A new poem

As I write on my home page, I write about memory and how the land, in my case growing up on a farm, influenced my life and my writing…..

Thanks to The Plum Tree Tavern for publishing it.


I’d love to hear if it reminds you of your own wanderings through home and land memory.

Weather Report–Again

rainIn late winter, during warm days, I went out and watered the house. Yup. Our house is old with a rock basement, and a few years ago, during some drought time, I said, well, an old house like this has at least settled as much as it’s going to settle.

Oh, ye of little knowing.

It settled more and we had to have restoration builders in to fill in a gap in the dining room between wall and ceiling and tear out and rebuild the stairway wall which had a huge crack. No foundational structure problems, that was good, but a pricey learning experience none the less.

This year, we are not in drought. While up on the farm, we had three big rainstorms and I pumped out the basement the next day after each. No doubt there will be more to pump when I go up again in a couple of weeks. I’m getting to be an expert in submersible pump operation. One night, there was dancing woo-lee-masters-lightening all along the southern horizon (the farm is on a hill and we can see ten miles in all directions), some fast strikes straight down and some wrapped in a circle that probably became the tornado that hit near Topeka. My husband said it looked like the lightening in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. He knows these things about movies. When we got back to Kansas City yesterday, we found 3.5 inches of rain in our gauge and another half inch came last night. But no flood in this basement.

The afternoon we first came to look at this house, years ago, we walked up the drive and the thought that came was, well, it won’t flood. It doesn’t. The Missouri River is out of its banks in various areas, but we’re on a rise, just like the farm.

I don’t worry about tornadoes on the farm. I pay attention but I don’t worry. Tornadoes don’t like to climb hills. They don’t much like the middle of cities either. Too many distractions. A tendril might break off to go see a movie or a concert. Tornadoes are not to be trusted, in any event.

Now there’s Tropical Storm Bonnie revving up off the Carolinas, flooding in Texas, and as far as I can see from my phone’s weather app, Bonnie coming on shore against the eastward moving storms through the Midwest will likely make a mess.

It appears I will always be a farmer’s daughter. Loose in the world and watching winds and storm clouds. And trees. I have a big and very happy with all the rain oak out this window beyond my desk. Looking at it now, I hope the base is steady. It’s tall. It could make quite a mess of my writing room.