They Made Me Do It......I didn't want to Do it ......

Close In On The Cure

Close In On The Cure
fountain at Love Park, Philadelphia, PA turned pink in October for breast cancer awareness

Saturday, July 11, 2009

....Continued See The Small Children ....

Momma and I use to go to church early on Sundays, ya know to get a good seat; momma use to say we needed a good seat near the front, by the alter so we could be closer to God.

I use to like to sit near the front so as I could see what was going on; besides it just seemed that's where all the kids from my seventh grade class use to sit with their parents.

There was Jason and Mr. and Mrs. Cumberlink, Mr. Cumberlink when he was in town. He travelled a lot selling vacuum cleaners, it always seemed to me they were rich, but momma said having money didn't make you no better than anybody else and that Mr. Cumberlink didn't really have a very respectable position in the community because he was always travelling. Momma said to truly be respectable you ought to be home at the dinner table with your family.

There were Mr. and Mrs. Beetle and Jimmy Beetle. Jimmy had pretty long curly blond hair for a boy and a kid our age. All the teachers liked Jimmy, they use to say what a handsome boy he was; come to think of it everybody seemed to like Jimmy. He was real funny and real smart and captain of the football team. All the guys use to tease him cause he was so popular, but not too much teasin, because even though Jimmy was a lot of fun he could get real mad if you kept the teasin up. I once saw him take his clenched fist right up to Herman Miller's face and threaten to drown Herman dead in the creek one summer if Herman didn't do exactly what Jimmy said.

Herman was our star quarterback for the football team; they said he was real good. I don't know, cause I never liked football or any of the other sports. In fact I hated sports. I hated to run and I hated gym and I hated that we didn't play with a real football cause we didn't have enough money to buy one, instead we use to get a sturdy stick and toss it around and tackle each other to make a touchdown. Momma said it didn't matter if I didn't like sports, long as I studied, learned my lessons well, grew up, got married, had a few kids and got a respectable job I'd do ok. I remember one crisp fall day when daddy suggested he and I go out to toss around the stick, I didn't want to play football, he was ok with it, seemed a little surprised and confused but he didn't say much, just put his arm around my shoulder and said son, if you don't want to play you don't have to, maybe you'll want to bat the ball a little this Spring... to be continued...

Friday, July 10, 2009

....Continued See The Small Children ....

Momma and I use to go to church a lot, bout three times a week, always on Fridays, once bout the middle of the week, usually the same day we had pot roast and of course on the big day, God's day, that being Sunday. Daddy never ever went, said he didn't believe in God and use to tell momma she'd be a better use to any man especially him, if she spent less time wrapping her fingers around those stupid beads and more time learning about the needs of a man. He always said God didn't write it nowhere in his book that a woman's hands were only for pleasin the rosary beads and a cookin and a cleaning and a washin of brats, and that if momma would pay more attention to what God really said, which was that a woman was made for pleasin a man, that she and daddy would be a lot better off. Oh, momma would get so upset when he would say things like that; she would sit at the kitchen table with her teacup and our grey and white striped cat curled and sleeping on her foot; she would wrap her finger over and over, round and round her blonde curls and between a tear here and there that would sneak out and take what seemed forever to roll over her large cheekbone she'd say - don't listen to your father, he is tired, he works so hard, he is a good man; go work on your lessons; or in the warmer months she'd say, why don't you call Mrs. Cumberlink's boy Jason and a few of the other kids and go swimming down the creek. It seemed the whole town showed up at church, even if they didn't go on Friday or bout the middle of the week, ya know pot roast night, or maybe they ate somethin different on that night, they all showed up on Sunday. ... to be continued

....Continued See The Small Children ....

Never really liked kids much; didn't like em when I was one, didn't like em when I was all growed up. Mama use to say kids was a nuisance, had a bathe em, would smell if ya didn't and momma knew, she was smart like that; ya hadda feed em, check their teeth and they made a lot a noise, momma always said and she was right like that. It was always very quiet around the house, momma made sure of that because she said daddy needed his sleep, he worked real hard during the days and just as hard getting those corks off the whiskey bottles during the evening time.

Daddy was the ice man for everybody in the town; he was real nice to all the ladies where we lived when he would deliver their ice in that big truck of his. Sometimes he was nicer to them than he was to me and momma, and those ladies ~ well they sure did a lot of smiling at daddy. Momma didn't like those ladies, she never made any friends with those neighbor ladies as she called them. She use to say those ladies were dirty rotten pigs, and the only reason they smiled at daddy was because he was so handsome, and that they had married dirty - no good men, and daddy was a respectable kinda man and they was jealous that they didn't have a good man like momma did; but daddy well, he did a lot of smiling back at those ladies and sometimes when I would go delivering the ice with him in his big ice truck, sometimes he wouldn't finish work until way past eight o'clock, when we was supposed to be finished around four on a early day and five on a later day.

I hated those late days, because you never knew when they was going to happen; it seemed hard to plan a day. In the wintertime I hated it because I missed ice skating down the creek with all the kids. In the summertime, sometimes we'd go for a swim after baseball.

Anyways it always seemed after one of those ladies, one in particular named Mrs. Cumberlink, usually the one that smelled so nice, sort of like the lily of the valley that growed in mommas garden, she would ask daddy if he would step inside and take a look at her icebox; it often seemed once he got inside Mrs. Cumberlink's icebox that he would poke his head out and say to me, "boy wait in the truck"; I'll be out in a little while; sometimes I would be out there in the truck bout an hour. It was on those days when daddy and I would finally get home that our house would be smelling like smoke and momma would be down on her knees rocking back and forth with her fingers shaking, clasped round her rosary beads saying over and over forgive him lord, he knows not what he does, he is a good man; and there would be our dinner black as coal in a pot on the stove, and I would most times miss whatever was going on at the creek that day.

to be continued ....

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Do you see the Small Children down by the Creek? Legend has it they Never Really Lived?

To Be Continued ...
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"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society." Krishnamurti

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results".
~ Albert Einstein" (1879 - 1955)

The topic of today's post would be the daily grind, what occurs after the morning alarm goes off.

What happens after your morning alarm blares that deafening sound and you begin the daily pattern, yawning, stretching, bracing yourself for another day? Are you the sort who bounces out of bed anxious to awake with a warm shower and then off to the gym, whistling and sipping your morning coffee as you go; or the moment the dreaded thing rings, do you sit on the edge of the bed wiping the sleep from your eyes pondering day in and day out why you are following this same pattern? I am of the sort that thinks constantly, questioning this and that, wondering
why and where and should I or shouldn't I and maybe, but what if and in the end it seems the answer always comes down to money. Would I do what I am doing if it were not for the almighty president centered in the middle of a piece of paper that has spending power; but there are and have been many times throughout my years on the planet that I feel and think just like the quotations within this post and believe that I resemble my friend Patrick in the photo above.

Like Patrick, my pink friend I put on a happy face, dress myself up, push myself out and start all over again, but as I walk the crooked and confusing road of life, sometimes behind me, I seem to feel the slight nip, nip, nip of the Tasmanian Devil, at my heels, that little bit of "life" chuckling at me with its costly fangs, and its tongue wagging questions regarding health care costs, investments, the mortgage and retirement issues. Sometimes I feel its green little arms ready to reach out and grab my happiness, to pull me down from my perch and strangle the carefully cultivated bits of serenity that have been methodically worked on and placed within my soul. It is during these times I must grab my friend the Tazmanian devil by his shoulders, shake him, refusing him to gain control and reiterate the words of Albert Einstein and show him just who is in charge of their own life!
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Sunday, July 5, 2009

As Promised in a Previous Post .....

Let me share with you a delicious and inexpensive recipe for an outstanding BBQ
sauce. In today's economy it is always good to save a little if you can and the following recipe is not only cost effective but super easy and lip smacking good!

BBQ Sauce

what you need ~

one cup ketchup
one tbs Dijon mustard
one tbs brown sugar
one tbs red or cider vinegar
one tbs balsamic vinegar
juice of 1/2 fresh lemon
salt and pepper to taste

what to do ~

combine all ingredients into a mixing bowl and mix with a whisk until homogeneous.

that's it! ~ goes great on pork, chicken or beef and Happy Grilling! :)

Saturday, July 4, 2009

I Am Prudence!

Between the sheets, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

I am Prudence and here I am in my bed and I just love it!

I Am Prudence!

My mother isn't quite as computer savvy as she should be, however she has made great strides in the last year. She really likes to take pictures, pictures of everything, especially pictures of me; I actually despise that pesky camera with all the changes of lenses and this light and that light. Anyway, last January she joined Flickr; but she was rather shy and embarrassed, not knowing if her photos were any good, so she went under cover and used my name prudencebrown. Now if I wasn't so confident, I could have suffered an identity crisis; prudencebrown is actually the second name I have had in the five short years of my life. I was originally named Yenta; Yenta -can you imagine giving someone as adorable as myself that ugly name, but I was one of several of the "Y" litter and they just picked the most horrible name, in my opinion for me.

I didn't always have my mother; in fact I use to have to work really hard. I use to run 15 miles a day hunting rabbits. I was one of fifty! We were led by our fearless leader, the Master of the Hunt. Now they said my parents were really good hunters and my brothers and sisters as well, but I just didn't like it. It wasn't the running in the fields, feeling the wind blowing through my ears and the fresh moist dew beneath my paws I didn't like, it was just there were so many other enjoyable sensations, the smell of the crisp, fresh air on a Fall morning, the sound of the pretty dressed women and the fancy dressed men in the crowd, here and there little buttercups in the lawn, it just seemed whenever I would run with what they called "the pack" I just couldn't seem to stay in line with all of them. I think it is because I am more the artistic sort and often times become immersed in my surroundings; so I was dismissed for inappropriate behavior.

That's when I met my mother, her name is Holly. She came to the kennel where I lived with the fifty other hunting dogs and she brought something I had not tasted before, she called them treats and they are delicious! She took me to her house. Everything is really different here. My favorite thing is that big fluffy bed and that soft comfortable couch I sleep on whenever I want. There is no getting up at a particularly early hour to run fifteen miles through the fields and have to hunt that poor little rabbit. Now when I see a rabbit, I can just look at him and then look at my mother and she says everything is ok, and I am not expected to do anything. I go for long walks with her and my dad and sometimes he will even take me swimming.

All in all life is good; I still get in trouble for following my nose wherever it goes; but I hear them say that's why "she" always has to be on leash, because she is a beagle who will follow that hunting nose wherever it goes.

And ~ on that note, it has been really nice meeting everyone; I hope that you will come back and read the blog often; I'm trying to talk mom in to letting me be a featured writer. In the meantime, it is time for my nap! Sweet Dreams!!

Friday, July 3, 2009

Living In America

First let me introduce my friend, chef and former business associate Jeff Davis from Full of Soup in Philadelphia at the Bellevue Hotel. Anyone who knows Jeff knows he is as silly as he is creative and talented. He is the author of all of the poetry on the blog, as well as all of the recipes and will on occasion be a contributing editor. This photo is indicative of certainly his silliness, but
also shows the remnants of a creatively prepared delicious spare rib. I am hoping to grab the
barbecue sauce recipe for what I call this Happy Birthday America photo!! May you all have
a lip smacking, finger licking, tongue wagging Fourth of July!!
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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

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The Daisy


"All summer she scattered the daisy leaves; they only mocked her as they
fell. She said: the daisy but deceives; he loves me, he loves me not;
one story no two daisies tell, ah foolish heart, which waits and grieves
under the daisies mocking spell." Helen Hunt
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Thursday, July 2, 2009

Happy Fourth of July

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Happy Fourth of July

What is it about the Forth of July and Summer that bring everyone to the beach? People travel great distances, sit in traffic jams, pay high gasoline and travel costs, arrange and rearrange airline schedules and why? Is it simply to sit on a beach and feel the warmth of the sand, is it to run through the water to cool yourself from the scorching heat, is it for the companionship of family and friends or the possibility of meeting an interesting stranger or to celebrate the birthday of a nation with fireworks and festivities?

As I am forever pondering the thoughts and meaning of everything, the element I believe that ties all of the "whys" together is love; love for the feel of the soft and warm sand against your tired and sore muscles, love for the feel of the cool water against scorched and sweating skin after the sun has been blazing upon you, love for the feeling you feel when surrounded by loved ones who you see every day or maybe have not seen for some time, the joy you feel with your family and friends while grilling a hot dog or pouring a beer or pulling up your lounge chair, with
your mosquito repellent at the fireworks.

Whatever it is that pulls you to the sand and surf continuously enjoy it and savor it, because as we all know the harsh winds of the seasons change and in a few months many of you will be trudging through the snow and slush with overcoats and boots. So as you gather your belongings for your suitcase, prepare your grocery lists for the barbecue, and make those dates for fireworks gatherings, remember ....... savor the moment and don't forget the mosquito repellent! Have a wonderful Fourth of July and be safe!!
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Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Illusion ~ by Arthur Miller

Arthur Miller's exact quote on illusion as promised in the last post:

"The task of the real intellectual consists of analyzing illusions in order to discover their causes."

These Boots were made for ........?!

sunlight, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

This was one of the first photos I took while taking photography classes and I have had many comments, likes, dislikes and people with disturbed thoughts toward it.

To me it gives off an illusion - and to quote from Mark Twain ~ "Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live."

Do you think this is true? Is music and theatre really not filled with illusion and how would you feel if music and theatre were gone? Are novels and fiction not filled with illusion and would you not miss the fictional word?

Now there are those who believe illusion is not good. I use to write children's stories and often times editors would dismiss a story if the characters were anthropomorphized and some mothers did not want their children growing up reading stories such as Cinderella or Bambi; but as Arthur Miller once said and I can only paraphrase since I do not have the exact quote, it is the job of the intellectual to find the root cause of the illusion. I will post Arthur Miller's exact quote at a later date, just as soon as I can locate it.

~ and thus I end my post on illusion for the day wondering --- does anyone have any thoughts?