The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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What gets me out of bed.

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There are many things that can get me up, out of bed and moving. Now, I am not talking about rising early to go deer hunting or work on a book I'm writing. And I am not talking about the smell of bacon in the skillet. I am talking about those life happenings that can wake you from a dead sleep and set you on your merry, foggy-eyed way.

For instance, if Nicole told me that she heard glass shatter and someone talking in the basement at 3 AM I probably get up. Of course I'd listen for a moment trying to explain the noise away and then if I couldn't, I'd grab my gun, the phone, and see what has happening.

Last night Nicole very gently woke me up at around 11:30 and asked me ever so sweetly if I would help her clean up the vomit on the sheets on the futon. #3 had thrown up in the night and didn't even know it. As we were cleaning up, he was sleeping soundly.

However, even this incident doesn't get me out of bed like the sound of #3 telling his mom or me that "he's cold". This "I'm cold" statement almost always proceeds vomiting. So even if I am in the deepest of sleep I will awake at these words and be half way across the room before he finishes the final syllable.

Okay, yes, you guessed it, the plague has come to the Hahn house. It started with #1 on Friday and he is still lying around the house aching. Then it went to #2 who didn't feel good on Sunday when I took him to work with me. Then the episode last night with #3. #4 was whining around all evening so I'm just waiting for the other .....well...stuff to drop.

Of course I always have to have a little fun with it all since rarely does this stuff affect me (prevention is the best medicine, that and Maker's Mark!). So, today I was coming up with names for the ummm, well......vomit vessels, barf buckets, puke pails, spew space....add your own if you like in the comment section;-)

Sorry but you don't know what it's like here!!!!!!! Okay, some of you do.

By the way, prayers for Catherine would be appreciated. She is going for hearing tests tomorrow and possibly tubes in her ears.

Comments

Emily said…
Of course, prayers for Catherine. :)
You could always get super-technical and call them "emesis basins," which is what they're called in a hospital setting. We actually have some of those at our house.
10:09 AM
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