The Middle

I came across this poem four or five years ago.  It was cited in a letter to the editor of Modern Maturity Magazine.  The writer couldn't remember the poet who wrote the poem.

               When I remember bygone days
               I think how evening follows morn:
               So many I loved were not yet dead,
               So many I love were not yet born.

I thought of my dad who had  been dead for many years and I thought of my grandchildren who had not been born.  I copied the poem into my journal of bits and pieces that I want to carry with me when I am old and feeble and carted off to a nursing home.

Last year I was browsing at our local used book store and found a set of books by Ogden Nash.  Since I came across his first poem when I was in grade school I have enjoyed his humor.  I bought four of the books.  And on page 160 of Versus I found this same poem, this time with a title, The Middle.  One of the reasons I enjoy Ogden Nash's poems is that they have a bit of truth to them, even the funny ones which were the only ones I had ever read  before coming across this one.

Mourning Cloak Butterfly

5x7 Watercolor

I painted this butterfly from one of Tom's photos. The butterfly wings in the photo surprised me. I always think of Mourning Cloaks as being very dark, almost black. However, several fieldguides agreed that they are purple. The sun shining on the wings gave an unusual glow to the butterfly. My goal was to paint that glow.

I am always pleased to see the first Mourning Cloak each year. They are one of the first butterflies of spring. Sometimes they can be seen as early as March in Ohio. This is because they overwinter as an adult, finding shelter in a crevice of a fallen log or under the shaggy bark of a tree.

Partly Read Books and Elusive Glasses

At the last Mystery Lovers' Book Club meeting, we were asked to give our names and then tell the group a personal quirk that we didn't mind sharing. As usual, when I am asked a direct question, especially about something I don't normally think about, I drew a complete blank. I promised I would come with something after everyone else had come up with their quirk.

Several of the women admitted to having a quirk about which way to hang a roll of toilet paper. I bet everyone after the first person who mentioned this quirk was happy to have an "I agree or disagree about the toilet paper" quirk. I, like most everyone, have a personal preference about this unimportant detail of life. I'm an "over" as were most of the others. One woman noted that "over" is not good if there is a puppy in the house. Another added, "or a toddler".

When Sue came back to me, I was ready. I always have books lying around that I have started and mean to get back to later. I do get back to them eventually. I would read them more quickly if I wouldn't suddenly decide that what I really want to read is something light. That's when I pick up whatever mystery novel I happen to see. Since my husband likes mystery novels there is always temptation close at hand.

As I was driving home I thought of my most obvious quirk. I am forever putting my glasses down somewhere because I can see better if I take them off when I read, work on the computer or work on artwork. Then I have to wander around the house trying to remember what I was doing when I took them off. Tom tells me that keeping track of my glasses is one of his most useful jobs.

Random Thoughts

I bought two of these cups on an impulse. If there had been more I would have bought them. The older I get the more I realize the moment I am in is the moment to appreciate.