SUNDAY to SUNDAY in "WESSIEFOO"

Looking back to Massachusetts 
on a Wednesday in Manhattan

Some of the Skies

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~*~

Where I Slept

A scarf filters the hot noon sun.

There's a wonderful wall of  family Memories.

Blue jays nest in the tree and birdsong wakes me.

The pool prompts me to get outside.

~*~

Fathers Day

Nephew Jason and Uncle Dick are swimming...

...while Mother Rachel serves outrageously rich desert:

Happy Birthday Richard and Solstice Celebration all.

Jason anticipates sweet delight...

 

...while we all prepare our taste buds:

Beautiful Nina,

and genial Cousin Roger...

...plus Daddy Tim and Aunt Jenny.

(no photo too busy enjoying)

After the feast, under the Umbrella...

...a most contented me.

~*~

Inside

(Where Critters stay Cool and Calm)

Sissy, Rhodo, Betsy and Mona huddle in a pile...

while Bruno the Wonder Dog guards his toy.

~*~

Summer Solstice

This 'longest day' goes on forever.

Time for Tiger Lilies...

...Bee Balm,

 ...and Catalpa blooms arrives.

Fireflies dance at dusk.

(no photo 'cause my camera can't capture it)

~*~

Laundry Is Universal

 changing patterns...

 and sometimes...

a message.

 ~*~

Plants Day 

A quick trip to Pignatare Farm for basil, pots and petunias
 

Then planting...

...Transplanting,

Cleaning, debugging,

and hanging.

~*~

Media

(see LINKS for details)

Historic House Sit-In led by John Lewis

 The Brexit Vote

 Mainly we watched a few very fine films like
"As Good as It Gets" and "Being There".

~*~

Farewell Again

A week of serious country lay-abouting, firefly dusks, full moon nights, beautiful skies, constant birdsong, a lot of good food, and mostly no stress at all with three very, very good friends...

...made my Manhattan return seem like falling on to a speedway mid-race.  I caught the end of the gay parade (which I was sorry to have missed) from a slowly crawling cross town bus...

...and took note of a too familiar sad scene--a homeless woman who might even have lived in this vacated building once--and above her a pigeon who might have had a friend feeding it daily on that very ledge.

 ~*~

Three Images

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LINKS

Pignatare Farm

http://www.farmfresh.org/food/farm.php?farm=1510

Brexit

http://www.openculture.com/2016/06/brexit-101-the-uks-stunning-vote-explained-in-4-minutes.html

The Sit In-John Lewis

https://johnlewis.house.gov/john-lewis/biography

"Being There"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Being_There

"As Good as It Gets"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/As_Good_as_It_Gets 

~*~

HIS and HERS

Two parts of a memoir first published in 2012

His Dad

For D. M. S and W. J. S.

A Boy and His Dad

by Edgar Guest

A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip
There is a glorious fellowship!
Father and son and the open sky
And the white clouds lazily drifting by,

And the laughing stream as it runs along
With the clicking reel like a martial song,
And the father teaching the youngster gay
How to land a fish in the sportsman's way.

I fancy I hear them talking there
In an open boat, and the speech is fair.
And the boy is learning the ways of men
From the finest man in his youthful ken.

Kings, to the youngster, cannot compare
With the gentle father who's with him there.
And the greatest mind of the human race
Not for one minute could take his place.

Which is happier, man or boy?
The soul of the father is steeped in joy,
For he's finding out, to his heart's delight,
That his son is fit for the future fight.

He is learning the glorious depths of him,
And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim;
And he shall discover, when night comes on,
How close he has grown to his little son.

A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip—
Builders of life's companionship!
Oh, I envy them, as I see them there
Under the sky in the open air,

For out of the old, old long-ago
Come the summer days that I used to know,
When I learned life's truths from my father's lips
As I shared the joy of his fishing-trips.

Her Daddy

by Ms. 

She didn't 'go-fish' with her giant of a father, except when she could get him to play cards, but he hoisted her up six feet to his shoulders at the much anticipated end-of-week arrivals. She'd never be so tall as in those days long ago when three familiar families joined together, sharing one communal Summer vacation rental.  It was a time when working class wives were home.  Fathers disappeared weekdays into the wider world with it's mysteries never revealed at suppertime.

School closed for three whole months!  It meant freedom, screened in sleeping porches, ice cream cones, beach sand everywhere, waves to plunge through, or lakes to float upon, woods to explore, staying up late, easy board games, drive-in movies in our pajamas, the company of cousins, suddenly permissive adults, space to dream, ocean scenes, shooting stars and fireflies.

 

SATURDAY into SUNDAY

Summer Solstice

Fathers Day

No Daddy

I searched through poets for a verse, but nothing suited me.
Idly speculating I wondered, if you had lived what might I be?

Would I still wear the woman I am, or dress in other incarnations?
Would you have weathered the storms of my stages, my stations of the cross,
our tribulations? 

Would you have loved me anyway?
Sixty years is a long, long time to have had no Daddy on Fathers Day.

Daddy, I hardly knew you.  Pictures, some artifacts, memory flooded shores
are all there is of you, save a brother whose fine features mimic yours.

Wait---one thing more--a gesture of celebration, and
because you were a good man, this Solstice sun in my open hand.

~*~
A few years back to 2013-This post
http://mscomfortzone.blogspot.com/2012/06/shooting-stars-and-fireflies.html