A little Laila update.
Current mood: breezy

Yesterday was my grand-daughter's first birthday. Some of you who've been around for a while remember all her health problems when she was first born and I've neglected to keep all the interested parties updated. We'll she doing well. She has some development delays, but she's coming along nicely. This is a photo her and I from her birthday party yesterday.

Me and Laila-bug

12:55 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

I’m still here! (I didn’t forget everyone)
Current mood: tired
Category: (very) Blogging

To all who may wonder where I've been because I haven't commented on your pages/blogs. Well, down here in South Louisiana we had this hurricane, Gustav, pass through the parish. For the nine days I've been burning the candle at both ends, the middle, bottom, top, and sides. Last Saturday and Sunday, we (law enforcement) put about five thousand people on buses and shipped them out to safe places. Since Monday afternoon I've been on the road running the gammit of public service. Last night we finally got power back on at my house and I got to see my family for the the first time since this adventure began. Sadly enough I may have to do this all over again in a few days when Hurricane Ike decides to make its presence known. We've had a good bit of property damage (roofs and fences and the like). A fair bit of our parish is still without power. We had only a few deaths attributed to the storm and those were due to personal health issues and not any injury or accident. We did have one homocide and it was solved and two people were taken into custody within hours of its discovery. Anywhos, I'm tired and I'm off to bed. Nighty night.

12:43 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

With a view of the Concrete Sky….
Current mood: thankful
Category: Writing and Poetry

With a view of the Concrete Sky….

They stand in these dark streets selling their wares, their drugs, their selves….

They stand in this seedy existence of life under I-10, tents and sleeping bags galore….

They are dirty, they are hungry, they are sick and deceased, and they are tired….

They're scared, so afraid to approach a car that they hang plastic shopping bags on the end of sticks and extend them out to car windows that are stopped for the traffic lights in the hopes of a driver's generosity….

Six or so blocks from the French Quarter, not all that far from the party, a different life churns away for those who couldn't leave, those who came back to start over, and for those who came to start anew….

They stand in fear, they stand in hate, and they stand in dread of what life has brought them….

With all that's come down on them, with all that's been done to them, with all they've been excluded from, they stand….

With their hopes dashed, with their dreams broken, with their strife in full view of the more fortunate to see, they stand….

Yet they stand with a view of the Concrete Sky….

Currently listening : Once By Original Soundtrack Release date: 2007-05-22

4:01 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

At the hour of our death…
Current mood: relaxed
Category: Writing and Poetry

                           At the hour of our death...

She looked around at all the musicians, palm and tarot card readers, and artists doing their best to peddle their talents and foreseeing knowledge to the passing public…

When the rain began to fall most everyone around without an umbrella had packed up and moved under the overhead shelter nearby….

As she stood in front of St. Louis Cathedral in her dirty dress and bare feet, the rain drizzling down around her as the funeral procession began to exit the church …

As the Army Honor Guard carried the flag draped coffin from the church she quietly stepped back to the fence of Jackson Sq. and began to sing Ave Maria…

At first few noticed that it was this beautiful Creole girl with a wonderful soprano voice who was singing…

The sheltered musicians' attention shifted from the unison sound of the crisp tap and clank of the soldier's shoes to the girl as her voice soared...

A bassist, a cellist, and violin player began to play the somber music of the song…

The young widow stepped away from the long column of people and stopped to listen as the girl sang "Ave Maria, Mater Dei, Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, Ora pro nobis, Ora, Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, Nunc et in hora mortis, Et in hora mortis nostrae, Et in hora mortis nostrae, Et in hora mortis nostrae, Ave Marie"…

She began to cry, looked up into her father-in-law's eyes and asked "For what sin did my husband die?"

He cradled her arm in his and said "No sin" as he escorted her away…

After getting into the car the young widow stared out the open window at the little girl singing…

As the procession moved along the street the little girl's voice began to fade until it was heard no more…

7:29 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Damn, I spent that much!
Current mood: angsty
Category: Life

Damn, I spent that much!

A short while ago I was looking at the end-of-year statement for my credit card I use for everything. For the year of 2007, I spent just over $26,000.00. Now don't get me wrong, I DON'T MAKE A TON OF MONEY! I often spend money on indulgences when I could go a less expensive route, but the fact is I like getting the best I can get and I don't care if I spend seventy cents more for organic chicken broth than I would for the steroid version or even the no-name brand. However, what I realized is that of all the money I spent, very little of it remains in my community. My family spent about forty-five hundred dollars just at Wal-Mart/Sams alone. So how much of that is staying in my community and how much is going to Arkansas (where Wal-Mart/Sams is headquartered) and everywhere else. About two thousand went to Comcast (cable company-and they suck shit out of a dead goats ass!), about three-thousand went to Engtergy (power company).

I guess my point to all this is why do we spend all of our money at these corporations and watch the money leave our community and then they really don't do shit for us! What irks me with the power and cable companies is that I can't shop around for a better bargain. Electricity is electricity, it works or it don't, can't bitch about the quality of it if you know what I mean.

Now Comcast took over from Time-Warner. Within six months of the change my cable bill went up forty-five dollars a month. The quality of the service that is provided by Comcast compared to that of Time-Warner is crap. Due to the increase in costs, I've had to cancel some services to keep my bills manageable and maintain something near the same quality of life my family is accustomed to. Now that the cost of everything has caught a ride on the space shuttle (sky-rocketed) I'm considering a second job and buying a scooter. Don't laugh, at a 100 mpg, that's big savings in fuel costs alone. We're paying almost four dollars a gallon down here now. Next summer I think we might be paying about six-fifty or seven dollars a gallon and my pay check ain't going up with it. That's some insane shit folks.

I could go on and on and on and on….uhhh, you get the point, I think everyone gets what I'm saying so I'll stop there.

Now I'm soliciting your opinions. Yes, please tell me what you think. Go ahead and rant folks!   

Currently reading : A Year in Provence By Peter Mayle Release date: 1991-06-04

12:07 PM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Morning Time and Sweet....
Current mood: cheerful
Category: Writing and Poetry

Morning Time and Sweet….

He stumbled in wearing only linen shorts to a seat at the table and rubbing sleep from his eyes….

As he sipped coffee and lit a cigarette, she asked if he'd slept well….

His response was a sort of mouth gaping yawn in the affirmative….

Her eyebrows perked up as she shook her head from side to side as if she were amazed he was awake at all…

When he finally stopped rubbing his face he took another long pull from his cigarette….

She sat there in a pair of white cotton boy shorts, a white "wife beater" tank top sans bra, an elbow on the table with her hand lost in her wavy auburn hair, and her knee drawn toward her chest with her foot resting on the seat of the chair….

He watched as she selected a ripened peach from the porcelain bowl before them….

She lightly squeezed the peach in her delicate hands before taking a bite….

A trickle of juice began running down the corner of her mouth and she wiped it with her hand before it could fall from her chin….

As she moved in for another bite she licked at the fuzzy flesh and literally kissed the fruit before biting in….

As she chewed the sweet flesh of the fruit, she licked her lips clean and gazed toward the beach outside….

His eyes drifted from her mouth down the subtle line of her neck to the shadowy form of her breasts being revealed by the sun piercing through her shirt, her darkened nipples pressing into the fabric….

His stare having lingered a bit long, she reached over and pushed against his knee with her hand, then demanded to know what he was looking at….

Glancing up, he sarcastically said "You"…..

She looked at him with a glint of sexy anger and quickly straddled him….

She pulled his hair and demanded he repeat himself….

"You, you beautiful thing" he replied….

She bit into the peach again, but this time it was he who licked at the juices around her mouth as his hands grasped her waist….

Between her legs she could feel his passion manifest and asked "Is that for me?"…..

He dropped the cigarette in the ashtray on the table and without stubbing it out he stood up and began to walk away with her in his arms….

She grasped him around the shoulders with one arm as she dropped the other, letting go of the remnants of the peach to bounce and roll across the table….

They kissed the first of many kisses to be shared that morning as rain began to fall through the sunlight….

A joyous morning ensued until sleep over took them and dreaming of how this is the way to start a lazy day….

8:49 AM - 6 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Recollection of Love....
Current mood: content
Category: Writing and Poetry

Recollection of Love….

Through the window she watched the young man row his boat on the slow moving river; he was doing his best to woo the girl with him….

She had spent the morning making a few loaves of bread and felt the pain in her old hands as she kneaded her dough….

A loaf with rosemary and garlic was already baking; it was her brother's favorite with pot roast and gravy which he liked with seasoned root vegetables….

 She looked down at her hands, remembering the hands of a young girl, a young girl who had been rowed about in a boat by a boy she had lost long ago….

She remembered that he was not the handsomest young man in their village, but they were of the same age and that he was kind, polite, and good natured….

Suddenly she'd found herself wiping tears from her face….

It wasn't the sorrow of his loss all those years ago she cried for, but effort he lived his life with, a life cut short by a simple illness that wouldn't go away….

She smiled a pain filled smile at the memory of love long lost and turned to pull her bread from the oven….

She stopped to look out the window as she heard the young girl's giggle….

Another smile crossed her face, but this one was of joy for the girl outside finding her first love on a boat ride like she did all those years ago….

She pulled her bread from the oven, covered it with a towel, then sat down for coffee and smiled as she remembered those days for a while….

7:01 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

River side....
Current mood: calm
Category: Writing and Poetry

River side….

Shaded by the house from the sun, an old man sits in a worn chair at a table in the stone lane that dead-ends at his house….

He smokes his cigarettes and watches as fish fly from the surface of the shallow river only yards away….

He is joined by a gentleman friend who comes by often…

A woman, his sister not his wife, brings wine, bread, cheese, and a small bottle of Olive Oil….

She scolds the second man who's spit into the lane where people walk, clearly she didn't approve and he begs her forgiveness….

 Conversation passes easily between the old men as the sun falls farther away and the shadow in which they sit grows longer….

A young girl with dark blonde hair and a uniform rides up on a scooter to deliver the post….

The old man complains that she only brings him bills and is rude for never accepting his invitation for a coffee or even water….

She in turn complains he only wishes to stare at her breasts and indignantly walks away after her delivery….

His friend laughs and points at him and teasingly tells him she's a smart girl….

After the girl mounts her scooter and rides away the old man recounts the afternoon he saw her swimming in the river when she thought no one was watching….

His friend listened intently to the tale….

His friend was stunned to realize the girl was wearing her under garments during the swim…

The old man laughs and points his finger at his friend for presuming the worst of him and the girl….

As the old man laughs his friend waves him off with his disappointment of the story's end….

The phone rings inside and the old man's sister answers it....

She speaks briefly and hangs up….

She then appears from the kitchen window and tells the old man's friend his wife has rang and wants him to return home for dinner….

The old man's friend complains that his wife treats him like a child and the old man's sister chides him that it's because he acts like a child….

As the old man's friend bids goodbye 'til another time he tells the old man's sister that he didn't recall her being so mean when they were young and she would shower him with kisses in the field by the vineyard….

The old man's sister retorts that she just didn't know any better back then….

As the old man's friend turns down the lane his sister notices a smirk on her brother's face as his attention has returned to the river….

She slaps him on the shoulder and lets a "Hmmph" when he looks up to her and laughs so that his swollen belly shakes as he grasps his cane to his chest….

And another day has peacefully faded from their lives….

8:42 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Thoughts on a quote...
Current mood: grateful
Category: Religion and Philosophy

Thoughts on a quote…

Today I was at the book store and I picked up this book with all these quotes. I flipped through several pages reading different quotes by several people. Then I came across this one.

"Living together is an art." Thich Nhat Hanh

The first thing that came to my mind was "We obviously don't have enough fucking artists."

6:03 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Jackson Square....
Current mood: vexed
Category: (because I’m not sure how I feel) Writing and Poetry

Jackson Square.…

I sat beside the gate of Jackson Square on Rue St. Ann and listened to the wind weave a rhythm of sound from a wind chime….

It seemed that I was the only one listening, the only one who heard; the few that were out walked by without notice….

A coffee, a bit of croissant with sausage baked inside, cigarettes, the Times, and a bit of traffic nearby….

My morning had begun with a perfect chill in the air and grew warmer as the sun rose….

The trees were regaining their color and birds were building nests….

An old man sat painting all he saw, even the ashes at my feet…..

His clothes were dirty and his face was unshaven, but he dressed with great style….

What he must have been as a younger man, how he must have lived, all he must have seen….

I saw his painting as it came to life in front of me and asked his price….

He asked for eighty, I offered him sixty…. He took it….

As he started to walk away I grabbed his arm….

He looked up at me with surprise and I put another twenty in his shirt pocket….

He smiled with appreciation, waved with his hat, and shuffled away….

I headed to my flat to hang this painting of my day…

8:17 AM - 10 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment