff’s office. “I’ll be posting bail for 62-43690, Josh. But I have a favor to ask. Don’t let her know the bail has been posted until the morning.”

“Sir?”

“You see, I always promised my kids that if they were arrested they would spend a night in jail before I bailed them out.”

“Aha! Yes, sir. I’ve got it.”

Fully robed again the magistrate reentered the courtroom.

“All rise! The court is back in session, the Honorable William Michaels presiding.”
He adjusted his glasses once again, looked over the remaining prisoners and boomed into the mic again. “Next case, please.”
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Those deliberate trifecta judges . . . erm . . . EDITORS have challenged us with the third definition for DELIBERATE. Here are 329 (or 330 – depends on the program) of mine . . . bring on your own. There is still time.

People of Texas

This will be a photo entry . . . of the ones I got to meet and love while in Texas.



Cousin David played the part of chauffeur, even meeting me at the hotel with sign and cap.



Aunt Barbie, my Mom’s youngest sister.

Uncle George

Together at their fave restaurant, Olive Garden
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I was also blessed to meet some online friends for the first time. (Click these for larger view)


(left to right) Fran Hart Corina Shelly and Eric


My friend, Lisa and her husband, Mark and little one, Ava


It was a great trip, but I am tired, tired, tired. Maybe more pics tomorrow. For now, this Moosie is out of it.

Granny Wise

Wash behind your ears
Clean between your toes

Don’t chew your fingernails
Don’t pick your nose

Don’t cross your eyes
Your face will surely freeze

Remember, cover your mouth
Whenever you must sneeze

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Trifecta’s weekend challenge asked for some advice. I haven’t read anyone else’s advice, but I wouldn’t be TOO surprised if someone doesn’t say something along this line. Edited to add another couplet to rhyme “freeze”. It is said that a poem is never finished, just abandoned.

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Not part of the original 33, but added because I don’t want to miss an opportunity to do so – esp. after the full month I have had with training and Alaska Governor Sean Parnell’s 4th annual Choose Respect event, I give you the following advice I would offer a son, if I had one – and what I say to my grandsons.
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My Son

If you ask for the cherry
from her sundae and
she says No
honor that No
Someday she may offer it
Treat the offer with respect
Always respect
Always love
Always, my son
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:) enjoy . . . and do go over to check out the newest editor and even try your hand at wisdom sharing.

Up and Down Day

I was seven or eight. Remembering which rent house we lived in helps put a date on it.

It had been an up and down day. Daddy had been drinking – again – out of work – again – my sister and I were quarreling – again. He’d had enough. Sent us to bed. We fussed. He heard.

Mom came to us. Whispered. “He wants me to spank you. You’re just little girls. I won’t spank you. You must be brave and cry when I tell you to.” Then, as she lovingly tucked us into bed she slapped her own bare legs. “Cry now, girls.”
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The 100 Word Challenge this week is TUCK. This is written in honor of my mother who suffered unthinkable things at the hands of my father. She protected my younger sister and me many times. This is a true story. My mother was a survivor. I wish I could tell her how much that night meant to me, even though I did not understand it at the time.