The Blog

I really (almost) had a handle (the size and strength of a well used tooth pick) on where this blog was going (some where near east – ish or it may have been quazi-southesque).  There are more components to the Major and Darcy Weaver; new stories and an inkling of Darcy’s backstory, but its the day-to-day that’s taking a sharp…hell, it different.

Again, in one of my past lives; I worked in patient care, in hospitals and some private duty…that role is being revised.  The puppy (I travel no-where without her) and I are moving in with the Octogenarians for 6 to 12 months, depending on how treatment and recovery go.  

This is going to be a process for the Octogenarians and me (as long as there are treats and an outside, the pup is quite content.

Monday is moving day and the pup has not even started to pack, even to get stuff sorted out.

Wish me well and pray for the octogenarians, here we come.

Much luv and Peace Out!



Who/What Am I Today

The daily question: What am I going to do tomorrow.  How stupid is that?

0500, the SWMBO is showering, preparing for another day in the “orifice”.  The kids ; fed, moderately played with, walked and soon to be neglected for the balance of the day as I sneak away…to meditate…to meditate on the question: should I continue my studies to become a meditation instructor?  How stupid is that?

My turn to prepare for the outside world; the donning of the distractions; ornate rings on either hand (two for the right one for the left), several bracelets, leather and wood, outlandish socks, poly-chrome shoes, stylish cane and always a hat.  Always an odd old bird, but few see the tremors, the twisting and jerks, or so I like to think.  Like a four year old that makes himself invisible…by covering his eyes. How stupid is that?

This morning its take the octogenaria to the hospital, more tests…still no answers

I’ll wait ’til tomorrow to answer all my questions.  Really, just how stupid is that?

Illustration: Calligraphy-Zen Art by Qiao Sen


A 365 Daily Challenge: Day 7

There are times when you must follow a certain pilgrim.

Espen Stenersrød- From Pen To Heart

Day 7
Topic: Seed growing

Yesterday I planted a seed
I was dedicated to leave it
And let it just breath it’s way through
So i named the seed ,be
And left it like that

When I returned
It had merged with the seeds
Life and grief
And was torn between 
Exist or fade
I watered them both
Before it had a choice
And then I left it to be again

On my return be had been busy
Faded grief and let life exist within the seed

It said to me,
In the beginning it was all dark
A small spark ignited and a voice spoke
I am life, feed me and I will feed you everything.
From my right I could hear a whisper 
And that was all it said

I was left curious
For days I was left with myself
To draw the lines between what…

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The Diamond In-The-Rough Family Jewel: Dad

Mallie Bleau Moore, Jr, Cdr. U.S.N. (ret.), (1919-1993)

There are so very many sides to this man, not all pleasant to look at.  He was undeniably…human and in many ways amazing.  I have five siblings, a fact he often bragged about; my three sisters and two younger brothers (one I met when he acted as ring bearer at Dad’s wedding…to his mother).

Dad had a habit of being out of the country when any of his children were born.  I started the tradition.  My mother and I lived with Mom and Grampy Vogt, in Scarsdale, which was to say, we were isolated from my of the world.

Dad was being transferred to Norfolk, VA after serving three years as part of the Occupation Forces in Japan, the most important thing was I was going to ride a train with my Dad.

Like most four year olds, I stood for the first few hours and demonstrating my rather precocious nature, I asked questions about everything.  Dad demonstrated his wisdom…he answered each and every one.

My first observation, upon seeing our Conductor (the first African American I had ever seen), “Daddy, look, there’s a chocolate man.”  To which he replied, “Yes sir, he’s chocolate, I’m vanilla, I’ve seen lemon men and even strawberry men.  All great flavors, just remember, son, they’re all men.”

I continued to pester him for another four hours.  Some how I knew that he had and would have marvelous gifts to share.Image 

Why Fairy Tales?

In my “About” page I talked of writing about “My Family Jewels”, and then, for no apparent reason, I insert a 4 part story, a fairy tale.  What, may you ask, has this to do with The  Family Jewels.

I’ve pulled down an ancient tome, binding and pages worn through constant use: Anderson’s Fairy Tales, its first page has, in pencil, 5/6 in the upper right corner (an exorbitant price for the time) and across the balance of the page, written with a fine point Esterbrook fountain pen (that I came to know well):

“Dear Mike,

May the pleasures of these stories stay with you forever, and may be make life good fun for believing in “little men” and fairy tales-


3 February 1953″

Fairy Tales are and have been a big slice of my Family Jewels.