Hard Time Marrying, Addendum

Graveside0001

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These two photographs look over my shoulder as I settle in to write every day.  The first came down to me in a group of old unmarked family photos.  I bought the second  at an auction because It looked like it needed a home.  These two haunted me till I wrote Hard Time Marrying.  I hope my story pleases them.

 

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Bedazzled by Teresa Karlinski | The Sunday’s of Advent | Advent Calendar 2016

Reblogged Tess’s story from Solveig Werner.

Solveig Werner


3rd Sunday of Advent | Day 11 | Advent Calendar

Bedazzled by Teresa Karlinski

Dolores studied the bedraggled excuse for a tree. Branches drooped instead of bouncing proud and wide. What once passed for needles, the sparse boughs presented bristles and wire. The bottom limbs collapsed tired and spent, sweeping the floor like broken wings. She had not bothered decorating for years, yet Dolores dragged the box out of the garage a week before Christmas as if driven. Husband long dead and children and grandchildren scattered over the map, she had no one with whom to celebrate. A hand to her cheek, she paused, lost in forgotten memories. What had come over her? Why had she hung on to this sorry fake? What did it matter? No one would see it but her. You’re a disaster. If it wasn’t so much trouble taking you down again, I’d trash you now.

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The Night Bobby Found Christ in an Abandoned Subway Car

Re logged from Robert Goldstein.

Art by Rob Goldstein

I dedicate this post to ‘WTF am I on about now?

Her post about photography in in virtual worlds was
the prompt I needed to finish this abandoned video.

I made this video from high-resolution panels that I staged
and shot in virtual reality and processed in multiple apps.
I cropped a cover ofSilent Night that I found at the
Internet Archives.

It is sung as a Gregorian chant.

To the best of my knowledge the recording is in the
public domain.

The thing I like best about the Nativity storyis that God
decides to incarnate among the poor and oppressed.

If you take the story literally the omnipotent God of Israel
becomes a lowly Jewish bastard whose life is in jeopardy
from the moment of conception.

I wondered how God would incarnate in today’s world
and came up with the idea of a homeless…

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Hard Time Marrying Finale

img_1641The stocky little woman leaned on her cane as she picked her way gingerly toward the graves under the mesquites. She lay a few wildflowers on three rock-covered graves, one unmarked, one marked for Joe, and a third for their boy, Johnny.  “I’ll be here sleeping beside you soon’s I can, Joe.  I’m tired and the folks can get by easy without me now.”  She thought back on the last eight years since Joe collapsed one morning at his milking.  They’d had more than forty years and six children together.  It wasn’t enough.

Little Joe had married and stayed on to farm with Joe.  The cabin had become a seven room house over the years, filled first with their children, then Little Joe’s.  Sally had married a a farmer and lived on the next section. She was so sweet, Anya couldn’t help being partial to her.   Rose Anya had taught school till she married a storekeeper in Talco.  Her boy Jules was a preacher.  Rose Anya had wanted her mother to come live with her in town after her pa died, but Anya couldn’t bear to leave the farm.  Betsy come along just a year after Sally and married Emma’s grandson, making them truly family.  The twins didn’t come along for five years.  One of them farmed the hundred sixty acres Joe bought a few years after they married and the other was a lawyer in Dallas.  He didn’t get home but a couple of times a year.  Johnny, the one they lost came when she thought she was past child-bearing had struggled to breathe for three long days.  Losing him nearly killed Joe.

Anya’s mind was fuzzy and she lived more in the past than present.  It pained her knowing all she was good for was rocking babies, stringing beans, and peeling potatoes, though Joe’s wife, Mary, tried to fool her into thinking she was useful.  Whenever she could, she slipped out to talk to Joe.

As she stood talking to Joe, Mary caught up with her.  “Mama, you had me worried to death.  I didn’t know where you’d got off to.  You had me worried to death.  It’s blazing hot out here. Come out of the sun and let me git you a drink.”

“Joe’s gonna be in for supper at four.  I better git in and make him some biscuits.  He always did love my biscuits.” Anya told Mary.

“You don’t have to get started just yet.  Let’s get you a cool drink.” Mary said, leading Anya to a rocker in the shade of the porch.  “Just sit here and cool off and I’ll be right back with your drink.”

” I git so tired of her fussing.” Anya said to Mary’s big backside, watching her head for the kitchen.  In no time at all she was nodding.

“Anya girl, ain’t you gonna cook me no supper?” Joe laughed as he touched her shoulder.  He looked as he did when she first knew him, well-muscled and lean with a full head of hair.

“Oh no, I ain’t even started!  You are early.” Anya told him.

“I’d say I’m right on time.  Come on along with me.”  The years fell away as Anya took his hand and stepped lively as a girl.