"Letters to Miss Emily..."

by **backhoe** » 07/ 13/ 10 4:36 am

<blockquote>…or take a nap.</blockquote>
Turn out the lights,
Turn out the lights,
Turn out the lights,

by **backhoe** » 07/ 13/ 10 5:15 am

“The Dieter...”

Sweetie, today is Garbage Day-- when Cole chases away the Evil Curbmaster that grabs the garbage can and shakes it out into its bin ( It always made you laugh, and he-- so smart, according to you- was always surprised when the truck backed up... )

--so I did something I have put off, because I dreaded doing it...

I cleared out all your “Special Diet Stuff” ( Weight Watchers ) from the fridge...

“Fat free” this and “Fat free” that...

Cranberry juice for your bladder...

Elations for your aching joints...

Chicken broth for seasoning your lunches.

Understand something-- I never stopped loving you, but I sure wondered why you got so damn fat ( speaking bluntly, people ) and seemed to think I would not notice or care...

You kept telling me you weighed 180 pounds-- and I kept noticing you got bigger, and bigger...

I guess it was all that good, country cooking at Honey Creek-- fine if you are a stevedore or lumberjack, maybe not so good if you sit at a desk all day...

Well, I did notice, and I did never stop loving you-- but I really wondered what, just what, you were trying to tell me, without words...

You did so well on that diet-- 70 pounds, shed, and you were so proud... so was I, even tho I did not say it, enough...

...like all those other things, I did not say enough...

Love you

Need you

Thank you...

Life? Sure full of vain regrets...

But your “stuff” has to go... I don't eat like that-- I weigh less than when I was 12 years old... and it reminds me, too much, of you...

Got a Genny-rator to try to repair today,

See you later,

“Heart of my Heart”

http://lyricsplayground.com/alpha/songs ... eart.shtml

"Heart of my heart" meant friends were dearer then
Too bad we had to part
I know a tear would glisten
If once more I could listen
To the gang that sang "Heart of my heart"

by **backhoe** » 07/ 13/ 10 6:09 am

"These foolish things
remind me,
of you...:

http://www.hotlyrics.net/lyrics/E/Ella_ ... ou%29.html

Oh will you never let me be?
Oh will you never set me free?
The ties that bound us are still around us
There´s no escape that I can see
And still those little things remain
That bring me happiness or pain

A cigarette that bares a lipstick's traces
An airline ticket to romantic places
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you.
A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumblin'words That told you what my heart meant
A fairground's painted swings
These foolish things
remind me of you.
You came,
You saw,
You conquered me
When you did that to me
I knew somehow this had to be
The winds of March That made my heart a dancer
A telephone that rings But who's to answer
Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you
First daffodils
And long excited cables

And candle lights

on little corner tables
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
The park at evening
When the bell has sounded

The Isle de France

With all the gulls around it
The beauty that is spring
These foolish things
Remind me of you
How strange,
How sweet,
To find you still,
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you near to me
The sigh of midnight trains
At empty stations
Silk stockings thrown aside
Dance invitations
Oh how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you
Gardenia perfume
Lingering on a pillow
Wild strawberries
Only seven francs a kilo
And still my heart has wings,
These foolish things,
Remind me of you
The smile of Garbo
And the scent of roses
The waiters whistling
As the last bar closes
The song that Crosby sings
These foolish things
Remind me of you
How strange
How sweet
To find you still
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you near to me
The scent of smoldering leaves
The wail of steamers
Two lovers on the street
Who walk like dreamers
Oh how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you.<HR>I keep erasing tracks of you, dearest heart...More email to your account, from places you shopped at, that I never will...Marked as "spam," so I won't see activity there, and think someone is tryin to reach......the ghost, of you...

by **backhoe** » 07/ 13/ 10 7:58 am

Miss Emily?

Minor vignettes, from

Some other's Life, Interrupted?

Took the De Colores front plate off your little red buzz bomb, since its mine now, and I'm not Charismatic like you were...

Scraped the Episcopal Church sticker off your hatchback window...

That chintzy card from That Pompous Asshole really was...

"The Least They could do," for twenty years service and 600 bucks a month.

Cole chased Teh Evil Curbmaster away while I was doing that...

The gas tank for the Coleman generator may come in today, so we'll see how Willy Newman's former Chief Mechanic does with small engine repair.

I don't want to give the Thompson's something they can't use, but you, better than anyone else, know what a shadow of myself I have become-- I will do my best-- let's hope it will be "good enough..."

Funny, I just remembered a couplet I wrote, when I was a moody ( aren't they all? ) teenager:

A shadow and a shell am I
a burning child of Hell am I
left forlorn and puzzled
on a silent sandy plain

by **backhoe** » 07/ 13/ 10 1:41 pm

backhoe wrote:...and I just came in from the porch-- I've been going thru your luggage and EFM ( education for ministry ) stuff...

I only broke down a few times, going thru your stuff- I reckon you would have been proud. But God & Emily? It sure hurts...

It helps being outside-- this house was 90% yours, Miss Emily.

That dang house in Riverside was 90% Helen's too-- I loved the view of the alternate Intercoastal waterway-- before they replaced the drawbridge with a lower, fixed span, cruise ships passed by, along with all sorts of traffic.

The entire river side was glass, and it was beautiful-- also hard to heat and cool...

Here, the house is mostly "Emily's"-- only the shop & darkroom ate totally John.

The mail was the usual, and the "kids" are dozing on the sofa and bed.

The formerly Hogarth's hasn't called, and I was waiting for that before heading out. While I fully plan to implement The New Austerity, I got the wrong size pj's, we need more CFL's, and a web search claims Wally has ice tappers ( crackers ). Since we aren't getting crushed ice fron the Ice House, now, I've been cracking cubes with an old knife handle, and it is a poor thing at best.

I could make one, if I could find that wide, spring steel banding I *thought* I had saved. No luck, so far. But the only chunk of brass I have big enough to turn a hemispherical cracker head is a huge old acetylene regulator body, and it would be a lot of work to cut out a piece the right size.

You remember we had discussed, before you took The Midnite Express outta here, that about the only person left alive and reachable, who could tell a potential employer what I used to do and was good at, was that old partner I had when The Front Porch ("...at the the Front Porch, of course." ) was in business on the Island.

I talked to her, and after we caught up on the last 25 years, she said she'd be happy to write a letter of recommendation for me. Like a lot of things, can't hurt, might help.

And Formerly Hogarth's still hasn't called.

Meanwhile, I left Cole in the yard- he's playing what you called "Pirate Dog"-- rolling on his back and growling.

sure miss you kiddo
johnny

by **backhoe** » 07/ 13/ 10 5:15 pm

The Sun is slipping over the trees now- a few minutes ago, I was changing more bulbs to 10 Watt CFL's and when I came out of the shop, I caught a blur of color, moving and thought

Emily!

It was just the new clothespin bag and a trick of the light and my moving quickly seemed to give it movement... sigh.

I'd really you rather not come back like that-- you know we both thought The Woman in Green we'd catch out of the corner of our eyes at Riverside-- the one the dogs wagged their tails at- was Helen, perhaps trying to protect us from that Satanist's earlier workings. And she never came back, after the Priest blessed the house...

But it was just a clothespin bag...

♪♪ Just my imagination,
runnin' away with me,
it was just my imagination...♪♪

by **backhoe** » 07/ 13/ 10 11:20 pm

Ratz.ca wrote:Backhoe

I trust that as time goes by, God willing, the pain decreases. It will not totally fade away, as to keep us in check when remembering friends, family, and loved ones that we have lost. I am thankful, too, that our gracious host and hostess have allowed you to grieve in this manner. My prayers for them, as always, and to you kind sir, serving up the best only.

Ratz.ca, time, when enough of it passes-- assuming I live that long-- will ease it, but it will never go away-- like a bad tooth, or a broken bone, it will always come back around, and drive to my knees...

When our old Taffy-girl had to be put to sleep-

http://tinyurl.com/36q8ym

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/chat/1777582/posts

...a number I liked by The Alan Parsons Project gave me great comfort, and much, much pain:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nvwrSdMY7dQ

Time, flowing like a river
Time, beckoning me
Who knows when we shall meet again
If ever
But time
Keeps flowing like a river
To the sea

Goodbye my love, Maybe for ( gone ) forever
Goodbye my love, The tide waits for me
Who knows when we shall meet again
If ever
But time
Keeps flowing like a river (on and on)
To the sea, to the sea

Till it's gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forevermore

Goodbye my friends, Maybe forever
Goodbye my friends, The stars wait for me
Who knows where we shall meet again
If ever
But time
Keeps flowing like a river (on and on)
To the sea, to the sea

Till it's gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forevermore
To the sea, to the sea
<HR>Time, the great healer, may heal it-- if, great "if"- I have enough Time left to me......until then? I'm OK......except when I'm not..
<HR>
Just an old Keyboard Cowboy...gating back out, into <a href="http://www.webopedia.com/TERM/c/cyberspace.html">Cyberspace</a> and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreamtime">Dreamtime</a>
 
<img src="http://b.tinyurl.com/yatmxq"><center>-30-</center>

by **backhoe** » 07/ 14/ 10 3:34 am

"Letters to Miss Emily..."

Yeah, it's me again, Genius...

Something is making "A" drive- the floppy-- click.

Damn if I can find what is doing it... scanned for viruses, cleaned the registry, looked in Task Manager for unwanted processes... and the bleeding thing is still clicking...

You were always so good at sorting out software problems- you, with that "sideways" way of looking at puzzles.

Me, I'm a hardware guy...

We made a good team.

Your old Goat had to go out at 12:30-- I know she can't hold her water well, but this is getting ridiculous... I tried to take her out at bedtime, but she wouldn't move.

Robert always said she was like your Mom was- had a talent for making a bad situation worse. Hot? Move to the hottest part of the house, and them complain about the heat... kind of like how Zoey pants in the heat-- then lies down and sticks her muzzle where she's rebreathing the hot air she exhales.

I'm doing as much as I can, kiddo

"I'm dancing as fast as I can..."

by **backhoe** » 07/ 14/ 10 7:35 am

I've got to make amends with that Gypsy Woman of Computers I seems to have offended... the "new box" froze on reboot, and nothing I could do revived it, so it's off to Barry's after he opens to leave it there.

Took the Dell from upstairs and got it "close enough" to use down here for a while.

Machines, and women, are the curse of us men...

by **backhoe** » 07/ 14/ 10 8:22 am

Waiting, waiting...

Like I used to tell you,

"Man killing time,
and vice versa..."

Cole lies on the rug by my feet-- as you frequently exclaimed

"He's so beautiful!"

Yes, he is-- for a rat-tailed little devil snagged by animal control, he's turned out to be a handsome, fine young dog... it's just a pity, about you.

You and he were closer than I have ever seen Missy and dog-child.

But he's not really "mine"-- I think he is still waiting, loyally, for you to come home.

Taffy was "yours" when you worked part-time and spent a lot of hours with her, but when hard times fell upon us, and you got that better-paying job at Honey Creek ( and no, I never thanked you enough for keeping us/me from becoming destitute-- but I did thank you, albeit not soon enough or often enough... ), she became mine.

Loosing her was as close as I want to come to, to loosing a child.
I know it was for you, too.

I hear Zoey panting her way in here-- I've got fans on her, and it helps, and I'm whacking away at that Llama-like coat-- she's better, but still hot.

I'm doing as much and and as well as I can, but I really do not know what we will do, without you, Em. Damn it all. I really was not prepared or equipped for this.

Still waiting for Hogarth... for Barry to open at 11:00... for something to change for the better.

by **backhoe** » 07/ 14/ 10 2:34 pm

Well, Cutie, I finally called Hogarth's/Brooks, and no gas tank yet. The mail had more things to return with "deceased" on the labels. I hated that, the first time around, too.

Finally decided to make trip to Barry's ( "If you can't get it back the way it was yesterday without spending a pile of money, just reformat it and re-install some version of XP-- I have a functioning PC to use, so there's no rush... ) re-mail the "deceased" stuff, and stop at Winn-Dixie since it's a much shorter drive than WallyWorld is.

It's raining again, so the roofs need eyeballing.

That old partner of mine emailed the letter of recommendation she wrote, and it's lovely-- I'd hire myself, based on that.

But jeez, I feel old and tired out. Should have been driving a truck and earning us some money years back, before my eyes got dicey and I lost all that weight and musculature. Lost opportunities, kid.

We had a lot of them, didn't we?

It's so sad here without you-- we had our problems and difficulties like anyone, but we always had each other. You were my best friend and fiercest advocate.

I'm sure the dogs & bird would put in a good word for me-- if they could speak...

love you
johnny

by **backhoe** » 07/ 15/ 10 3:20 am

Crosslinked- use the link for the full context:

http://www.freedominion.com.pa/phpBB2/v ... 50#1513250

( I think this has a place in "Letters to Miss Emily," so I will cross-link it... )

Honey...

( excuse the familiarity, but I'm an old, Southron man-- that's how we talk, down here, and if you and all your menfolk were standing before me, face to face, that is how I would address you-- and I'd call your men "Suh!"
We're familiar, but real polite down here... because we never know when a stranger might be an Angel, in disguise... it's a very old legend, and a tradition here...)

( And a further footnote from Yers Trooly? Her Dogpack got me up at midnite, because Zoey, the Old Goat, wouldn't go out to pee at bedtime due to a thunderstorm--

Me: "Zoe! Come on! You gotta go!
Her: "Boss? You crazy? I'm not goin' out it that? An' you ain't makin' me..."

So naturally, we still have to get up at the "usual time" of about 3 AM to roam the yard, as well... bark at Invisible Boogermen, and finally get everybody back inside... I swear, it's like having a couple of three year old kids... )

...to address your last comment, first?

Yes, she was a very good writer- kind of like everything she put her mind to, when she got going with any subject, she was very good, indeed.

Just one, of many reasons, why I miss her so... she had so much to offer, and to give the world- not just me. I never could figure out the lever, or nudge, that would make her quit screwing around and get serious to devoting herself to all the things she was good at.

The world's loss... and mine.

“Her song was full
and tho it's still
I loved her well
I always will...”

( Written for that first wife, but Oh! So! Fitting for Miss Emily as well... damn it all to Hades... )

Yeah, I'm moving on, and at some point, these entries to both posts will taper off, and die down... but probably never completely cease-- I told her, long ago, in reference to something my poor old head has forgotten,

“Your Dead are always with you...”

And they are- you carry them in your Heart of Hearts, where your secret soul- the very essence of You, that only Giver of Life and a few, rare people know about-- resides.

Like a faraway Star, they live on as a pinpoint of light. You can see them, still, but no matter how much you crank up the magnification, they remain just a point of light.
Oh! So! Far away... visible, but forever distant.

( And in what I used to tell Miss Emily is “A minor Note from Housekeeping”-- the Old Goat is stirring around again-- damnation, she got me up at 12 and 3, and now she's restless? What the devil? OK, she has moved in front of the fan I set up for her... has she finally learned that the sofa is hot, and the fan is cooler? Time will tell... )

Related to the above footnote? I've mentioned, elsewhere, Miss Emily's strange affinity and bond with animals-- how she could run her hands over a sick critter and say “the problem is here...”
Not long before she died, she said to me, “Zoey says this is the first place she's been happy...”
Remember, She also told me that when Trey, her last Good Boss's Golden Retriever lay dying, he let out a great shout ( to her )
“Home! I'm goin' Home!”
Not, she said, the “home with Daddy Jim,” but to The Really Good Home...

Honey, it's hurt me so bad to craft those words above, that the tears keep screwing up my vision-- and some are happy tears, mixed with sad.

I don't think I can write much more, but I will say this-- I've lived much, and seen much, and this I know-

You can call it whatever you want, but somewhere, out in the Universe, there is Something, that hates, and fears

Light

Love

and Life

Phillip K. Dick called it “The Form Destroyer,” and that's a good a description as any.

Best to avoid it...

My kindest regards, to you and yours...

by **backhoe** » 07/ 15/ 10 3:43 am

And in other, of what I used to tell Miss Emily is “A minor Note from Housekeeping?"

I note with annoyance that the new electric razor I bought a few days ago is a lousy shaver...

Faced with replacing the floating shaving head on my Norelco ( "replace the head once a year for best results"-- this one lasted, maybe, six months... ) for $31.85, or buying a new "foil" razor for $24.95, I naturally chose the new razor...

First clue all was not well was that is vibrated and buzzed like a circular saw... and the next was, that by lunch time?
Needed another shave...

Hmmm, the damn thing might have a future as a sex toy, but it is a crummy shaver.

I guess I'll splurge and get another HQ8 head for the Norelco.

Life! It's just One Damn Thing after another...

by **backhoe** » 07/ 15/ 10 4:39 am

In further notes from housekeeping?

Whilst stirring about with assorted dogs ( Zoey back to the sofa, where it's hottest, Cole out in the yard, where Invisible ( but barkable ) Boogers lurk, I decide that since the upstairs computer has become the Main PC in the Kitchen ( see earlier notes for Adventures with Technology... ) I might as well reconnect the old Dell Optiplex 160 that sits, forgotten, on the Philippine mahogany coffee table upstairs-- the one, of two, that my Dad made about 60 years ago. Remnants-- few that I have-- of that Razed Home of mine on the Island.

The Dell was last seen here, two years ago, in The Great Recover the Upstairs Project, that will now be forever on hold:

<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v117/rollinson/DellinbackBR.jpg" height="232" width="313">

I'm almost embarrassed to post this picture-- but what is, is- and like I've told you, she wasn't perfect-- my formerly rail-thin wife got fat, and this is her at her fattest. With what was then the newly installed upstairs Dell. So she could surf the web, email, and so forth-- she never used it more than a couple of times and it got set aside when the Precision Workstation ( now in the kitchen again ) replaced it.

Above her is one of her hand-embroidered Unicorn pictures- yes, she had a whole collection of Unicorn stuff, including a glass cabinet full of it ( What do I do with this stuff? )-- and behind her is the now-patched hole- one of several-- in the overhead. Leaks. Damn old house! Just what an old guy needs...

Everything I did in, and to, this old house- I did for her...

What do I do now? Miss Emily?

by **backhoe** » 07/ 15/ 10 5:07 am

...and there are a million stories- and mysteries-- that will never be told or revealed in this tale of you, Miss Emily.

One was why on that horrible nite I found you, your glasses were in the kitchen, along with a note to buy more "TP..."

God love you, you were nearly blind, even with your glasses-- we talked about Lasix surgery, but with no job(s) or insurance, it was just talk...

Another mystery?

While tossing the foil razor in the cabinet ( so full of your "stuff") and hooking back up the Norelco, I saw something-- tucked away on the counter's ledge, one of you Paxils...

Were you trying to take it, that awful night? To feel better? Or was it there from some other time?

I always worried about your taking that stuff-- so many psychos seem to use it-- but a few years ago, you were sleeping 23 hours a day, and not going to work or doing anything...

So I dragged you to Marsha, she ran every test she could think of, and when no physical cause could be found, she concluded ( correctly, IMO ) that it was sire-O-logical, to quote Amos N' Andy.

And it worked- you went back to normal.

But I always worried about it.

Well, no worries now, Mate- except for mine own...

"...and I straighten
Miss Emily's Picture
on the wall..."

"Letters to Miss Emily..."

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