My date with Jillian Michaels - trainer for the Biggest Loser - was last night. I needed today to recover from the 20 minutes. Wow! The workout kicked my bootay! I thought that I would be able to breeze through the Level 1 workout because I am active and it looked easy. Well -in her words - "You can't expect to workout for 20 minutes and have a rest period if you want results. Give me all you've got for 20 minutes." I gave her all I had, and I still wasn't able to do everything. I am sore in places I didn't know you could be sore - my armpits of all places. I took a break today - 9 days in a row of exercise. And I'm still saying - It was good!!
Last year, I began a poem about my childhood and where I'm from. This year, I began the same piece, but created something entirely different. I focused more on the time I spent with Maw Maw Kelly. Here it is:
From a glistening white house
High on the hill
With the sun reflecting from the roof
Stars on the shutters twinkle a greeting
As cars meander up the driveway and park under the large oak tree.
This is where I’m from.
Maw Maw Addie and Paw Paw Kelly
A generation now lost, but memories that live on.
Concrete steps where cousins played colored chicks
“I’m always the wolf” and “I was going to choose that color”
Dennis chasing all the girls with his chant of “Every Color.”
This is where I’m from
Sweet Yeast rolls fresh from the oven
Smushed together in a cast-iron skilled missing a handle
Muscadine jelly and a slather of butter sliding off the treat
A sip of Coca-Cola in a recycled jelly glass before going green was cool
Spicy crawfish sprinkled across newspaper with corn and potatoes that burn your lips
Curly-Qs being monitored by the men as they swapped tales of fishing at the camp
This is where I’m from.
On the screened porch,
Amidst the rockers adorned with quilted seat cushions
Maw Maw’s rock kept the tempo for stories from the past
Aunt-Aunt Elaine and Aunt Etelka
The slamming screen door as Billy blazed through
4:00 every Sunday – everyone.
This is where I’m from.
Down the hill Paw Paw B and Maw Maw Ruth
Summers of tomatoes and salt shakers in pockets with 5 gallon buckets brimming over with Celebrities
Purple hulled pole beans and excessive amounts of corn
Creamed, Steamed, and Buttered.
This is where I’m from.
Huey P. Long’s furniture – not used since Paw Paw died
Quilts piled in chiffarobes
The Christmas tree behind the bed – decorated – all year long.
This is where I’m from.
Quilt racks in the living room,
Family pictures,
Days of Our Lives on the TV.
Church newsletters on the table for reading.
This is where I’m from.
Amazing Grace
How Sweet the Sound
The Old Rugged Cross
Not able to be verbalized, but sung in the heart
Together at the end
This is where I’m from.
Last year, I began a poem about my childhood and where I'm from. This year, I began the same piece, but created something entirely different. I focused more on the time I spent with Maw Maw Kelly. Here it is:
From a glistening white house
High on the hill
With the sun reflecting from the roof
Stars on the shutters twinkle a greeting
As cars meander up the driveway and park under the large oak tree.
This is where I’m from.
Maw Maw Addie and Paw Paw Kelly
A generation now lost, but memories that live on.
Concrete steps where cousins played colored chicks
“I’m always the wolf” and “I was going to choose that color”
Dennis chasing all the girls with his chant of “Every Color.”
This is where I’m from
Sweet Yeast rolls fresh from the oven
Smushed together in a cast-iron skilled missing a handle
Muscadine jelly and a slather of butter sliding off the treat
A sip of Coca-Cola in a recycled jelly glass before going green was cool
Spicy crawfish sprinkled across newspaper with corn and potatoes that burn your lips
Curly-Qs being monitored by the men as they swapped tales of fishing at the camp
This is where I’m from.
On the screened porch,
Amidst the rockers adorned with quilted seat cushions
Maw Maw’s rock kept the tempo for stories from the past
Aunt-Aunt Elaine and Aunt Etelka
The slamming screen door as Billy blazed through
4:00 every Sunday – everyone.
This is where I’m from.
Down the hill Paw Paw B and Maw Maw Ruth
Summers of tomatoes and salt shakers in pockets with 5 gallon buckets brimming over with Celebrities
Purple hulled pole beans and excessive amounts of corn
Creamed, Steamed, and Buttered.
This is where I’m from.
Huey P. Long’s furniture – not used since Paw Paw died
Quilts piled in chiffarobes
The Christmas tree behind the bed – decorated – all year long.
This is where I’m from.
Quilt racks in the living room,
Family pictures,
Days of Our Lives on the TV.
Church newsletters on the table for reading.
This is where I’m from.
Amazing Grace
How Sweet the Sound
The Old Rugged Cross
Not able to be verbalized, but sung in the heart
Together at the end
This is where I’m from.
Comments
Oh! How you brought back memories to me. MawMaw Kelly wasn't my blood grandmother, but I feel she was mine too. You brought back so much to me and even now I wipe the tears from my eyes. I feel like you gave me a sweeet gift of family today. She was the solid foundation that kept the family together. She was the mother hen that gathered her chicks under her wing and protected them from the storm. She was so much more than she could have ever known. When she passed an enormous piece of family went with her because it seems everyone one went their separate ways. Can we ever get that back? Please keep on writing and make sure you put these thoughts down somewhere safe to be kept for future generations. How I would love to sit and read such writings by my own ancestors.
Love To You,
Mom