To have a “parent” that has ALL the tools given them to be a TRUE”giver” of life is much better than a ‘parent’ that PLAYS at the task. Raised by Mater’s “combinants” it is chilling to realize that she only took me on vacations to be company to her “favorite”… DENNY-PIE. As favorite this man has NO desire to enhance the gene pool that HE COULD overwhelm with INTELLIGENCE and ABILITIES that are rare in these times. FIFTY-EIGHT years of age, still living AT “HOME” with MOMMY. Inheriting something that HAS been washed of original purchase. “Farm-able” soil that fed SIX children through the “Great Depression”, WWII, Korea and Viet Nam. Enough TOMATOES to supply the local DAIRY QUEEN, as well as furnish the towns resident owned grocery, until the 1926 purchasers left their shells after 95 PLUS cycles. I guess it’s all a matter of selection and understanding. The type of understanding that “befell” Esau.. a conniving need that WAS bigger than himself. Lucky for me that I’d read the script. It’ s a role that I DO UNDERSTAND. But, unlike Esau, I WILL NOT CRY for some THING that fervor wore away. It’s like spinning the tires OFF a car because of its power, it’s done for only so long. Oh, well. The season IS quiet, and I DON’T have to fake a moment around those that do nothing else. HAPPY HOLY-DAYS!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

to be an orphan with living spawn

the attitudes of love as prod

a Mater full of disgusts self made

far from wonder offspring grown depraved

the genius stunted not far long

we’ve wiped the lanolin worked to strong

though life has oops-es strewn around

there’s saving graces most profound

they brought us into a world quite dense

yet, put the effort in this more fence

the “holiday” was from their youth

of what not proud of the passion’s goof

the best part of this simple jibe

is SHE won’t read such won’t proscribe

but, as the book says HONOR BE

a long of life of created’s misery

but, grins all grow as self is built

the proof  “successful”… to the HILT

+++++I still grow as much of my own foods as possible, I’m preparing the LAST Tomato for a sandwich in four days, a pound and a quarter Cherokee Purple. The Broccoli will last until February, as the Collard Greens through the winter itself. The ensuing crop of GARLIC(S) will be TWICE the size in ANY grocery chain’s. And, YET, “they” want their “BABYLON”, gardens reeking of decay by the simple act of sought pride and, NEGLECT. But, that IS the AMERICAN “DREAM”… the ‘Free-DUMB” to DO as ONE pleases.