To Do #54

Morning Friend,

On such a poetically beautiful day I offer some beauti.....well, some poetry.

To Do by Tim Lawrence

There’s a certain piece of paper

upon which my days rely

No it’s not a hefty banknote

or a check of value high

It’s my handy-dandy “TO DO” list

ere revised but never tossed

Like a guide without a compass

without it I might get lost

Some folks I know fly through life

by the very seat of their pants

Taking things as they come

and leaving much to chance

But I am a creature of structure

spontaneity is for play

My list helps me prioritize

so no time gets frittered away

Reliability’s no accident

there’s no “trustworthy” gene

a challenged mind like mine excels

within a scripted scene

Now one might gaze upon my list

and find themselves dumbfound

This Maniacal Agenda

would run lesser men aground

Despite some trivialities

like household needs and such

I’ve several lofty things “to do”

and fear’s no more a crutch

Time is life’s sweet essence

every hour tinged with bliss

Every moment’s like ambrosia

with my accentuated list

There are eventualities in life

the great “To Do Unknown”

But my list is put on paper

and not chiseled into stone

It’s more of a Treasure Map

than a firm itinerary

A grocery list for a life lived well

a fool-proof recipe

There are ongoing projects listed

lest my enthusiasm quell

and the “little things” of fiction

that don’t “take care of themselves”

If there’s something I forget today

or an opportunity missed

It’s probable and likely

that it wasn’t on my list

I’ll admit it’s never-ending

I’ll cross one off as I’m adding two

But life’s much more fulfilling

when there’s so much more to do

Though this earthly time is precious

comes a time our souls are whisked

I pray my friend we’ll both be on

The Good Lord’s TO DO List

I’ll surely not get to everything

upon my list today

But I’m crossing off “write poem” now

and sending best wishes your way!

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...

love as long as you live ( doing)

Vigilance #53

Morning Friend,

It's very important for me to be extremely vigilant in my life today.

No there aren't any roving gangs of alcoholic instigators looking to shanghai me into a bender.

Nor do I worry about leaving a pop or a coffee unattended for fear someone might try and spike it.

And any man or woman alive ( except Sophia Loren?), would be wasting their time and energy trying to "convince" me to drink again.

The focus of my vigilance is the enemy within.....my own mind.

The voice.

The insidious virus of my alcoholism is for most of the time, Quarantined, yet it forever lies in wait.

It waits for my vigilance to wane ever so slightly so that its' whispered seeds of doubt may germinate.

"Look at you! Four years sober! ONE drink to celebrate?"

"C'mon....you quit once, you can just turn it off again?"

"What kind of a REAL man are you?"

"You know of course that your not drinking is a "red flag" for the ladies...you're either boring as pee on a plate or you're a psychopath, court-ordered not to drink!?"

"Hey you quit before ever trying Yagermeister...that looks like a wickedly fun drink, no?"

"How about getting on a good old GLOW, just for old times sake?"

"Your dance card is disgraceful young man...whatever happened to the old "Closing Time Closer"?....lotta tipsy empty hearts out there Champ!"

"After all this time, you should be able to CONTROL your drinking....weekends only?....maybe just a couple during the week?....just days ending in 'Y' ?

"What about your old Mantra....Drink like a MAN, get up for work like a MAN?"

"You've got a couple of free days coming up, c'mom NO ONE WILL KNOW!"

I should clarify my friend, that this viral voice does NOT plague my every waking moment with such "temptations".

Yikes!...I'd soon go mad with that kind of chatter constantly ringing in my head.

The truth of the matter is I very nearly did go mad when the voice had a foothold and dominated my daily stream of consciousness.

"Hey man you can't pass out yet...the vendor closes in 20 minutes and if you miss it, you'll wake up to an empty fridge....you don't want that!?!!"

"Yeah yeah, your life sucks...have another drink and forget about it!"

"TOMORROW you can think about quitting...jeez don't waste a good drunk worrying about that crap today!"

"There's nothing like a cold one on a ____day!"

"Another girlfriend dumped ya? Hey there's plenty of fish in the sea right!?"

"What do DOCTOR'S know? That teetotalling bastard probably tells that to everybody!"

"Like a blaze of glory old chap....doin' it YOUR WAY....that's how you want to go out.....live hard, play hard, die hard!"

I am gratefully blessed with ways and means to have shut that darned voice up and to soberly live and play hard. ( the dying part may not rival Bruce Willis in hardness but that's fine)

But it is a daily reprieve.

And each morning's prayer of gratitute includes a vow of continued strength and vigilence.

For no matter how many years of sobriety pass, I will always be but one drink away from square one.

In fact you don't even go back to where you left off.

You don't suddenly start "fresh"; developing a taste for booze and forging new drinking habits.

You start out a step back from your darkest days, only this time you are mired in the frustrating muck of heart-breaking disappointment.

You suddenly find yourself in the anticipated company of a dear old friend who to your horror, has not aged well at all.

Whatever physiological tolerance you had before is measurably weaker.

The tools for alcoholically functioning and the cues you relied on for drunken self-sustainment, are gone.

Your ever present virus relishes the fertile ground of your impairment and the now mutated and fully blown disease flourishes.

The circus....is back in town.

Only this time it's not Ringling Bros.....or anything close.

The lying, begins anew, but in a new and frustrating forum where no one cares to listen, because no one will care.

One of the greatest miracles to me in my recovery, is that I have managed to maintain the integrity of my quarantined virus, and not had a "slip" or anything remotely like one.

Despite the fact that the Good Lord's mercy knows no bounds and that A.A. especially caters to the recently fallen, I am having far too much "hard" fun to start all over again.

So you see why I have the need to be constantly vigilant.

And perhaps also why I seem sometimes lost in thought during the day.

(Sometimes I'm just day-dreaming about Sophia....)

Un-impaired by Tim Lawrence

This bitter nectar douses my upset
a fifth today, I’m not done yet

I know I’m quite a sight today
still lovely, in a hardened way

I was a Prince of promise rare
now an aging King whose Kingdom’s bare

Yes it’s the route which brought me here
hidden away from loved ones dear

But as redemption sweet was tossed
reconciliation’s lost

A reflexive smile as pain subsides
the drunken glee that anguish hides

I’m firmly planted in roiling sand
of sinking hopes – my helm unmanned

I missed the bus, my ship has sailed
a cab to purgatory’s hailed

And if I don’t apologize
it’s simple, I’ve no original lies

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe....

Love as long as you live ( stick on ice)

The Imagination of Kings and Queens #52

Morning Friend,

While high atop the "giant" Ferris wheel at Tinkertown last week, it was brought to my oft-wavering attention by my three-year-old niece, God-daughter and "bestest buddy" Ashley, that "you can see the whole world from up here!".

As with many of her profound observations and those of my other two nieces; Angela 7 and Janelle 11, with whom I'd spent the thrill-filled day, I couldn't have agreed more.

Now there are certainly larger Ferris wheels in the world than Tinkertown's 30 foot high "horizon buster".

At the apex of the 443 foot London Eye which holds 800 people, one can see Windsor Castle...25 miles away.

The Singapore Flyer is 541 feet high, holds 784 passengers and boasts a view of parts of Malaysia and Indonesia....30 miles away.

The world's largest Ferris, or "observation wheel" is Beijing's Great Wheel. It is 682 feet high, holds 1920 people, takes a half hour to go around once, and from the top on a clear day you can see parts of the Great Wall of China....over 40 miles away.

Which is all fine and well I suppose for folks in those parts of the world with their apparent, and sadly limited perspective.

A child's perspective is not restrained by facts and figures.

A child's vision is not colored by societal conceptions.

A child's imagination is untroubled by comparative dimensions.

A child's interpretation of time and space can be representative of the boundaries of love and security and the quality of faith and trust in their lives.

If what they see, feel and hear on a daily basis are reinforcements of unconditional love, reaffirmations of God's unending Grace in their lives and reminders of their own unlimited worth, then a child's world becomes a borderless canvas upon which the palette of their imaginations may run wild.

Whoever it was who said "live each day like it was your last", could well have said "....like a joyous child at play!".

I have come to see, ( through ever-clarifying vision), that a child at play is like a joyous dream come to life.

And I am fairly awed by the love on which Janelle, Angela and Ashley are so exquisitely nurtured and the limitless imagination it inspires in them.

And I am immeasurably grateful to have felt the light of their love and the tremendous insight, humility and strength it inspires in me.

It is fear which limits a child.

It is disappointment which jades a child.

It is chaos which unravels a child.

It is darkness which extinguishes a child.

It was ( sister-in-law) Gwen's unfortunately broken leg which gave Mom, Dad and me the blessed opportunity to accompany "my girls" on their Tinkertown visit last week.

I'll admit to some preconceived disdain for the little "kids" amusement park just outside of town with "...the train that goes all around!", but since it was an annual family tradition that the girls were anticipating greatly, I readily agreed.

As so often happens when I am in their company, my not-quite-so "inner" child was reincarnated to the degree that I may have had as much fun or more than they did?

There are probably more than one person who was there who are still wondering about "those three lovely girls with that 6' 5" giddy galoot"?

Having Gramma and Grampa along turned out to be a wise idea in terms of structure and restraint!

No my friend, it's not Disneyland, or Three Flags, or The Ex, or even Wonder Shows.

But on that gloriously lovely day, "hanging out" with three of the most imaginatively ingenious, fanatically fun-loving, contagiously cool and beautifully blessed BLESSINGS that an Uncle could ask for, made it seem like the bestest one ever in the whole wide world!

A world which as I have previously stated, we could SEE....high above the clouds on the gigantic Ferris wheel.

I waved to those folks on the Great Wheel and some of them waved back!

...( kids probably).

love "tinker"-tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live ( giddily)

Cooking Rice #51

Morning Friend,

I was struck in the left brain by my amazing Black and Decker automatic rice cooker this morning.

It wasn't too terribly painful but I'm afraid it may have left a mark.

I don't think it was from being too close?.....I mean the thing has a glass lid for goodness sakes so you can gaze in wondrous awe at rice cooking to "perfection".

There is NOTHING in the instructions which says, "Caution! Overexposure may induce profound metaphoric musing. Symptoms lasting more than 4 hours require immediate editorial intervention!"

I was nevertheless stricken by how this remarkably simple and cleverly effective appliance is a lot like my life itself these days.

Let me first say that as one who has eaten and enjoyed my own primitively prepared "imperfect" rice on many occasions I can tell you I was skeptical about adding another "gadget" to my already space-challenged kitchen. ( It's so crowded I've got to go outside to change my mind!)

Besides which there was always an element of "'adventure" to rice-cooking that made the finished product - which could be anywhere in the range from "gloppy" to "crispy" - a little more palatable.

But I'm here to tell you, the thing works like a charm.

And the concept is simple. ( as simple as it must now be for the inventor to pretty well "print his own money"!)

What you do is simply throw in a specific amount of rice, water and spices, push a button, and walk away.

As Buckwheat would say, "It's a simple as that!".

Come back 20 minutes later and it's not only cooked but it's sitting in "warm" mode; a good thing indeed for those who might walk WAAAY away.

The machine has some sort of spring loaded SCALE which initiates the cooking cycle based on the weight of the uncooked rice and water.

Once the weight reduces to what "perfect and fluffy" rice should weigh, it clicks down into warm.

It's not "fool-proof" because you do have to put the correct ratio of rice to water but the measuring lines for that are clearly marked and the instructions are pretty concise and understandable, ( even to a pseudo-fool like myself).

Now the REAL beauty of this little beauty is in the spice.

You can put just about ANY flavoring your little culinary heart desires... from garlic ( my favorite), to lemon, tomato, pineapple, mustard, hot pepper, bacon, anchovy, curry....even cinnamon!

So there you have it my friend....POWER!

The power and abilty to concoct a perfectly textured side dish, ( or MAIN dish if you happen to be poor or oriental?) which you can customize, tantalize, kick up ( or down) a notch, zestify, inundate, fabulate and modulate....JUST the way you want!

As I sat there basking in the garlicky aroma of what was going to be part of my lunch today, and the aura of the magnificent day itself, I got to thinking about how so much of my day to day life has become simply beautiful, in its' beautiful simplification.

(I've got to do something with my mind without the rice to worry about now don't I?)

Do you ever lay in bed some mornings a little fearful of the day ahead?

And then when the courage to arise comes, it's tempered with hope, that it's going to be an O.K. day?

Do you then tip-toe discreetly trying to get through the day without too much fuss....blandly....like plain, ill-cooked rice?

As you may know, I spent years living like that.

Fearfully hoping that the days, and the rice, wouldn't be too terribly bad.

My recipe for living was complicated by alcoholic over-indulgence, convoluted by spiritual starvation, confused by erratic irrationality and decidedly not simple.

Feeling anywhere from "gloppy to crispy" made just getting out of bed in the morning an adventure.

In concert with the daily physiological toll that heavy drinking takes out on a person is a painfully palpable plethora of problems and confounding complications that just make everything, everyone and every eventuality difficult to swallow.

As far as flavor went, there always seemed to be too much of what you won't find on any spice rack; anger-root, sorrow-sauce, self-pity powder, fear-leaf, doubt-seed, pain paste, and of course always overdone with the hopeless-shire!

To have come from that, and now simply turning myself ON each day like a switch, knowing the day is going to be at a minimum "perfect" but likely moreso depending on how many notches up I choose to kick it, never ceases to amaze me.

Like that amazing little rice cooker.

I've got the Good Lord to thank for the perfectly amazing days.

And now Black and Decker for the amazingly perfect rice!

Amazing.

Love timmy:/
Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( truly)

The Family #50

Morning Friend,

Unlike the proverbial parents who were in the Iron and Steel Business, ("...my Mom ironed and my Dad stole..."), my Mom and Dad are big in the field of SHARING.

It is not surprising really, given the harsh lessons in survival, compassion, and good will learned at the feet of parents who'd endured the Great Depression. ( during which some people did iron and steal ).

In the still lean post-Depression years of their childhood, sharing was more than just an attribute of a well-rounded individual, it was a way of life.

Prosperity wasn't measured in stock portfolios but by how much if any, meat was on the bones in the soup pot.

Good fortune was a job - any job - and good health.

Supplemental income could be found through bartering, bootlegging and some seasonal hay-baling.

One could always afford to be charitable, if only from the heart.

Like a solid oak tree, the family was nourished and strengthened by its' roots; a cousin who had this, an uncle who knew how to do that, or a sister-in-law who was willing to part with something else.....

And as it flourished, each branch growing outward into the world is forever linked to those roots and held firm to the mighty trunk with the bark of family fellowship and shared love. ( and the "sweet"? memory of that big old grey tub of shared Saturday night bath water.)

Times change.

But Mom and Dad's memory of when turkey-neck soup and patched jeans weren't a delicacy and a fashion statement is still fresh.

Ideals change.

But one principle still and always works in their world..."When one has, everyone has....when everyone has nothing, at least we have each other!"

Morals change.

But the Golden Rule, one of my earliest life lessons, remains a cornerstone family tradition.

Family dynamics change.

But there's ALWAYS room for one more at the table.

I offer this bit of information this morning to the latest persons to have experienced the Lawrence Family Hospitality; David and Sheila Parker from Southampton U.K. who are just rounding out a ( much too brief) 2 week visit.

They met Mom ( finest problem solver the world ever saw), and Dad ( who never met a "stranger" in his life), last winter in Barbados and after discovering some remarkable parallels and shared experiences in their lives, they became "lifelong friends" instantly.

Their visit had been eagerly anticipated like "long lost relatives" and despite the weather, Mom and Dad managed a pretty full and interesting itinerary mix of culture, recreation and "down home" family get-togethers.

I'm not privy to all the shared experiences that those people find to talk about for hours on end.

They're nearly the same age, so despite being an ocean apart I'm sure they've faced similar challenges and some of the same generic family crises.

In the conversations I've had with the fun-loving "curmudgeon wanna-be" David, and the elegantly charming Sheila, I've reaffirmed my good fortune in being a member of my family.

The near incredulous delight in their eyes is like the light of God's love and the bright hopeful hearts of my family which led me from the darkness.

The warmth of their gratitude poignantly reminds me of the oasis of my family's love that sheltered me when my spirit was far, far from home.

How perfect strangers meeting in a strange place less than a year ago are today's Aunty Sheila and Uncle David lighting up the children's faces, sharing drinks and colorful jokes with the boys and gossip and recipes with the gals is a testament to the universal wonder and magic of sharing.

Like a shared loaf of day-old bread in lean times past, everyone gets a nice slice of peace, prosperity and joy at our family's table nowadays.

It's the way it's always been my friend. ( but with fresh bathwater)

It's a Family business.

G'day and God Bless.

Love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live ( spot on )

Limiting Out on Love #49

Morning Friend,

A single bloke needs all the help he can get on the wacky 21st century dating scene.

It's a jungle out there....a roiling sea....a frenzied maelstrom of uncertainty and peril.

Which is why, in an effort to calm the waters, I've "taken the gloves off" as it were and gone to the locked cupboard where the heavy guns are kept.

No I'm not talking mail-order brides here but something almost as sure of a thing.

Not a level playing field but one not imperceptibly tipped in MY favor.

I'm talking about renowned angler and ladies man Babe Winkelman's little known ( and surprisingly unpublished) guide to success for single gents: "FISHING FOR A DATE?....from Skunked to Scoring in 10 easy steps!"

As I began reading the dusty manuscript I was immediately stricken by one of those forehead slapping, "D-oh!...Why didn't I think of this before!?" moments.

He's taken several widely known elements of successful angling and applied them to the singles scene which for many single men is a veritable pond of loneliness.

I'll of course share some of Babe's brilliance with you today with a reminder that like the sport of fishing itself, you don't actually have to know how to fish in order to appreciate it.

I should also echo the sentiments of the guide's disclaimer which reminds the reader that "because LUCK is as much a factor in fishing as it is all areas of life, some days are just going to be "bad" ones, despite the very BEST of your efforts and intentions - remember, the thrill is in the chase....and at least you're not at WORK."

-BAIT Unless a gal is indiscriminately ravenous, like say a carp or a shark, she won't bite on anything unsavory. As you are the bait, you must appeal to all of her senses positively in order to trigger a feeding response. Freshness is appealing to all species. Loud or ridiculously matched clothing can and will frighten away many quality hits. Chumming the water with humorous or clever conversation is never a bad idea.

-PRESENTATION is the trickiest part of angling and goes to its' core....presenting the bait in the most flatteringly irresistible manner possible. Your mind should be a hooked array of sharpened wits and senses; a dazzling but not overwhelming...enticing but not overpowering LURE. Cast aside your inhibitions and troll the deepest depths undaunted by the odd, but easily overcome snag.

-LOCATION Fast-moving streams of females are often seen flowing in and out of nightspots around any urban region. But again the question begs what sort of catch are you after? Plenty of piranhas and scavengers to choose from here but you might be wise to try slower waters if it's "keepers" you want. There are as many locations to choose from as their are angling challenges, but none of them are attainable if you're at home on the couch in front of the T.V. or computer cutting bait.

-PATIENCE AND PERSISTENCE Forcing any issue at all with that particular hawg you've got on your finder is about as wise as yanking hard on a sunfish bite....nothing but grief all 'round. A fisherman trying too hard is about as subtle as blood in the water and likely to cause a leaving frenzy. The fishing story worth a shared lifetime will often have dozens of preambles positing and praising your patient persistence and aplomb. She will have been "...landed before she knew she was hungry!...".

-TACKLE an angler with his equipment in poor repair will be fishing the River of Tears and buying fillets on the way home. If you care for your gear like it was made to last a lifetime it will do so very effectively. Fresh lines and good leaders make for excellent action in even the most treacherous of structure, and unstructure.

-DEMEANOR & CHARACTER are as much keys to success in a fishing boat as they are on the Love Boat. The combination of steady hands, a keen eye and a stout heart distinguishes the pure angler from the bait cutting lunker. The strength of character gleaned from a healthy kinship with Nature and respect for all God's creation are a Master Angler's hallmarks.

-ETIQUETTE It is a popular myth really that fishing trips are nothing more than bawdy drunken getaways. Those are drinking trips with some fishing. A babbling drunk will catch just as many fish as he will dates -none of either- while the Fisher Man, at one with nature is feeling the undulations of his quarry with his soul and listening, to her approaching heartbeat as he visualizes her mouth....her lips.......

I'm sure if you've seen Babe Winkleman on television as I have my friend, you're probably having as hard a time as I did matching that jowly old mug of his to these powerful and insightful words, let alone his recently revealed reputation as a "chick magnet"?

Are there such things as "fishing show groupies"?

Nevertheless I can certainly see eye to walleye with him on several of his points.

It's cast things in a different light and given me some reel insight.

And if worse comes to worse I can always go fishing.

Or change my name to Babe?

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live ( barb-less )

The Rest Stop #48

Morning Friend,

According to the unwritten "code" on the Palliative Care Ward at St. Boniface General Hospital, "no-one dies alone".

Despite that fact that no person, not even a doctor can predict exactly how long a dying person has, there are definite physiological signs near the very end which are synonymous with someone's last hours.

It is at that point in time that family members who may not already be at the bedside are notified.

It is at that point that reluctant goodbyes are softly encouraged to those present who may still be in a state of denial or are perhaps yet praying for a miracle.

Such a sight of soft comforting caresses and whispered loving murmurings at the end of one's journey is at times as powerfully beautiful as a Mother's loving embrace at its' beginning.

There are occasions when family must travel from out of town or have just left the hospital for a break when this crisis stage arrives.

Or in some cases sadly where the patient has no family.

This is where the "code" comes into play and staff members take turns at the bedside until family members, or the end, arrives.

Unlike the nurses who have other patients' ongoing issues to mind, the bulk of this bedside duty was often gladly undertaken by yours truly.

I have as yet in my life experienced nothing as profoundly humbling or soulfully illuminating as this communion with the dying.

To whisper softly, "It's O.K. now....you're alright....it's O.K. to go now..." as you caress the worries out of a furrowed brow and grasp their cooling hand in a loving farewell as the Good Lord blessedly takes it into His own.

And you have MEANT those last words because it IS "O.K."....for that person's winding road of life has led them to this safe and spiritual place of earthly disembarkation where the fellow seeing them off is pretty much "A.O.K." !

What little you know of that person and their life, and whatever is going on in your life, become instantly insignificant to the poignant sharing of two heartbeats; one slow and hearty, the other weakly fluttering....until there is just one.

You don't have to experience that too many times before you develop a pretty fair appreciation for the beauty, fragility and calculably finite nature of life.

My own journey has been beset with a plethora of terrains and at times, pitfalls, but the years where my "road" was a hospital hallway accompanying those in their final mile was paved with supreme and sacred honor.

Now my friend, you're wondering "why?... on such a gorgeous summer morning Ab, are you writing about something so "bleak"???

Well it's because death is a part of life... it just happens to come at the end.

So until you get there, which you will too soon enough, I just felt like offering a friendly reminder - especially on such a fortuitously fantastic day.....to GET LIVING!

And also to say that any "problem" that life throws at you, short of a terminal illness, is just that: a problem short of a terminal illness.

And as a special Monday BONUS, I'd like to share a tribute I wrote to the "special" ( a word which doesn't nearly do them justice), people who work with the terminally ill.

At St. Boniface the ward is now located on the 8th floor but this was written at the time they transferred from the 3rd.....thus the reference to "Highway #3".

God bless them... bless you....share the blessings!

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live (compassionately)

The Rest Stop ( on Highway #3 ) by tImMy

Here did lone stars tarry between heaven and earth
Singe-winged angels found rest, redemption and safe passage
Here is where weary travelers paused between life and rebirth


Here did fretful souls strengthen thou bodies failed
No tear-soaked pillow could extinguish the fire of a lifetime
Here; the port from where valiant ships of destiny sailed


Here were last steps taken; uncertain and exquisite as the first
the intervening miles of triumph and tragedy were sustaining memories
Here the best was provided for those at their worst


The walls still echo with the passion of those who cared here
Their comforting faith rendered desperation into something somehow manageable
Here the floors are stained by those who managed all but their own tears


Here were forged fierce bonds of camaraderie, devotion and love
Many found purpose and exaltation within a phenomenal team
Days ended with the gratitude of strangers and the favor of God above


Here is where life's trivialities were treated inconsequentially
Everyone seemed to know a happier farmer on a rainy day
Here is where every easy breath was cherished exponentially


Here is where suffering became rapture and wretchedness glee
Heroes reigned on either side of a bedrail;
scientists and truckers, poets and housewives
Here is where the dying ceased, at the Rest Stop, on Highway # 3

Abraham's ( Summer) Glossary - #47

Morning Friend,

Because the beauty, the bounty and for some, the beastliness of Summer is so often indescribable, I have called upon my uniquely bent perspective and constructed a crude glossary to accomplish that very thing.

With August's arrival comes the MEAT of the summer season in this part of the world, so with none too great a measure of humility I present to you this morning, a "side of potatoes and gravy" as it were...

ABRAHAM'S ( SUMMER ) GLOSSARY

( with apologies to linguists... and the overly sensible/sensitive/sequestered)

* in no particular order

BLEEN - poor vision associated with cheap sunglasses.

NOSKEET - the speedy and seamless entry into a tent or cabin accompanied by the least number of insects possible.

PEERCHER - an obviously badly sunburned individual who continues to frolic in the sun seemingly unaware - or drunkenly indifferent- to their burgeoning blisters and imminent agony.

SKIRTION - a collision resulting from a driver's distraction by scantily clad pedestrians.

REPHALATION - the return of the male anatomy to its' normal state following cold water "shrinkage".

SHMEBS - the endless festoon of spiderwebs and caterpillar strings which strike one's face while walking in the woods.

SHWACKS - the endless branch-slaps in the face associated with walking too closely behind someone through moderate to heavy brush.

FUNGY - the way a log gets after a year or more on forest floor.

ORSINATION - the ability of dogs, cats, large rodents and even tree branches rubbing together in a dark forest at night to sound exactly like hungry bears.

SEROON - a pristine state of mind generated by the glassy surface of a lake on a windless day.

BOTTOMOBIA - fear of impending doom while in a leaky boat during bad weather.

FLEISHING - the acceptable practice of sharing untruths regarding fishing achievements.

EXFINATION - the increase in size ( usually 10% per "tell") of a fish in a fish story.

GOOSH - to start a campfire using gasoline, kerosene, or other highly flammable accelerants.

FROZID - the unfortunate and infinitely uncomfortable combination of being cold and in wet clothing simultaneously.

MOGG - irritating person ( often drunk) who incessantly and hazardly stirs and piles wood onto an already blazing campfire.

MOGG-DUNKER - one who hurls a Mogg into the nearest lake after having their hair and clothes set afire by an errant ember shower.

FARTILLA - the smell inside an enclosed tent or camper occupied by one or more imbibers of beans, legumes and/or several beer.

EXCELLENATURAMUNDO - the sound of car doors closing at the last pit stop before heading out of town for the weekend.

TOP DRAWER - expressing first class excellence such as campgrounds with hot showers and flush toilets.

CARDIOPAUSE - the momentary cessation of vital signs upon jumping into cold lake water.

DINKLING - the slow and often painstaking process of reaching thigh-depth into a cold lake.

COALITE - one extolling the oft unrecognized dietary virtues of carbon while eating a burnt-black wiener or marshmallow.

KAKITY - the smell and sound of the city after a weekend spent in the outdoors.

GOSHING - the suppression of common curses and epithets following a mishap, such as losing one's camera, watch or wallet out of a boat in deep water.

PALATADROME - the phenomenon of food tasting better cooked outdoors.

BLUELIP - the hypothermic appearance of manic but otherwise healthy children frolicking in cold lake water.

TICKORTIONISM - the self-examination of one's nether regions for wood ticks.

BUNYONIA - the exhilaration associated with splitting a log with a single blow.

BUNYACKING - the none-too precise process of removing an axe deeply imbedded in a large "green" log.

SHEWING - eating fish ( often poorly filleted), that has bones in it.

HERKEMER JERKWATER (1892-1912)- the one and only documented case of a man choking to death on a fish bone. Jerkwater, a drifter from Chicago where he was known as the "town drunk" reportedly had visited a less than reputable south side sushi bar where several witnesses described him drunkenly "inhaling" raw fish before an errant bone finally did him in.

RESERTAFICATION - the renewed appreciation for one's own bed after a weekend in a tent.

LURUSION - the misguided belief that the appetites of most fish species are enhanced by heavy rainfall.

APPETITIOUS - the smell of bacon cooking on a open fire.

FOCALBURNERS - ill fitting or ill advised styles of swimwear.

SOPHIAN - the extraordinarily wonderful way your wife or girlfriend feels ( and smells) in your arms after a weekend fishing with "the boys".

INCONTINENTAL - one running away from a bear.

URINTITIS - the non-emergent need to pee while in a sleeping bag which can wait till morning.

EUFORESTIA - the supreme sense of awe, wonder and gratefulness to God one experiences in Nature.

Enjoy the rest of the summer my friend!

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live ( interpreting)

Shine #46

Morning Friend,

I've been taken advantage of in recent weeks and I can't quite put into words, how wonderful it is.

No, I'm not talking about the advantage-taking that costs virtue, but rather the type that requires it.

And that would of course be, designated driving.

It is a heretofore unrealized joy to be so vigorously entrusted.

Oh I've given LOTS of people rides home in my life previously, but MANY of those times were very much hope-tinged and faith challenged.

Back then we hoped I was "still O.K. to drive" and held great faith and store in "the God who looks after drunks and small children".

I actually cringe when I think of the dozens of times I "one-eyed" it down the road foolishly flaunting a carload of friends' lives or woke up not remembering a 30 minute drive home the night before.

I must say I was never as bad as Rodney Dangerfield who, the day after a drunk had to "look for his car....and take back the car he took !"

Now, with a virtuous - or at least soberly so- Mr. Stainer running the shuttle, we all may have faith and comfort in the certainty that the night's revelry will end as perfectly as it should with everyone tucked in safely at home.

...well I don't actually do any tucking, but you get my drift.

As far as taking advantages go I'd have to call this a saw-off.

It's certainly a "win/win" for yours truly.

- I get to drive...a pure and personal pleasure.

- I don't drink anyway so I'm not sacrificing anything.

- I get to "work the room" with new jokes.

- I get regaled by the drink-inspired Wisdom of Kings.

- I get reminded of how "unwise" and "unkingly" drunks are.

- I get a small measure of redemption for past foolishness.

- I get my beloved friends home safe and sound.

- I get the good feeling associated with being on the right path with the Good Lord as my co-pilot.

It was at one of these recent functions that my own journey was lit with the memory of an old friend who lost his way on the path.

It seemed that most, if not all of the crowd remembered me for a poem I'd written for his funeral.

He was a most beloved fellow and it is a testament more to the enormity of his bittersweet legacy, than my humble words said 5 years ago which triggered so many sad smiles remembering "Johnny Shine".

Johnny was one of those individuals who actually shone; a light of enthusiastic eloquence, effervescent energy and unconstrained calamity to his world and all who were a part of its' wondrous collage.

He was a man of great excesses both good and bad, but the good far and away out-shone the bad and you would have liked him my friend.

On the road of his life however you would have to have called him a "reckless driver".

He wasn't killed in an automobile accident but he nevertheless died along his road, desperate, for a designated driver.

He was alone.

Truly and sadly.

If he'd only known then what I have since learned , I am certain that my friend Johnny Shine would have caught a ride with someone.

And knowing that keeps my co-pilot permanently in the jump seat.

And it makes being taken advantage of... like a ride home.

love tImMy:/

Johnny’s Shine by Tim Lawrence

Wait for me down at the riverbank Johnny, with crawlers whiskey and a song

Sing loudly so I can find you, but wait cause I won’t be too long

Tell me a story at the riverbank Johnny, make me laugh while you’re catching more fish

Smile like the glistening water, grin like God’s granted your wish

Catch me a fish at the riverbank Johnny, put your line true to the test

Fish till you’ve limited out, till it’s time to finally rest

Sing me a song at the riverbank Johnny, I’ll join in and sing along with you

We’ll sing about heartache and pain, about sweet love precious and true

Hold my hand down at the riverbank Johnny, I’m hurting and I need to know

Was the Winter’s too long frozen river, the reason that you had to go?

Let’s say a prayer at the riverbank Johnny, put down your rod and your pain

Let’s look to the heavens together, and pray we’ll be here once again

The sunshine rains down on the riverbank Johnny, you’ve caught now release all your woes

Your wonderful spirit is sailing dear friend, away upon God’s river flow

Wait for me down at the riverbank Johnny, I’ll join you and we’ll wet a line

There’s “honey” spots along Heaven’s river, for you and me dear Johnny Shine

For My Friend Johnny Peters

May 2004

Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live (advantageously)