~The Particulars of the Privy

The family outhouse wasn't just thrown together willy-nilly. Oh, no. It was an object of pride. A showcase of engineering and ingenuity and a symbol of prosperity. There was a true science used in the construction of 'the throne'. 
It had to be built using only the best quality lumber. Generally, with 2" x 6" floor joist, cedar walls if possible but most likely just good white pine. Usually, the roof was just wood, but a fancy privy could have shingles and the la-ti-da privy might have had a tin roof. The roof slanted away from the side with the door towards the back to allow maximum rain roll-off. Also, you needed less height to sit on the crapper bench than you needed to drop your long-johns.
A standard structure was about 6 feet wide x 5 feet deep with the roof measuring approximately 8 feet tall at the highest point. Of course, those measurements would depend on whether it was your simple one-holer design or the more elaborate two-seater. A good coat of white paint would definitely set yours off from the neighbors and become the envy of the whole county. Don't make the door fit too tightly and remember to cut a crescent moon shape in it for proper ventilation and the only source of light.
A good supply of Montgomery Ward or Sears catalogs and a fly swatter were luxuries fit for the queen.
the important things 
will often go unnoticed—
until you need them

The Silence of Nature

Sometimes it shrieks, hoots or creaks,
whistles, cries, trills or squeaks,
rattles, russles gurgles or moans,
babbles, crackles, grunts or groans.

Sometimes it chatters, chirps or howls,
baas, ribbits, hisses, roars or growls,
cackles, coos, squawks or crows,
chitters, bleats, clucks or bellows.

Sometimes it, barks, buzzes or caws,
clicks, gobbles, gurbles or heehaws,
moos, humms, oinks, meows or neighs,
peeps, purrs, quacks, snuffles or brays

the silence of nature is a never-ending song,
forget your troubles and come sings along.

Reminiscing

None of us old folk ever talk about 
how we were forced to play outside
every weekend and every summer day
from sunup until streetlights glow.

All those sun burnt faces,
shoulders and ears,
wet clothes and frozen toes.
sweltering heat, torrential rain,
blizzards of drifting snow.

But oh,
how we do love to ramble on
about how much fun we had watching
mud puddles drying,
icicles melting,
and how excited we were to watch the grass grow
into yet another year.

Remember

Do you remember
playing out in the street
and a man came by
said he had something
sweet
and it’s yours
for free
if you come with me

Your friends ran away
leaving you there
with a smile on your face
and a ribbon in your hair
all they could do was stare
as you walked away
holding his hand
they never saw you again

Do you remember
that time down on Clary
when those two dudes
rolled up looking scary
with their nines at their side

when they stepped
out of that fine
looking ride
you said that’s
the life for me
the way it ought to be
not taking shit
from nobody
now your doing life
in the penitentiary
with a guy named Earl

Do you remember
that feeling
when you took
what he was dealing
and it left your senses
reeling

clear down to your
tingling toes
your fingers
twitching
your nose
itching
your mind numb

did you know
it was dumb
or was you too
high to care
as they
laid you on the slab
in the autopsy lab

the man said
what a pity
this girl was so pretty
but that was never
enough for you

***To You She is Mother***

bringer of life,

giver of love,

sculptor of minds,

painter of dreams,

the calmer,

the soother, the rock…

Holding you through the tears

of mistakes done,

when dreams won’t come,

when milestones are won.

Inspiring you to begin,

to reach the end,

and then start again,

flying higher,

going farther,

moving faster…

She cherishes you,

holds you,

knows you,

at times scolds you,

but you know she will always,

love you…

She is your

unyielding,

invulnerable protector…

Yes,

To you she is mother.

To me…

She is fierce,

soft,

gentle,

lover,

fighter.

inspiration,

imagination,

stimulation,

motivation,

admiration,

rolled into one package…

In that package, a brain,

brilliant,

calculating,

supportive,

unselfish,

forgiving…

In that package, a heart,

caring,

sharing,

loving,

generous

compassionate,

tender,

affectionate,

supportive,

romantic…

In that package, a soul,

the spirit of

an angel’s grace,

where evil,

has no place,

and even the saints would cry tears,

over her purity…

In that package, her hands,

a touch that can,

calm the rage,

that boils inside of me,

exposing my insanity,

steering me.

from the brink of,

catastrophe…

In that package, her arms,

that wrap around me,

bringing harmony,

peace,

contentment,

love,

reality…

To you she is mother…

to the world she is my wife…

to me she is,

my life…