Halloween rescue

It seems that rescue is a way of life.  I had a friend years ago who said, in an evaluation, that I would find the good in any scumbag.  This was good, she said, often.  But sometimes there is no good.  I still disagree with her, over 27 years later.  

We bought a pumpkin on Saturday,

It needed a home.

We call it

A plotz pumpkin,

Affectionately

Of course.

It looks partially

Melted

In a pumpkin kind of way.

No way it can stand up straight.

No way to carve it.

We scoured the patch

To find

A pumpkin with character.

This one fit the bill.

We do this every year.

This year we have a plotz pumpkin

With character

And a companion pumpkin

Full of warts.

Thank God we have an artificial Christmas tree.

We cart it up from the basement

Every year.

Years ago we got it on discount.

It was the going model

From two years before.

Who knew they had models?

At least we don*t have needles

All over the carpet;

We are attracted to real trees

With character.

At least with the model from 14 years ago,

There is a place to hang

Years and years worth

Of ornaments.

The cat we got from the animal shelter

Is still going strong.

Sunday afternoon nap

Years and years of Sundays as a member of the clergy take their toll.  Nearly every clergyperson I know with one service, two, or three, looks forward to the Sunday afternoon nap.  Somehow I thought, when I left parish ministry, it would change.  Nope.  I think it*s in the bones, or blood, or sinews.  The Sunday afternoon nap.

I just woke up.

Even though Sundays have a different pattern

These days,

Already I long

For the Sunday afternoon nap

The pumpkins are in the planters,

Ready for Halloween.

The day is chilly.

Church is soon.

Today we celebrate Reformation Sunday.

Our Lutheran is on the roster

To preach.

She preaches well but still I find myself

Remembering

The Sunday afternoon nap.

It calls out

Its possibility

Even before I finish my morning coffee.

Tracing the routes

I remember more dreams Saturday mornings.  Perhaps it*s because often I can sleep in, and I get more morning sleep.  A luxury.  I traveled a lot last night.  A lot were church dreams and church people (I have been in a lot of different churches and met a lot of different people over the years).  At night they all blend together.  In the morning I figure out where the dreams came from, particularly on Saturday morning, when everyone else sleeps longer than I do.

At night I travel.

Sometimes I only take out road maps,

Trace the routes with my finger.

Sometimes the places are real.

Only a couple details

Are changed.

Most often

A conglomeration of places

Is moved to different states

Or countries.

The people who live there

Are jigsaw puzzles of people

I once knew

With familiar smiles.

That*s the way with dreams.

Any reality at all

Is possible.

Most often an element of truth

Lives there.

I can trace the route back

To where I encountered it.

I can find the towns in Illinois I visited

Growing up

In Minnesota.

Sober

I have had a new feeling word added to my vocabulary: existent.  When a person has gotten used to not feeling anything, existent can be a good place to start.  Across the room from existent was exuberant,  Quite the range.

The group began with mindfulness,

Shorthand for closing our eyes

And being quiet for a time.

Then came the feeling word,

A group rule,

A house rule.

Last night they were also asked

For weekend plans.

The second to the last guy said he felt

Existent.

Everyone knew

What he meant.

So much of chemical use

Is escape from the world

As it really is.

The last guy asked

If everyone knew the word sober really meant:

Son Of a B****, Everything*s Real.

The laughter lasted

A long time.

I never would have thought existent

Was a feeling word.

Clearly

It is.

Messy bits

There is a reason why people come to particular people.  If they ask for a book that involves the messy bits of life, and you*re not the librarian in the public library, there*s a reason why it*s you.  Sure, they may also be looking for a book, but it is you they are asking.  

When you are asked for something,

Pay particular attention

To the fact

It is you they asked.

There are no books,

For example,

That will resolve the messy bits

Of life

As we know it.

There is no equivalent

Of

What to Expect When You*re Expecting

For divorce

For dying

For

My husband is an alcoholic and says he will stop drinking

Tomorrow.

When you are asked for something,

Like a book,

Pay particular attention to the fact

It is you they asked.

Sit down.

I said Sit down.

Offer the chair opposite you.

Put on the tea kettle.

Hearts sing

I took four weeks off of internship after the seizure.  Now that I*ve returned, I find a different experience.  Somehow I have more to offer, more to expect, more to experience.  I even have more in common, somehow.  More of me combines with more of them.  Tonight is music night in group.  Tonight I expect harmony of a different sort.  We all have color to add to the group.  I am grateful.

It*s music night

At the halfway house.

The guys will bring in songs

That speak to their recovery.

There is something about the way

Words and music combine.

Hearts sing.

Last night was gratefulness

After dinner.

One of the new guys said

He was grateful

For adding color

To the house.

There are a lot of ways to sing

At the halfway house.

Last music night the group next door

Applauded through the walls.

There is something about the way

Words and music combine.

Hearts sing whether they are in the room

Or not.

Other things

Yes, we helped unload the pumpkins this year... but we have not prepared for the holiday, even though we love to see the children dressed up, and carve pumpkins. The Mr. Mustard costume has not seen the light of day.   This is one of those years when other things have gotten in the way.  They are beginning to settle down.  Maybe it will look normal soon.  Maybe.

It is cold and wet and windy.

Usually we have our pumpkins

By now.

Usually we have thought of what we will wear,

Unearthed the Mr. Mustard costume

Jeff is proud of.

This year we have been distracted

With other things.

Still

The church lawn is full

Of pumpkins.

Mr. Mustard is somewhere

In the house.

Halloween is a few days away.

Soon the time change will give us more light

In the morning.

Soon

Other things

Will be not so other,

But part of the normal routine.

We will be able to think again

About pumpkins

And Mr. Mustard.

Maybe it will be in time

For Halloween.