Sunday, April 30, 2006

Observation Journal 4/30/06

Birds this morning--I never heard such a racket, so much chirping and squawking. The pileated woodpecker is the most amazing. It calls out loud and clear, mimicking Woody the Woodpecker--Not really, this bird is much more fascinating, but it does have loud shrill call. The cartoon character was based on this bird. I love living in a rural area.

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A family member has been taken to the hospital tonight. I'm always amazed how these things catch me off guard. I guess I'm the eternal optimist, never thinking anything can go wrong...

Keith Richards In Hospital After Fall From Palm Tree

Keith Richards In Hospital After Fall From Palm Tree

Okay, he fell from the tree. I get that part. But what the heck was he doing up in a palm tree to begin with? Oh, wait! He is an antique rocker...Oh, I get it. ;)

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

The Pilgrims' Voyage

I first wrote this story five years ago. I've dusted it off and polished it. What do you think?

The Pilgrims' Voyage

A crisp autumn morning sent brilliant sun sparkles dancing off the shiny sea. The great vessel, its sails billowing in the wind, anchored in the harbor at Plymouth, England while passengers for the New World struggled along the walkway, lugging their dreams wrapped up in neat bundles along with their possessions. For these were deeply religious people who sought freedom from the Church of England to practice their faith in their own way in a new land.
Anna English and her husband, Tom, struggled with a huge black trunk as William, their boy, tagged behind. This was the last of their baggage and once stowed, Anna stopped to survey her fellow passengers, hoping to find someone familiar. She was acquainted with all, but some were more familiar than others.
"Anna, isn't it a shame about the other ship, the Speedwell?" her friend, Margaret, asked. The other boat had been declared unseaworthy, and now only the Mayflower could make the trip.
"Yes, especially since now we are squeezed in tighter than ever," Anna replied.
"At least we are getting out of England."
Yes, we are getting out of England, and we will be free. Anna's heart beat a little faster as she watched beat-up trunks and heavy boxes moving past. She studied the graceful sails bulging above, the intricate framework of the ship, the wooden deck, and the rugged contraptions used to sail the boat. Seagulls swooped across the sky, and the smell of salt water tickled her nose. Looking toward the horizon she spied the expanse of endless blue, blue that reached forever, a sultry hue that at the other end splashed against shores that would be her new home. It was September 16, 1620, a day of new beginnings. Anna could feel stabss of joy in her heart, painful in their intensity.
Suddenly, the din on the ship intensified as sailors yelled while ropes and white sails twirled in a flurry of movement. Her spouse, Tom, hugged Anna and their son, William, as the massive ship jerked and shook when the heavy anchor was hoisted out of the water and lowered onto the deck. The boat swayed as skillful seamen tugged and pulled to make the sails fill with air.
The ship inched forward slowly, then faster. Her heart pounded as Anna felt the ship's movement, propelling them away from the shore. They were heading out to open sea. The Pilgrims cheered despite their normal seriousness. Anna clutched Tom's arm tight as the vessel picked up speed. She whispered good-bye to England wistfully. Soon they were flying like the wind! The journey had begun.
That evening, the Pilgrims gathered for a meal on board the ship. Their first concern was to thank God for a good and safe beginning to the voyage. They enjoyed an elaborate feast with fruits and vegetables that would not be available later in their journey. The supper was festive, hopeful, and full of good faith. Soon conditions would change.
The going remained slow at first, as the Pilgrims adjusted to the limitations of life at sea. On the ship, 101 passengers took residence, each eking out a space by squatter's rights, and Anna felt hopelessly confined in the tight quarters she had found for herself and her family. A cubicle with enough space to spread out a blanket to sleep was provided, and nothing more. Each day turned into the next in a monotony propelled by the motion of the sea. She made the most of it at first, but after two weeks, the strain took hold. To begin with, the motion of the boat made her sick, and she couldn't get used to it. She didn't dare go to the upper deck for fear the rocking would make her feel worse. Down below, many others were sick as well, and the stench of vomit and diarrhea made her more ill. She spent most of the time confined to her miniature sleeping area, resting and eating little for fear of bringing the food back up. The confinement transformed her into a caged animal, losing touch with life and its refinements, quickly scaling down to brute survival. The only day she ventured out of her cubicle was dreadful.
"Anna, how are you?" Her friend, Margaret, was the first person she saw. Concern cast a shadow over the other woman's face.
"Yes, you look pale, Sister. Let me get you something to eat."
Anna put out a hand to stop her friend. "No, please. I can't eat." She paused and looked around the ship. "How have things been up here on deck?"
"Not good. You see those people over there," Margaret nodded toward three men clustered together across from them. "There has been some fighting as to who has the right to what and so forth, and there is talk of splitting up when we get to Virginia. We are squeezed in so tight. Tempers are short."
"Splitting up! But we came to seek freedom together! To start a new colony!"
"It appears some folks would like their freedom not so much from England as from their neighbors," Margaret said, arching one eyebrow as she spoke.
Anna glared at the men to see lines of consternation on their faces. What was this unrest about? What had happened to their dream? She caught sight of Myles Standish and John Alden standing far off, studying the other group.
Shrugging her shoulders, she murmured, "God help us," before retreating to her cubicle.
Anna continued to be sick and soon lost track of time altogether. Life as she remembered distanced itself, and now she lived in a strange, new reality. It was a new existence living in a box, always hungry, and never being happy or occupied. Her husband and son gave up on her as incorrigible and waited to see if at the journey's end, she would come back to them. She felt dirty living in the lower deck with its sickening odors. The poor woman wore the same clothes as when they started, and her hair was a tangled mat looking more like a bird's nest than a woman's properly combed tresses.
Sometimes she would look around, and everything would seem suddenly new and different, unfamiliar and frightening, although she had been staring at the same walls and people for weeks. Her mind, suffering under the strain of the voyage, frequently played such tricks on her.
At night, she heard and sensed the sea until it enveloped her with its dark magic, bringing to mind legends of monsters, ghosts, and other ghastly creatures that lurked on the water and under it. Anna became a product of her environment. Fantasies such as ghosts seemed all too real to her as she listened to the ocean splashing against the boat, remaining mesmerized and under its trance. She lay rigid on her bed and listened to every creak and groan of the old boat. With each tremor or squeak, she shivered.
One night, it was worse than ever. She was dozing when a thunderous roar awakened her. A dream of dragon monsters on the sea left its eerie residue in her mind as she woke.
The storm, the worst they had encountered, rocked the boat while thunder and rain bombarded the vessel. Terrified, Anna crawled close to her husband, Thomas, and clung to him. When lightning flashed, illuminating the deck in an instant of electric horror, she screamed in a hollow empty wail that had a life of its own. Rain and thunder went on for hours, while the Pilgrims dug their Bibles out of musty old trunks and read the Scriptures with all their hearts, offering prayer to a merciful God to see them through the storm. A moody pink dawn brought an end to the torment when the rains quit.
The people came up on the deck in small, slow steps, still frightened, but gazing around to ascertain the damage. The Mayflower had made it, but a new problem presented itself. The storm had knocked them totally off course. They had lost their way to Virginia.
The news traveled around the ship like a firestorm. Its urgency snapped Anna back to reality, a slap in the face, a clarion call that something had to be done or she would be lost in this unfathomable hell for the rest of her life. She sought out her friend, Margaret.
"Margaret, what do you know about all this?"
"It's true. We are off course. We will land in the New World, but not in Virginia."
"Not in Virginia?"
"Somewhere else, along the coast all alone and lucky to be alive!"
Anna pondered this news as she felt a new strength rolling over in her soul, growing with each breath. At least they would still land in the New World. We will just have to make the best of things and thank God we are alive, she thought. Making a life in the wilderness would not be easy.
"I must help the others," she said as she gathered up her black skirt and rushed to where the Pilgrims were assembled.
Anna spent the next weeks holding hands and talking people through their fears. She encouraged others to have faith that they could still prosper in the new land although their plans had been ruined.
"We are a self-sufficient people. We will make a good life for ourselves, with God's help," she told one and all. Many felt heartened by her words and prayers. The only area where she had little influence was in the growing schism among the Pilgrims, but Alden and Standish were preparing a Compact to bind the group together again once they reached land.
Finally, on November 21, they spotted the coast. Anna ran to the deck to gaze out, straining to catch a glimpse of the wondrous New World where they planned to start new lives.
"YES, YES! There it is! There it is!" Anna screamed as she jumped up and down and pointed. Gazing at the golden shore, her heart was filled with wonder that was quickly replaced by restlessness. She wanted to get off the boat--needed to get off the boat. Clenching her fists, she waited as the Mayflower glided quickly toward land. All 101 Pilgrims were gathered on the deck when the anchor was dropped. They scattered off the ship in a wave of crazy euphoria as the good earth felt firm under foot again. They jumped and hugged one another in torrents of emotion long kept in check. The hardships and pain of the sea journey were forgotten.
Anna picked up sand in quiet wonder and strained it through her fingers. It glittered and streamed to the ground like tiny gems. She spun around and looked back to sea, pondering the expanse of endless blue, blue that reached out forever, that at its other end splashed against the shores of a land called England.
"With God's help, freedom," she said as she bowed her head in prayer.

Copyright 2006 JO Janoski

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Two Kinds of People

Glimpses of people in poetry...

Two kinds of people...

Sales Clerk
Eyes closed to me
Keyboard pounding check-out
Leaves me lonely, feeling untouched

Sales Girl
Giggles, hellos
Magic motion check-out
Paying glows with painless bright light
A smile

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Stopping Time

A poem to start a beautiful spring morning...

Stopping Time

Softening light smooths my glaring world
while morning's stillness pushes away
motor-driven thoughts of "things to do"
and stops time
to recline in this white velvet moment
of careful consideration
of what "it" is all about.

Copyright 2006 JO Janoski
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Recent Poetry

Tuesday, April 18, 2006


(A fun radio script)...

I haven't done a commercial in a while, not since the poo-gram and laundry detergent.

FRED: Hello, we are two dogs and a cat--I'm Fred, he's Rover, and that other despicable creature over there is the cat whose name I don't even recall. Yuck!

CHLOE: I'm Chloe the cat! Ignore that cretin dog, Folks!

ROVER: Hey, shut up, Chloe! That's my buddy! Hey, ho, Freddie!

FRED: Yeah, okay, Rover! Anyway, we are here to introduce you to the Constant Comfort Mattress, the mattress that lets you sleep like a kitten all night long.

CHLOE: Hey! Watch your language! I'm the only one who gets to talk about felines, you moron! You're not even worthy to walk in my wake, you hairy ball of blubber.

FRED: I'll deal with you later, Chloe! Speaking of hairy, you should wish you had my beautiful red Irish setter fur. But I digress... Folks, Constant Comfort mattresses come in all the usual sizes--twin, regular, queen, and king. But they also have a Super King size that is big enough for the whole family. I have to say I'm not fond of the concept--I mean, those silly humans...they always want to get in the bed with Rover, Chloe, and me. We try to kick them out, but it never works. And that's why Constant Comfort has designed this new, larger mattress size.

ROVER: Yeah, those stupid humans can fit on it, too, even when I want to stretch.

CHLOE: Yes, and it is so big I can have my own personal space, just the way I like it.

FRED: It's sturdy, too. I have some nasty claws, and when I scratch out a patch to sleep on at night, that mattress can take my paws digging in night after night.

CHLOE: Yes, and it sooo luxurious. I can feel my precious little body sinking into its comforts, from head to toe. Mmmmm, so soft.

ROVER: And yet supportive, yippee! Can you believe it! I'm a restless sleeper, and on our old mattress, when I rolled over, the old bed shook, jiggling everyone around like jello. The humans used to get really mad, not a nice trait for guests, I might add.

FRED: I remember that. I got sea sick one time, threw up all over the bed, but I digress. Now we can all roll over from side to side, or onto our backs or stomachs, and the mattress stays firm.

CHLOE: Yes, the less I have to listen to the others complaining, the happier I am, of course!

FRED: So check out the Constant Comfort mattress today, and you'll sleep like a kitten tonight!

CHLOE: Shut up about kittens! Blasphemy!

ROVER: Buy one today! Your humans will thank you for it! Arf!

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Yellow (A Cinquain Poem)

The third in my group of three poems on recent changes in the weather.


Giggling across brown fields
In gay splatters of life unleashed
in spring.


Copyright 2006 JO Janoski

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Breezes (A cinquain poem)

The following is a cinquain poem, a poem of 5 lines with the following syllables per line: 2, 4, 6 8, 2. Try one! They are fun. This is the second of three short tributes to the changing weather I'm planning this week. And now, the poem:


Caress my cheek
Kissing warm breath of spring
Chasing chilly disposition
of March

Copyright 2006 JO Janoski

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Robin (Cinquain poem)

The following is a cinquain poem, a poem of 5 lines with the following syllables per line: 2, 4, 6 8, 2. Try one! They are fun. This is the first of three short tributes to the changing weather I'm planning this week. And now, the poem:


Cocked head, red breast
Listening to senses
Catching my breath, I wait with him
For worms.

Copyright 2006 JO Janoski

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Dog Lamps and Other Pet Tricks

I am the proud parent of the coolest dog in the world, Well, okay, most dog owners think their pooch is the coolest, smartest, most attractive animal on the planet--much like human parents feel the same way about their babies. But Peepers really is cool.

We brought her home from a goat farm ten years ago, a wild little dog who had (literally) been raised up to that point in a barn. When I placed her down in our house, she bolted for an end table and jumped on it. I have to say, this dog looked mighty strange standing next to my favorite lamp. No manners whatsoever!

When we finally domesticated her, she became a loyal companion. For that I love my pooch, but I cherish her even more for a fun-loving nature. I don't know if it is the breed, smooth fox terrier, or just her personality, but Peepers loves to play. Chasing a ball, yes, but much more. She devises her own games, catching it in her long skinny snout, then proceeding to bury the toy in leaves or under a blanket, next digging it back up again with lots of pouncing and rustling. If it is Peeper's play time and you are remiss, she will arrive with the ball in her mouth to sit and stare at you until you relent.

She plays like a terrier--lots of jumping and endless vigor. But in the next moment, she can be a lap dog. Humbly crawling on you and curling up with a sigh. Peepers is expressive, and I know what is on her mind most of the time...a rare degree of communication you don't see often with pets. Oops, speaking of being expressive...there's my girl--staring at me with her blue ball in her mouth. I gotta go!

Sunday, April 09, 2006


A nine-square poem...

Stark black ghost flies through time in cold rush
Frightening, declaring rudiments
of future to achieve or perish.

Its reach like ice steals joy and warns me
engaging inwardly fearfully
to forewarn, to repeat, to repel.

Pain need not be bad and one must hope
faithfully, carefully, hopefully
for destiny to arrive with kindness.


Copyright 2006 JO Janoski 

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Catholic School...
And how it made me what I am today

I dedicated my first book, Tea and Chocolates, to my old school teachers, the Sisters of St. Rosalia School. You might find it odd, but I couldn't help myself. They taught me everything I needed to get through the adversities in life, and for that, my gratitude is endless.

Discipline: In Catholic school, there are no excuses. I cannot remember a single time where an excuse was accepted for being late, homework not done, or a failing grade. The Sisters would have none of it. To be honest, the last thing I wanted would be to make someone with a name like "Sister Servula" angry. If that nomenclature sounds scary--well, she was. Don't worry--the nuns did not use corporal punishment, but they did make good use of their voices, coupled with the power to extract red-faced shame from recalcitrant students. In retrospect, there was nothing they did as severe as the real knocks and bumps of adult life, but the determination to do the right thing or else learned in those knee-knocking days still works well in the real world.

Secondly, they taught us devotion...devotion to something larger than ourselves. A Force, if you will, to guide one's conscience and to soothe one's soul. Personally, I think the worst thing we can do today is remove God from public schools. To whom are we teaching the children to lean on, and to whom are they answerable for their deeds? I think the accountability to a Higher Power has everything to do with preparing one's self for the future. Do the public schools propose to separate from that learning and to teach only what is in their textbooks? Is that possible?

Nihilism is an ugly monster. To see only as far as the tip of your own nose is the most vulgar, self-limiting thing I can imagine. Spiritual knowledge is actually self-knowledge in disguise, and I think that is where the Sisters succeeded. Most of all, they taught me to know myself--to know I could accomplish what needed to be done and to see a shining star in the sky every night offering inspiration beyond life's limits. What better education is there?

Copyright 2006 JO Janoski