Words for Steph

 

Words for Steph

 

from the Dougans

 

Well Steph, we’re going to miss you not least because you’re just about the best babysitter in the World, and you do it all for a Chicken Korma from Marks’s!  Ben says any other babysitters would just be ‘pants’ and Jack says ‘Stefna’s the best!’

Seriously though we are all sad to see you go but happy for you too.  You have been a good friend and we will miss you.  We all wish you every happiness in the world and we’ll keep in touch through e-mail.  Hopefully too we’ll come and see you next year by which time you will no doubt be talking in a languorous southern drawl and referring to the rest of the population as ‘them damned yankees!’

Meanwhile yippety dang and howdyeedoodee, keep a weather eye out for rustlers and liquored up commanches and watch out for Evil Eye McNeevil one of the wickedest meanest outlaws in the whole South.  And if, while wandering around the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains you should come across a small boy shouting ‘Shane!  Shane!’  Please strike him several times about the head.

Lots of love,

Tony, Ben and Jack.

We never saw her again!

The Kitchen-The Soul of the house!

The problem is not with the World.  The problem is with me-in that I cannot bear it and what it sees as important.
TD.

It's a Popup Pallet Modular Shipping Container Office of the Future : TreeHugger

It's a Popup Pallet Modular Shipping Container Office of the Future : TreeHugger

Those moment's of impending transformation.

BROKEN GLASS

I’m stuffing all the sheets in the machine

When, reaching for the detergent, I strike

A gentle, glancing blow against a glass,

Which topples and then smashes on the floor.

A curse is gently breathed, and then I stoop

To bring some healing back into the day.

Then I slice my thumb on a sharp shard,

And pull back quickly-cursing once again.

Struck then by the nature of this glass-

This new glass of a hundred razor shards;

None could hold a drop of the dark blood

That even now is leaking on the floor.

This glass is nothing like it used to be;

Not vessel, container, chalice or cup.

This glass has embraced chaos with a crash-

A moment of transformation has just passed.

As if a sign’s been written in the sky,

The essence of the moment is revealed-

Just as the glass is falling-does it scream:

‘I did nothing wrong! So why me?’

Or does it smile into the falling day?

Knowing no power on earth can intervene

Beyond the hit and miss.  It sings, ‘I go

                                                   With all my glassness! I say yes to this!’