Bugs…

I like bugs

Bugs like me-

I can stomp

They climb a tree!

Bugs can be harmful

Bugs can be scary-

Some bugs are bald

And some bugs are hairy!

When a bug is sighted

I don’t run and hide-

Instead I pick it up

And place it outside!

At the end of the day

If any survive-

Two bugs will stand tall

And do a high five!

We won!!!  This time!!!

Bugs

I have always had a very intimate acquaintance with bugs. In India, it is hard not to. Since I was a wee baby toddling about my house and gardens, they have always been there to escort me. My own personal convoy of buzzing, biting, tickling little freaks. Many a solitary, rambling walks have I taken over hills and meadows and well, noisy trafficy roads, with them as my constant companions. I won’t say the relationship we have built over the past twenty years has grown to be particularly fulfilling; in fact there are times that I am very tempted to outright squash them, those annoying little midgets. But then again, isn’t that how all relationships work out?

Growing up, I was always by myself. Not that I didn’t have girls who wanted to be friends with me; quite the opposite. I just didn’t particularly like their company. Playing with dolls and doing makeovers and painting each others nails…bleh. Oh and the worst of the lot – gossiping. I never got it. I still don’t. What pleasure could these people possibly get by picking someone else’s life to pieces? So I boycotted them and went on long excursions to places wild, something I am always going to be eternally grateful to my country for having. And that’s where my true friends played with me. Dancing with the butterflies, crawling along with centipedes, chasing spiders and following them to their webs. It was fun. In my teens, I would often sit on the edge of my terrace, surrounded by the reassuring drone of chirping crickets and think. Later still, could any girl ask for a more fascinating model to practice her amateur photography on? One who would stay so obligingly still always; waiting till I got the perfect angle.

I never had any pets but if I did, I think I would adopt the whole of Insectdom.

Don't bug me. I'm busy :)

It appeared from a distance that she was floating on an undulating carpet on her back carefree and relaxed.  As he got closer to her, he saw that a legion of sturdy water bugs were carrying her on their backs.  They were a thousand strong, under her,  going through her hair,  grooming her skin for dead morsels, cleaning away her waste particles with their little mandibles and fore feet.  she wore no clothes, but was clothed by their backs facing outward, and their tickly feet facing inward.

They stopped under a tree and with careful orchestrated engineering feats lowered her to the soft moss and got out from under her.  As humans go, she was a tremendous weight and caused them great consternation when her body parts swung freely and unexpectedly.  She was very sleepy and did not often stir on her own accord, but the body shifted on the hills and they had lost a phalanx this trip, from a leg thrown off and her belly flopping over behind it.


Crawling up the trees, they cut leaves that fluttered down and were tugged into place to cover her.  Night was coming and they needed to secure the camp against unfriendly colonies that might try to steel their queen.

All the army would be in a ring facing out surrounding her as she slept.


He was careful not to get too close.  He did not want to trigger the alarm.  Death would surely be the result.   She opened her eyes and smiled at him.  He had never seen a more peaceful face.  A steady stream of bugs were lined up with bits and berries to shove in her mouth.  All she had to do was open a narrow bit. lick out her tongue and chew. 

She paused to speak...  a few bugs tumbled out from scrubbing her tongue

 I want to join you , he stammered out.

Lepidoptera

Lepidoptera, my favorite kind of bug...Probably one of the biggest differences between Washington State where I had lived and California, my new home, was the multitude of butterflies available for my scientific collecting. I was twelve and running with my net through the fields and gullies behind our new house. The yellow swallowtails could be found all over the milkweed plants and I actually watched them lay eggs on the stalks. In the dry creek bed the giant Buckeye trees made cooling shade and the Buckeye butterflies fanned out their wings and clung to their flowers making little brown owls with big eyes appear out of nowhere on the leaves.  The common White Cabbage Spot was the only one I recognized from my previous home in the Northwest. It looked dull and flighty next to these new varieties so brilliant in the California sun.

I felt a new freedom in this summer of '56.  There was no rain to soak wings, no cold to keep us locked up.  The bright hot sun kept us out in the air and out under the shade, and out running and resting,  the butterflies and I.

bugs.. seriously?

orlando florida..  1979

'SHRIEEEEEEEEEK! PACK UP THE KIDS, WE ARE NOT SLEEPING IN THIS HOUSE ONE MORE NIGHT!'

next thing i know, we are all sleeping in the van.

apparently, my ma was trying to do a nice thing for my aunt by cleaning house while she was at work.  she was rummaging around in the closet.. and saw a palmetto bug.. or it saw her first and came flying at her.  poor ma, that was the first and last time i ever remember hearing her actually scream.  haha

*****

riegelsville, pennsylvania..  1999

'SHRIEEEEEEEEEEK!  WEN.. CALL THE LANDLORD, WE HAVE.... <gasp> COCKROACHES!'
she is dancing around and squealing and crying and if i didnt know better, i would have.. laughed.

what?  how?  are you sure?

Those people downstairs!  I knew they would be nothing but trouble! 

oh, come on...

I'M CALLING THE LANDLORD NOWWWWWW!

no, just calm down.  i'll call.

apparently, lydia was kind enough to help the older couple move some of their things out of their apartment that day.  what she saw sent her running, in a panic, upstairs to our apartment to check for signs.  sure enough.. we had the dreaded.. cockroach infestation.  one thing my ma and her completely agreed on.  cockroaches were the most disgusting, dirty, disease ridden, creepy crawlies on earth.  after the traumatic ordeal was dealt with.. i relayed the story to ma.  she said..

AT LEAST THEY DONT... FLYYYYY!! 

*****

as far as bugs go..  i think the most fascinating is the preying mantis.  i have encounters with them every summer.  i think i have a repeat visitor.  little dude likes the frame of my patio door.  he will come and crawl halfway up and perch.. watching while i sit outside, drink beer, and visit with the nabes.

Answers 2 What happened to the husband?

You Were Gone

In a flash of cataclysmic light
You were gone
A singular event of catastrophic consequences
Took you from us

A bolt of lightning
seeking the ground
mistook you...
A natural accident

No, that's not right

With the screech of twisting metal
and the wrenching silence
of the answer
you were gone

a moment's indecision
an inch this way or that
and we are alone
a sad occurrence


No, that's not right


A heart attack
felled you
so young and in our prime
and you were gone


And, we, so needy of your grace
so longing for your body whole
are left
and you are gone


No, that's not right


A lingering cancer
rotting from the inside out
took you bit by bit
leaving us less and less


No, that's not right


A disease with no cure
and no cause
no control and no pause
took you from us


a withering look
striking us cold
no remorse, no forgiveness
and you were gone


No, that's not right
You are still here.

http://pl.st/p/23199426571 Okay...here's the playlist. But this is just the URL...Don't know how to import it!  Sorry!  Ignorance is not always bliss!

Welcome Jini...you get to make a playlist too!

Welcome JiNi...

JiNi...
Welcome to Forever Young Journaling.
Looking forward to reading your writings!
Reese...

observing/curiosity...

Today is lab day…blood drawn…..

As I walked through the clinic rotating door, I notice that someone had re-arranged the furniture since I was here two weeks ago. Whoa!!! Many more chairs, many more people today…at least a count of 11. Waiting! It’s a Monday. OMG…I will be here forever….well, maybe not forever but longer than usual.

I don’t like sitting right next to other people. I like my space… the chairs were more or less grouped into 3’s. I sat on one end and an unfamiliar face was seated on the other end. Middle was empty…

Not a tough call to make, I will be sitting … waiting… patiently!!!

I searched for my i-pod in my tiny handbag. New ears since my old ears are permanently stationed close to my laptop in case of chatting in voice. Purple i-pod and now purple ears to match. Woot Whew!!! Classy!!! Right ear works, left ear is silent…Darn…brand new….I finagled with them and now I hear out of both…

Listening: Puff The Magic Dragon hmm hmm hmm hmm…(humming) Sad song for me…but it is one of my faves!

Next…Brett Michaels…Every Rose Has Its Thorn…another fave…and I also love Brett’s fake blue eyes... This song reminded me of JC immediately cause on DMT, he almost always puts his artistic ability to work and sketches a beautiful rose.

FYI…(My Culligan man also has blue contacts and his eyes are soooo striking)…

Next song…I forgot…I could listen back, but I want to do this only by memory. I recall JC saying he takes notes all the time…I searched in my handbag for paper and pen/pencil anything….came up blank. I double searched…still blank. So my memory is being backspaced…

I am now just going to sit back, listen to my tunes and do what JC did at a concert he attended…observe people…Ha! Sitting across from me is a man about 60ish with a white beard, silver hair pulled tightly back into a tail. Looks like a tad of natural curl waving down his back. I figured he had to be over 40 when he picked up a newspaper and out came his cheater readers!

I rotate my head ¼ of the way…(not a full turn as done in the Exorcist). I recognize that couple sitting to my left…they go to my church. Don’t know them by name, just familiar faces.

The lady sitting next to the empty seat by me is talking with a friend who is standing next to her. They say they both love just coming to this clinic and watching people…just like at a mall. I look at them and smile…

The room is clearing nicely….my name is called. Blood drawn, everything ran smoothly. The door opens for me and I asked the receptionist…”where did everyone go”…she smiled and was relieved that she was able to take a break. The hall was totally empty.

The rain had quit, the wind is still blowing….hang on to your hats!

On my drive home, I observe road kill…2 deer. Not bad for that route. Usually there are coons, cats, woodchucks…but this time only 2 tagged deer.

I am leader of the pack…a red car is trailing me…getting closer and closer…I observe my speed, time to slow and use cruise. I am going 60 and the chick behind me is only about ½ car length behind.

I decided to stop at Piggly Wiggly on my way home to get hamburger and buns for supper. Granddaughter is coming after school and I know I am safe feeding her bar-b-que. I chuckle to myself when I think of Piggly Wiggly. BJ has trouble saying Piggly Wiggly so I will say to her “BJ, where does Addy work”…and she will respond with Piggally Wiggally…So darn cute!!!

While in Piggly Wiggly, I wanted a jar of pickled veggies. The space where they are located is empty in front…way up on the top shelf. I was unable to reach and wasn’t leaving the store til I had some to take home. I looked left, right, ahead, behind….no one…ahhhh finally a lady taller than 5 ft is pushing her young child in a cart. I ask desperately, “could you help me please”?  she smiles and replies “sure” and I told her what I needed. She easily reached up and carefully grabbed a jar and said “mmmm” and handed it to me. I thanked her graciously!!!

Now I was happy….

As I write this I darn neared polished off the full jar of pickled veggies. I guess that was my dinner…

the noisy box

A wild looking, barefooted boy is running along a dirt path. He left home in a hurry. He was angry and distracted.   Dodi cut his hair way too short with her dull knife and blood had trickled down over his left ear.
He didn’t care to have his hair messed with. He would fight her next time to leave it long.

He was on a mission. He had seen something curious yesterday, and he was determined to see it again. And maybe this time… touch it.

Around the bend, in a slight clearing stood the remains of a huge crumbling building. He had explored a few buildings like this, since Dodi started letting him roam free. Everything was in decay. The Old Ones called this building ‘Chush’. But when questioned, no one knew what it meant. Why was it so big? What had the Deads done here?

He climbed over the rubble and crept inside. The light of midday filtering through cracks in the lofted ceiling. He stood, hands on hips, on top of the collapsed balcony. Looking up, he could see an array of metal cylinders with gaping holes frowning down at him. Cautiously, he made his way down to the cracked marble floor and up to the front. His footfalls echoing in the large empty space. Holes in the floor on either side of him, where wooden pews once stood, now long gone.. scavenged for firewood ages ago.

There it was. A very large box with two levels of yellow and black flat sticks lined up in obvious patterns. Knobs. Knobs everywhere! And there was a ledge and down below huge sticks in what appeared to be the same patterns as the smaller sticks above. He felt bold today. He would touch it. What could possibly happen?

He climbed up on the bench, his scrawny legs dangling over the edge, calloused toes barely brushing the pedals. Why was he so excited? He reached out his grimy fingers and ran them over the surface of the keyboards, over the knobs, careful not to disturb anything. What was this thing?

He sat quietly contemplating this strange contraption, when he heard a rustle behind him. Startled, he slipped hastily down off the bench, landing on the pedals, causing the instrument to let out a loud, mournful bellow.  Hundreds of frightened birds flew out at him from their cozy perches.

He ran. His heart pounding as he raced home. What was that sound?  Was it hollering at me for hurting it? He didn’t tell Dodi why he was so pale and breathless when he rushed into the hut. He didn't sleep well that night. 

He would go back.

*****
He awoke with that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. Gnawing, searing, hunger. He knew better than to wake his sister. She got cross when hungry. She is cross all the time.

He wasn’t really concerned with Dodi’s hunger, or his own, for that matter. The noisy box was on his mind. He weaved his way down to the stream, cloth in hand, and scrubbed his grubby hands. He was intent on touching the box again. It just didn’t seem right to touch it with unclean hands.

He stood quietly solemn at the entrance hole to the Chush. Taking a tentative step forward, ignoring the decaying rubble at his feet, he noted that the box seemed to glow as early morning streams of sunlight danced on its console. He carefully found his way onto the bench, and softly stroked the rotting wood. He cooed soothingly, ‘I won’t hurt.’

He wiggled one chipped yellowish key, curiously… ready to be bellowed at again. Nothing.

He took a deep breath, and pressed the key down.  What quickly followed, was a hiss and a high-pitched squeal. He jumped only a bit this time, more like a flinch, and then... he sank all ten of his ruddy fingers down upon the keys. The instrument gave a clamorous wail in protest, but he held fast.  Filling the long silent room with reverberating sound.  He spent all day gently coaxing odd sounds from the box.   Completely entranced.

This time, the birds stayed to listen.
And he had forgotten his hunger.

*****

He floated home as the last rays of light disappeared behind the overgrown thicket surrounding the small gathering of huts. He had never heard such sounds before! What was this called? What was this… feeling?

‘Where have you been…. no fish?’ his irritable sister demanded. He hung his head, having forgotten to bring home fish from the stream, they would eat only bread tonight.

‘What is wrong with you, Remi?’

‘I found something’

‘Well, tomorrow, you find some fish or some kind of meat, or we will starve.’

..more coming.. 













　

jinijinijini

WOOHOO!! Welcome aboard Jini!  So thrilled to have you write with us! 
~JC