Miss Balbina, Treasure Beach, Jamaica

Shortly after I got in Billy's Bay, Treasure Beach Jamaica, Miss B, my proprietress, said her hair was making her scalp feel "scratchy," so she went next door to her son Jerry's and Gayon, her grand daughter shaved her head! She does this periodically. Her hair had been short and curly, fluffy and silver with some darker areas. It looked lovely. It took a little getting used to seeing her like this! B is 75 now and may have lost a little height, but still is tall. She uses a staff (fish trap stick) for moving around the yard. I got her a good knee brace a couple of years ago but I think it isn't very comfortable. She has that goat corral on the property next door. The goats come down in the early evening and she puts them in there for the night. The goats and kids belong to 3 different parties. I counted 11 adults, but there are probably more that aren't so regular in their habits. Many kids were being born while I was there. I LOVE them! And I love to see her walking up the slight incline in the morning when she lets them out and they form a line walking behind her as the come up the path to their day of freedom and foraging. I helped her doctor a couple of new kids, she still does the vet work and buys all the supplies herself with her limited funds. She moves around the yard sweeping up, hand washing in the yard, dragging wood up from Delephina's land next door for yard cooking and roasting coffee. Gone are the days when she would leave the yard with her machet, a towel and an length of rope. In those days she came back from the bush to the north with a huge bundle of firewood balanced on her head. My guess would be 40 pounds or more. Her out building, the wood fire kitchen is full of Jerry's fishing equipment, so she has a fire pit over by the fence. Andre got fish for us one night from the incoming fishermen and she prepared and fried them, then "cooked them down" on 3 stones in the pit. Delish! Andre, the Polish guest, found out when Uke's boat was coming in and he walked down to the sea after dark with - no light - to get some. He invited me to go down there with him, but it had just rained hard and the path was muddy. It was overcast, so no moon or stars. I said no thanks. He said there were NO lights down at the beach where the fish were being unloaded, sorted and weighed for sale. Not sure how they could weigh them in the dark. Maybe they just part out by size & by basket. Or perhaps they were weighing them a little later using headlights from the trucks that come down there to ice them down and ship them out. Back in the day B would rush down to the beach at dark when Jerry's boat came in and help unload the catch. She came back to the house energized and full of sea water! Slice of life -

Away

Away 11/13 Glenndala lay on her tiny trundle bed, her luminescence fast fading. Aunt Winnie cried "It's the only chance we have - Away! To Shadow Mountain before the sun's last rays - to Aunt Isabella's. An herb that grows there alone - it's the only thing that will revive Grandmother." I hopped on my pony and left at speed, soon picking up the trail at the foot of the mountain. Shimmer shied when we reached the flimsy rope bridge as it swayed in the wind between two promontories. I bent forward and whispered into her furry ear. She stepped gently forward as I sang a quiet tune, softly urging her on. We hopped happily onto the living stone - Away! ascending again the narrow, rocky path as it traversed the mountain. The sun was fast sliding behind the mountain and the blue jays shrieked, the chill gusty wind set the dark pines swaying. I finally spied the lights of the little cottage just as the trail faded to black. I made out Aunt Isabella, silhouetted on the porch, waving me in. We swept into the golden room, flames licking up in the fireplace. A gleaming copper cauldron steamed on its hook. Twinkle, Bella's familiar, curled nearby, the white tip of her tail covering her foxy nose. "Child, there's just time for you to have a taste of this," Isabella said as she dipped something hot and spicy into an old earthenware cup. "The wind sent me word of Glendie's distress." She reached above the fireplace for a wisp of herbs hanging there tied in a purple ribbon. Sipping, I warmed myself by the fire. "The full moon has just risen, tonight is clear - Away! my Precious. Take this - " she slipped a green, faintly glowing wishing stone into my palm - "it's magic will protect you on your return home." She tied a lamb's fleece around my shoulders. Kissing me on the forehead she whispered "Goddess speed." Away! The Moon shone and the mountain paths glowed sliver, lighting our way. At the promontory I gasped. The wicked wind had worked it's rage on the bridge. It was twisted and un-passable. The green stone! I pulled it out of my pocket. Holding it high and offering it to the Moonlight I breathed deep and spoke the magic words. I focused my mind's eye on the opposite side. In a twinkling Shimmer's hooves rang out as we landed securely on the other side. Away!

The Anti-Charmer

Fortune in my cookie: "A beauty is someone you notice, a charmer is someone who notices you." charm - to delight or captivate, from charme - Middle English, a magic spell Charming was an adjective sometimes applied to me back in the day. Perhaps charm has no expiration date? Once upon a time, on a Thursday night at a popular east side club, I sat at the bar surveying the crowd. The blues band was on a break. He sidled up to the empty bar stool on my left. He was not someone I noticed, but apparently someone who noticed me, an ordinary looking guy, tall and seemingly self-possessed. He opened with some predictable small talk. Then, apropos of nothing, said, "Prove to me how creative you are in three minutes." I am known by my friends for my wit and the ability to think on my feet, or in this case on my shapely behind. I found myself nearly speechless - for once. Happily I kept my jaw from dropping. Any charm I possessed was vaporized on the spot. The logical thing to say, "Why not prove to me how creative you are," unfortunately never entered my head. I continued speaking, proving nothing and struggling to swallow the cocktail of surprise, disgust and indignation in the back of my throat. What registered on my face? I can't imagine. Having been a teacher I must have manged to keep my expression somewhat neutral, practiced at saying one thing while thinking or feeling another.[You jerk, why should I be in the position of impressing you?] Mr Charmer was not proving to be charmed by my stream of consciousness remarks on the topic of me, and happily decamped to try this on another unsuspecting female. He'd probably come up with this line reading an Esquire advice column - how to pick up girls. Perhaps this was an improvement on (and quicker than) him launching into proof of how creative he could be in three minutes? And maybe slightly less annoying. The band returned and I soon hopped back onto the dance floor displaying some spontaneous, free-spirited dancing. Let him who hath eyes to see...

Pie from the Sky

Pie from the Sky One job I had to be new to America was to learn - what is pie. Gary and me walked on Main Street. We saw a sign, "The Lefty Cafe." He said "Let's eat here! The pie is to die for." What food for to die? Inside we sat on a fat long thing at a shiny table. Gary said "This is a diner." I said "But it is dinner, not diner." He said "Well,it's really lunch." "What will you have boys?" a pretty girl asked. "What's good?" Gary asked. "Get the special - hot beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy." "Great!" I said, "I love special food!" We waited for our American lunch drinking very hot coffee in fat cups that Gary said are called - mugs. "What is pie?" I asked. "Don't worry, let it be a surprise and we'll go out back and have pie in the sky for desert." Now I knew something about what is pie, and I love desert, but how could it come from the sky? I heard the Bible said Moses fed the Hebrews manna that showed up in the morning when they walked in the desert for 40 years. It didn't say where the manna came from, maybe it came from the sky? We were still waiting because there were a lot of people for the - lunch. There was a funny little machine at the table. Gary said "Lets put some money in the juke box." What's juke? He did and then pushed some little buttons on there and music came on. Juke - a new word for music. A song said "Work and pray, live on hay, you'll get pie in the sky when you die." What is hay? And I really hoped I wouldn't have to die for pie from the sky. I hoped it was a joke from the juke box. We started eating a very wet plate of bread and meat with brown sauce that Gary said was called gravy. Gary said "Be sure to save some room for desert." A special room for desert! I said "Gary, I don't want to die for what is pie or for anything else. I'm only 25 and I came here so I wouldn't have to die. You know what it was like there." Gary said "Don't worry, die is just a word that rhymes with pie. You don't have to die, it is just an expression. What is rhymes, what is expression? We paid for our lunch and Gary took us out the back door. We went up some yellow stairs. At the top was a sign "Pie in the Sky Cafe." Inside the top of the room was blue with clouds and there were a lot of glass boxes with deserts inside. We walked over to one of them and Gary said "Welcome to America - this is PIE!" He pointed to lemon pie, - cherry, apple, chocolate pie and some other kinds, I pointed to the cherry pie that looked pretty. A nice lady said why not sit outside? A young girl brought pie to us. I found out I love pie. And it is great to get it from the Sky - Cafe.

The New Jerusalem or "Beam me up Scotty"

The New Jerusalem or "Beam me up Scotty" (The Post Non-Apocalypse) January 2013 The predicted end of the world didn't worry me too much. I was expecting one of two scenarios. Either The New Jerusalem right here on good old Terra Firma - Revelations 21: "At the end of the world the earth together with the celestial bodies will be gloriously transformed into a part of the dwelling place of the blessed." Or an instantaneous "Beam me up Scotty" to a heavenly realm. Either way you might look like your high school graduation picture. I could handle that. For the tired old world, how wonderful to transcend war, hunger, sickness and * old age *. There are a lot of things I'd miss in my humble world, I thought. But maybe the Biblical end of the world as we know it would mean transformation of our immediate surroundings into a place where perfect people inhabited uncluttered spaces that never had to be dusted (I hate vacuuming). I remembered what Geshe Sopa told my Buddhism class about the seven levels of Deva Heaven. When you die your soul is struck like a bell, he said, and the tone produced determines your goodness level, as the soul registers all Earthly deeds. Kind of like St Peter at the Pearly Gates. Then you are beamed up to the appropriate Deva Realm where you work. Yes, he said, there is work in heaven. If your tone is of a low vibration you go to the Hungry Ghost realm, kind of like Purgatory, where there is probably even more work to do and maybe takes longer (don't ask about the Hell Realm). After working out your Karma you will eventually be reincarnated into another human body where you will be motivated through suffering to figure things out (enlightenment) - or rinse and repeat. If you were really bad you might come back as an animal. Being a cat would be OK - but a warthog? Without Gaya where would you end up? Revelations does mention celestial bodies, so The New Jerusalem might still be a possibility, even if it was the end of the world. I didn't make any preparations for the end of the world as we know it, tho there are a few things I kind of wanted to hang onto. Alas, as everyone knows - You can't take it with you.

And What A Character

>I was cruising craigslist at the truck stop when I saw the ad - “Miss Danu’s World Class Massage. My low back and legs were already killing me on my drive from Chicago to Minneapolis. This should be just the ticket! Over the phone she sounded like a sensible kind of bodyworker Full body, professional, payment in cash. I gave her my estimated time of arrival, noon Yes! Ready and set to break up the long drive with some hands-on relief and relaxation! She came to the door, a woman of a certain age, hair longish and loose, dressed in black. The place looked respectable enough. There were Halloween decorations dotting the porch and living room.The hookahs on the shelves gave me cause for pause. She followed my gaz. “Oh those… a collection from my time in the Middle East. Strictly for smoking tobacco steeped in fruit syrup. Ever tried one?” “Not recently.” She got me situated in the studio - candles, a fresh glass of ice and pitcher of water. Something was playing in the background, was it “The Phantom of the Opera? I hoped she would put something more relaxing on in short order - maybe elevator music? Knock, knock. In she came wearing a witch hat. “What’s this?” I asked. “Well, in keeping with the season I thought you might enjoy - massage by a witch.” “Sure, whatever." I wouldn’t have to see anything anyway, face down in the headrest. Why not let her have a little fun, just humor her. I was enjoying her skillful style and the tension was melting right out of my areas of concern. “Nice hands.” I complimented her. Too soon - “Time to turn over?” “Fine. She switched the CD to something foreign and rhythmic, a little too upbeat for my mood. The next thing I knew she was doing something that looked like a belly dance. Happily that only lasted for a minute or two. Is she a witch or a belly dancer? At this point she put on some lush piano music That’s more like it. Finally. I surrendered my feet to the start of side two. Love those pressure points; The massage moved right along as she struck all the right notes; Why not a little entertainment here? Got to give her credit for a little creativity. No harm done. My hour of respite was fast coming to an end.; It’s always over too soon. She was finishing with a scalp massage and a few light strokes on my face when an old, familiar song came on and she sang along THE END (but no happy ending).

Winter Waits

Winter Waits Deer tongue lettuce leaves rise after December frost again, lick the sky Hazy low hanging sun peeks from Northern skies Warms cold winter eyes Morning fog beads black wool jacket,warm April's breath in December Bare skin drinks in the sun's last kiss, sweet surrender - this Silver ferns of ice tick tack a frozen snail's track across frosted window panes ~