A Limehouse Original
Tag: #grownups
Drinks
My wife pointed out something to me recently and now I can’t un-see it. People in the Hamptons, mostly visitors but many locals too, have this fascination of always having to have a beverage of some sort in their hand as they walk around outside. It’s true… it happens here. Does it happen everywhere?There are very few people walking about without one arm bent at the elbow, forearm forward and their hand – in the horizontal C -holding a cup of something hot or cold.
It used to be that if you had a beverage you couldn’t enter a shop but now it’s not given a second thought. (It happens with dog owners too but that’s a different story) So in they walk, with their drink leading the way, about to look through $500 Ulla Johnson clothing. They handle the clothes with one hand, sipping their coffee or smoothie with the other while their kids run around the store like it’s Chucky Cheese. It must be the Nanny’s day off.
We can’t blame them really. Most were brought up with a silver spoon in their mouth prior to their first beverage PLUS they really aren’t used to actually looking after their own kids. Poor things.
I understand the importance of staying hydrated but this is different. Even the kids do it. When I was a child, you played all day outside with nothing besides someone’s hose. I can still feel the cold water running down my hand as I held the hose straight up so it would form a fountain of water. I survived somehow.
They will, however, ask for a paper straw because the others are bad for the environment. They then take the paper straw, push it through the plastic lid, into the man-made ice held by a plastic cup and feel good that they are doing the right thing for the eco-system.
But this increased hydration has led to the obvious side effect…. increased elimination. First, the elimination of the drink container by-product then the elimination of the drink by-product. So the waste baskets and cesspools are full but thank god for the paper straw used for the somehow ever present drink.
#Thoughts
The Bubble Bench
As I look out from my front steps,
Across the rolling green;
Leading to a tree filled wood of oak and evergreen.
I think about our days gone by,
And working side by side;
To make this brand new house a home,
It’s future we relied.
We had our son of eighteen months,
Help us lead the way;
As we readied Camelot,
To serve a troop someday.
A canvas blank was in our hands,
Ideas began to flow;
And we worked hard both day and night,
To make our mansion grow.
It’s hard to even think about the challenges we met,
As we put in place a dream,
With blood and tears and sweat.
The chore of wearing many hats and juggling many balls;
Never led us off the path,
Of building our four walls.
Classroom mom and baseball coach were givens year to year;
As our family grew in size, our roles in life were clear.
I could raise the money as you would lead the team;
All the while our eyes were set on building on our dream.
Lots of seeds and shrubs and trees were planted as we grew;
Building sheds and garden beds were things we added, too.
We even made a special place,
For all of us to band;
The bubble bench would be the spot if danger was at hand.
It all moved by so quickly,
That saying is so true;
Enjoy it while ya got it now cause soon it will be through.
As I look out from my front steps,
Across the rolling green;
I see we’ve headed down the path,
Of shoring up our dream.
Now the nest is empty,
And we start it all once more;
Repairing this and fixing that,
Continuing the chore.
It’s certainly a cycle,
At least it seems to be;
The making of our happy home,
It shapes both you and me.
Now it’s truly our turn,
To do just as we please;
To make another wonder land,
Of flowers, plants and trees.
But we would both give anything,
To do it all once more;
Lets all meet at the bubble bench,
For love we can’t ignore.
Island of Lost Faces
Wander through the lonely spaces,
On the Island of Lost Faces,
Feelings surface that you can’t ignore.
Often only tiny traces,
Showing up in obscure places,
Memories of those you knew before.
Way back when, do you remember?
Starting high school in September,
She walks in and your heart skips a beat.
How she’s grown over the summer,
Clearly now an up and comer,
She glances at you as she takes her seat.
You somehow don’t know what to say,
Another glance is thrown your way,
Your mouth is dry, your head has beads of sweat.
She turns and smiles and looks your way,
Then you hear her softly say,
“This class is bad, how boring can it get?”
You search for words and force a smile,
Dying inside all the while,
Hoping for a way to make it fly.
All at once you start to mumble,
Words get stuck, thoughts are jumbled,
She just smiles and feeds off your reply.
You make a statement so profound,
Reflecting on the world around,
She simply nods and makes you feel ok.
That’s the signal you’ve been needing,
Eyes connect and hers are pleading,
Finally it’s time to make your play.
Two as one, the warm embraces,
On the Island of Lost Faces,
Feel the gentle stirring in your soul.
Often only tiny traces,
Reaching out from lonely places,
Living fantasies will take its toll.
Suddenly it feels so crazy,
Stomach churns, eyes get hazy,
How can days gone by cause such a stir?
Simply it’s a natural yearning,
Growing old but never learning,
Things can never be just as they were.
Wandering the lonely spaces,
On the Island of Lost Faces,
Memories of those you’ve known before.
Those fleeting looks over the shoulder,
Intense looks that made you bolder,
Are merely lessons from a life before.
Christine
A Limehouse Original
Things Inside My Head 