Sunday, June 10, 2018


            I have just been told I am leaving earth.  I can take one memory with me.  Just one.  I choose this:

          Sometimes in the morning, as I sink into the porch swing, the wind comes rushing up the mountain, as though to greet me. 
        A lone turkey, who has survived a shotgun blast, or who is just exploring and got lost, may scuttle across the edge of the yard, not minding me and my cup of coffee at all.  Turkeys are usually always in a gang, so one is an unusual sight.  Today a male ambled behind a female, keeping a safe distance, because she appeared to be in a tiff – pouting about something, perhaps?
        Sometimes a giant hawk suddenly sails through the air in that open space between my house and the woods.  I see a silent screech of brakes - landing gear down – legs long, claws extended and slicing through the sky.  The wingspan casts a large shadow.  He sees something I am not privy to on the sloping spot covered with tall grass and rocks.
        A blue bird perches at the door of the new house I have crookedly attached to a tree (so I can easily spy).  He pokes his head inside the small round hole, inspecting.  Is this a good spot for the second batch of eggs?  He flies off and in a few minutes, returns and goes inside.  Abode approved!
        I hear a single bird plaintively calling and then a whole mess of them, trying to outdo one another in the mountain choir. 
        Sometimes I sit all the way through the sunset and well into the darkness.  I watch trees that can’t sleep because the wind keeps them busy waving on through the night.  I hear the whippoorwill with his relentless cry.  Why say it so many times, birdie?
        Lightning bugs compete with the stars that twinkle through the tops of the trees.  Who knew they could fly so high?
        Serenity.  Happiness. Joy.  Who knows what the real word is?
        In the Bible, it says God know the desires of my heart.  It also says He went away to prepare a place for me.  ME.  If it is true that He knows everything I long for, I will not have to take the sweet memory of porch sittin’ with me.  A porch and a swing will be waiting for me when I get to my permanent home.
        But I would take this one memory – just in case….
        Porch sittin’.

Monday, May 28, 2018

On Becoming a Hermitess

While I do not regret becoming a hermitess, I believe there several problems associated with this decision:

1.  When there are no more cookies, you have only yourself to blame.

2.  Weekend games of three-legged racing and tag can be awkward.

3.  If you go missing, no one can describe what you were last seen wearing.

4.  Planning to spend a quiet Friday night square dancing will lead to a very unsatisfactory execution of: "Swing yore partner!"

5. "Who gets the Wishbone" and "Thumb Wrestling" are no longer competitive sports.

6.  That tick will have to stay there.

I love my life anyway!

Saturday, April 21, 2018


SO…I’m flipping channels this morning and landed on THE First Baptist.  The Youth Minister got up to lead the prayer.  In clear view, a choir member, right behind him, dressed in her angelic robe, leaned over to the lady beside her and whispered, frowny face and all, “He’s got on JEANS..." with an ugly little shake of her head.  (Oh - I wish I could show that clip to her.)  I hope she doesn't freeze that way some day.

All of television land saw his jeans, your highness.  We also saw what you said.  When the preacher does the next altar call, maybe you should hit it.  And lower your nose…if it is raining when church lets out, you’re gonna drown.

Intolerance and hatefulness has got to stop.  You know where I always see it most?


Lawd, I wonder what it’s gonna take….

Monday, April 16, 2018


And just like that
Under the cover of night
The renowned orchestra called GREEN
Came to town
They came with no instruments
Newborn, naked, and shy
But marched center stage
Fully at attention when morning came
Open and glistening
In tune with the sunrise
Brand New
No stage fright –
They lift their heads in unison
Singing as one
Winter deadness made new
Keeping rhythm with the breeze
For months, nothing will stop their song!
With no applause
Or standing ovations
And in most places
No audience
Singing to the heavens
A crescendo come to life!
their Conductor lives!

~Sister Saxon~


As winter leaves,
The last of winter’s leaves
In corners, crevices, and crannies
Like old women gossiping
They give occasional nervous flutters
As though having been suspiciously watching for my broom.

I approach and some snap to attention
A small cackling crackle of life

Yes - they had been waiting…

My broom moves and so do they
Lightly awkward
Gracefully clumsy
Careful in a cavalier kind of way…

They all run away
In rhythm to some unknown energy

Laugh dancing across the porch

I watch.
I consider.

What if it is not the wind?
What if it is of their own accord?

~Sister Saxon~

Monday, February 26, 2018


Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! I have seen the light! 

I was in error while trying to make a point that is related to my severely challenged way of thinking. Thinking such as this: 
It would be a Bigger Better Blessing to give a family in need a week's worth of groceries than to pay for one meal for a person who has everything.  You know, the way people do in restaurants now.  They will select someone or a whole family who is eating at the restaurant and pay for their meal.  Key point – someone who is already at the restaurant, thereby being someone who can afford to pay for their meal.

SO, I suggested this awful thing - maybe it would be better to give a family who is having a hard time a whole week’s worth of food rather than paying for a family’s meal in a nice restaurant.

Then, thank goodness, someone pointed out to me the error in my thinking:
“Those people” don’t make good use of what is given to them.  “Those people” will just use what you give them to buy drugs or alcohol.

What in this world has gotten into me?

I must stop looking at the mattresses of homeless people underneath the interstates.  I will turn the other way when someone asks me for spare change.  When I go to the VA Hospital, I won’t look at their faces.


(Take notes – you don’t want to wind up like me.)

Tuesday, January 9, 2018



They have managed to turn their so-called tragedies into something glamorous and celebratory.  If I hear an actress say "amazing" one more time I'm gonna puke.

Yes, I have become cynical, having lived through some "stuff" of my own.  I don't have the answers for the ACTUAL BONA FIDE hideous crap perpetrated on women.  it is unforgivable.  But I know this...when I was just a poor dumb kid and didn't even have a television in my home, I heard the phrase "Hollywood Casting Couch" and I knew what it meant (and that was a looong time ago).

Crudeness seems to be a Hollywood mindset.  You see it every single day!  Watch five minutes of today's sitcoms.  Listen to actresses talk on late night talk shows...or daytime talk shows.  Watch women wear their dresses down to there and seduce men in front of the world.  I don't know about you, but I have always been given the impression that 'anything goes in Hollywood'.  Now they stand, shocked and horrified, in their black designer gowns.

Good acting.

When you wear a dress from Walmart to commiserate with and show solidarity to women who do not think their abusive situation is glamorous and who do not have the choices you have and who do not know what a freakin' hashtag is, I might watch your movies again.

Oh we are supposed to vote for Oprah for President..