left foot, left foot, left foot, right

This is for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: challenge.

What odd challenge is this? I took this stealthie downtown two days ago. I am wearing my almost not socks. Or minimal socks. Anyhow, they are elastic lace bands around the instep. These particular sandals are very comfortable but I tend to fall off them when I am tired. Somehow the almost not socks help.

But… challenge? The picture reminds me of The Foot Book. It starts: Left foot, left foot, left foot right. Feet in the morning feet at night. And it goes on, a kids book. I have a loved picture of my sister reading it to my son when he was a year old. They are on the porch in Portland. My sister’s feet are turned in and my son’s feet are turned out.

The challenge is do you have a children’s book or poem or story or speech from school memorized from 20 years ago or more. I am not counting television or movie songs here: this is something read or memorized on purpose from multiple uses….My children are both over 20 and I still have a huge number of children’s books memorized.

Have a wonderful day.

nebulous

For the Daily Prompt: mnemonic.

I know lots of mnemonics. The first that I learned is “Every Good Boy Does Fine”, for the lines of the staff of the G clef, for playing my flute. Medicine is full of mnemonics. An out of date one: Shock, shock, shock, everybody shock, big shock, little shock, shock, shock, shock. This used to be the order of shocks and the medicines for cardiac arrest. It has changed…

…but I would rather look at the photograph than think about mnemonics. It is not a nebula, but that is a star. I took this with my cell phone when it was almost too dark, so the nebula like shapes are the tops of trees, a block from my house.

flooded

I wrote this after the tsunami in Japan. I was thinking about PTSD and triggers and being overwhelmed. And the flooding now in Texas….

Flooded

I cry because
the laundry overflowed
the sewer blocked again
we might have to pull up the floor
and lay it down a third time
I hate the laundromat
water runs across the floor
as fast as the tsunami
crossing the fields
crushing the houses
catching the trucks
in Japan

I cry because
I have to ask for help again
Help comes
but the memories of asking
when it didn’t
help didn’t come
and I was abandoned or humiliated
rise up and overwhelm me
I am flooded
I am helpless
someone help those people
The shaking earth is bad enough
But the ocean rolling inland
Over all
Breaking all
Beams to toothpicks
Those are the memories that rise up
And flood me
I think of the soldiers
and victims of wars and disasters
and PTSD
tsunami
of memory

 

previously published on everything2.com

For the Daily Prompt: memorize. In PTSD, the memories are not what people want to memorize.

music  Randy Newman Louisiana 1927

 

cabin door

Another door, this taken by my daughter,  of me and a door. We stayed in a cousin’s cabin because our most functional and least ghost occupied cabin was set for a new roof. My cousin kindly let me use their cabin.

My parents helped my aunt and uncle build this cabin. My father talked about it. I have been going to the lake since I was a baby. Now I go about every other year: too far for yearly.

shellfishie

This is a beach but not the ocean. We were on Chesapeake Bay, the Western shore, three days ago.

For Memorial Day, this takes me back to my paternal grandparents’ house, on Topsail Island in North Carolina. The two small black items are fossilized shark’s teeth. As the water erodes the shore, the fossils wash up. My grandparents walked the beach every day and as kids we learned to hunt and spot the shark’s teeth. The white tooth has been replaced by black stone. They are shiny and that curved pointed shape stands out with practice.

My skills returned on the Bay beach. We found other fossils: a fossil dolphin tooth, fossil coral, fossilized bone and wood. The sand and sky and foliage and shells are so different from my Pacific Northwest beaches.