Coffee Puzzle

November 4, 2019.  Recently, walking into my kitchen, my memory took a leap back to the kitchen I grew up in – the center of family activities.  The table was cleared for each meal and then immediately cleared for the next activity – homework, paying bills, making a new slipcover for the old rocker.  In early hours (before anyone else was supposed to be awake), Mother sat at the table drinking coffee and reading magazines.  The memory that won’t let go was a rare day when Mother sat down for coffee mid-day.  I was elementary-school age.

(I’m still puzzling why this memory pops up now.  I lean toward synchronicity, not coincidence.)

The table (now in my sister’s home) was available to photo for this collage with a map of the Monahans area in West Texas as backdrop.  (No recall of Mother’s coffee cups, though I do remember a metal coffeepot heated on stove top – just-poured coffee was surely boiling hot.)

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Ode To Apple Tree

November 11, 2015.  I don’t often return to West Texas where I grew up, but fragments of those years frequently come and find me, remind me there were perks in the midst of all the apparent desolation of dusty mesquite oilfields.  Our Monahans backyard was one of a kind out there, a mini orchard of fruit trees — all long gone now, except in memory.  One showed up in a recent dream, and an ode seems a fitting response.

This image is not the apple tree of the ode — but one of similar size and appeal from Wisconsin’s apple country, in 2004.

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