I wiggle my toes in the sands of time,
sifting through the grains and the years gone by.
Lamenting those years I was in my prime.
How fast, they seem now, to have flown by.

Sifting through the grains and the years gone by,
I recall the adventures in my life.
How fast they seem now, to have flown by,
through childhood, teen years, to become a wife.

I recall the adventures in my life.
Of scars and bruised ego's, that brought me here,
through childhood, teen years, to become a wife.
It seems I really had nothing to fear.

Of scars and bruised ego's that brought me here,
I realize now how they did mold me.
It seems I really had nothing to fear,
except for a future, I can not see.

I realize now, how they did mold me.
I relive my life, as the scenes unfold,
except for a future I can not see,
yet looking forward, to what my future holds.

Reliving my life, as the scenes unfold,
lamenting those years I was in my prime.
Yet, looking forward to what my future holds,
I wiggle my toes in the sands of time.

Now this was way back in seventy-five,
when seat belts weren't worn, to keep you alive.
On a winding, ocean highway, we drove,
the weather, clear and sunny at the cove.

As we came to the spot that goes round,
my husband, then boyfriend, did slow down.
He reached for his seat belt, he never used,
then said, "Maybe you should put yours on too".

We drove round that bend, then it happened.
It was like a big hand was the weapon.
We were hit with such force we both did wobble,
in our seats, then we saw our new trouble.

We were sliding quickly across the lanes,
heading for a guardrail that would save us pain.
But we missed that saviour rail by quite a ways.
Down the grassy hillside we slid sideways.

At that moment, went by, two speeding big rigs,
trying to pass side by side round that bend.
One had been in our lane, coming head on,
the other, his bumper, along the guardrail, slid on.

Coming to a stop between a tree trunk and large boulder.
Our car had started to want to roll over.
Being held there, with two wheels in the air,
Railroad tracks, fifty feet were below us there.

We sat and took stock of our fortunate good luck.
We could have been mowed down by either truck.
As for hubby to have just then, used a seat belt,
something guided him, he was sure that he felt.

We both managed to crawl from the tilted car,
there were two dents in the door, we were jarred.
As we began our long climb up that hill,
we noticed the air go perfectly still.

The car moaned wanting to finish it's roll,
as a train flew by on the tracks just below.
At the top of the hill , we could only stare,
and relive, what had just happened there.

Our lives that day had been saved more than once.
Of evidence of what had transpired, there was.
The tree, where the rear of the car was seated,
was recently uprooted, falling just where needed.

The dents in the door were hand sized
and spread apart from each other, just right.
As though a divine source from above,
had given our car, a much needed shove.


Note:  This is a true recounting of what took place
while hubby and I were driving
along the Oregon Coast Highway 101
in August of 1975

As my Precious sits on my desk,
shedding and watching with interest.

I take a drink from my cup.
A hair sticks to my tongue..eew yuk.

She is pleased with herself and wags,
her tail, hair flies off like flags.

They are small, black and everywhere.
Making patterns on all of the chairs.

Little drifting smiles of hair,
residing on my clothes without care.

This much hair from a small Chihuahua,
it's not possible, no not at all.

It's not as if she's going bald.
But then, Kojack, she could be called.

Oh look!  You have some hair that she's shared.
I'll take care of that, you wait right there.

I'll just run and get my  trusty lint roller.
Better yet!   I'll get my leaf blower.

The journey of a tear drop,
heralds a wall broken down.
Having held back the feelings,
that once started, cannot stop.

Heralds a wall broken down,
infidelity arrives, lost trust,
that once started, cannot stop.
Happiness, not love, but lust.

Infidelity arrives. Lost trust.
Confusion of what you feel.
Happiness, not love, but, lust.
You are on a spinning wheel.

Confusion of what you feel,
spawning hatred, when you loose all.
You are on a spinning wheel,
you are destined for this fall.

Spawning hatred when you lose all,
having held back the feelings.
You were destined for this fall,
the journey of a tear drop.

Once a feral kitten, that hubby took pity on
Found in a scrap yard, to hubby, he did bond.

I carry jars of homemade jam, down the basement stairs.
He swipes at my legs, I drop the jars.  He doesn't care.
I'm straitening the bathroom drawer, he gets all frenzied.
Later on that day, I find, all the contents emptied.

I pick fresh flowers, neatly arrange them in a vase,
it only took few seconds.  There's petals on his face.
Our, brand new, leather furniture arrives, to our joy.
He claws the cushion up, looking for his catnip toy.

Christmas tree full of lights, with my antique ornaments.
He attacked!  Maybe he thought he was protecting us?

You might ask why it is we keep such a rascal cat.
Look at that innocent face.  I couldn't refuse that.
When it is, that we think about redecorating,
we just point and say, "This is why we can't have nice things"

Aged and mellowed, golden whiskey in a wide mouth Mason jar.
Poured over sweet rock candy, was the guaranteed cure,
of ticklish throats; sprained ankles; hair loss; hang nails and more.
Always kept on hand, for times of desperate need,
of which Grandpa had a profound proclivity for.
No glass nor tablespoon was needed to dispense this elixir.
Just twist the ring, pop the lid, up end the jar and let it slide
down your parched throat..ummm, I mean,  soar throat.
I remember well, my first bout with laryngitis at the age of seven.
Grandpa hurried off, to get the magical jar of homemade "Cure".
Minutes later, he came in, carrying the jar like a precious jewel.
Pouring some of that honey hued nectar into a large serving spoon.
Tasting it first, making sure it hadn't gone bad, of course.
Then he slipped the spoon edge between my lips.
Boy-howdy, my eyes watered, I coughed for a spell.  
Then slept like a baby.