Venison

"Hunters sharing the harvest" is written on deep frozen, ground deer meat. Thank you for sharing. I wouldn't be able to hunt down and shoot a deer. It is more like the deer would hunt me. I was defrosting venison in microwave gyro style. To shave the defrosted part and continue in the deep defrosting. Meatloaf was good. I liked it. I appreciated it. Last time we have had venison was about twenty years ago.
It was nice cool fall day and we went for a walk from Frackville to Shenandoah in Pennsylvania. Shenandoah in that time had a doughnut shop, two furniture stores, a bakery, and more attractions. On the way there a gentleman in the car stopped and gave us a ride to Shenandoah. We looked in the furniture store, had a doughnut in the doughnut shop and walked back. We met the same gentleman and he gave us the ride to Frackville again. He was on the way from his family which supplied him with venison. He didn't like the deer meet and we gladly took all packages he gave to us. Deer meet was considered a rare delicacy in our family.
We have had deer steak, sausages, hamburger meat. I even cooked a venison goulash and roasted sirloin. We feasted on the deer meat for about two weeks.
Today I finished the meatloaf. The deer meat was appreciated.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, September 2011

Imaginary cat

At your old age you will acquire a cat, so somebody will be waiting for you after you will return back home from work. You will feed the cat, change her litter box, brush the cat's fur and scratch her behind her ears. And it is not all about your cat. One night she will deliver her kittens at your feet in your bed and you will have to clean up after her. You'll find out a father of her three kittens is mangy, tiny and bowlegged cat across the street. The forth kitten she acquired only your cat knows where, that promiscuous animal. For next six weeks you and she will devote your time to care for the kittens. You'll find out pleading that she rather should watch Super Bowl with you is useless. Half grown kittens you will force as presents to your friends - and situation will repeat, because the kitty is sitting by the door - she wants to go out again. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Stephenville, 3/7/2005

Colors of loves

Loves come in different colors. Yellow for John. He was good looking man, always surrounded by flocks of young girls - - yellow for jealousy. Pale blue for Peter who liked to travel and was never home. Blue for arriving postcards with the pictures of blue seas. Blue for hope, blue was good for dreams. Love for Danny began like little, pink, yellow and blue flames over the building fire. The fire was growing bigger and bigger, turned red - - and then there was nothing left to feed the fire into. The furniture, the house, the trees, everything was gone. I found a jewelry box in the hot ashes and walked away with a child's hand in my hand. There is no one love for people who make many mistakes. They are more, until they learn the hard way. There is an only one love and only one man. Love - one hundred dollar bill exchanged for change falling out of the pockets, loose change in the corners of my purse, some in the valet. This is why I pick cents on the sidewalk - - it's a good exercise - and, maybe, among them will be one lucky one - - for love, luscious green, fulfilling, nourishing ... don't be a cow ... Didn't you already have enough? ... chewing Spring grass on the green pasture, filling, dreaming, eating, swallowing, regurgitating, chewing on memories ... Don't be such a cow ... Come back ... Self consuming flame of love. I am back on the pasture, eating green grass, looking with big blue eyes, thickly covered with eyelashes into high blue skies. Flick with my tail to the side of my body - - that was one busybody. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011 Pottsville, 1/10/2012

Grey

Grey houses, grey streets, grey towns. Black asphalt, road snakes toward grey highway, touching grey sky in horizon. Grey sparrows sit on the bush, yellow sprigs are full of sap. Everything is waiting for Spring to come. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/24/2008

A dream 1

Tell me what are you dreaming about, when you sleep? Your eyelids and a tail are twitching, clenching your paws, stretching your claws, moving whiskers. Tell me, what are you dreaming about? You don't see and you don't hear. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 1/23/2012w

The house

Do not invite anybody home. A house is falling into the pieces. The roof is leaking and a mold ate the kitchen floor. Do not invite anybody to your house. It is a ruin now. I came to see her in the hospital, after she took to many pills. She was holding given tapestry on her knees: "... and I thought he doesn't love me..." She wanted to come back. Whatever he took, I even do not remember his name, he didn't want to come back. It was final. I know I owe her words of sympathy, but I can't overcome a barrier I built by myself inside of me. Our past keeps hunting us in our future. There is no escape. Yes, I am sorry it happened to her and more I am sorry for one thrown away young life. I guess, it is all mothers nightmare and for her it came thorough. We moved from the house into an apartment. The house was torn down. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011 Pottsville, 1/15/2012

Last twenty dollars

How am I going to spend last $20.00? A question is last twenty dollars until when? Today is Monday ... Do they have to last until tonight, or until Friday, when next paycheck is arriving?
What I can think about first is my stomach of course. It always comes first. How boring. Do I have to make rather short grocery list? Lets pretend a refrigerator is full of groceries, fruit and vegetables to last until Friday. Pantry is overflowing with edible goods. Don't laugh. Some people take pantry as an extra storage place and they store tools, electrical bulbs, even nails there. Yes, the nails are a good source of iron, but how to retrieve it? In the corner sits a mouse trap still with rather disgusting looking piece of an old cheese. The mouse will be not coming here anyway since the cat is regularly patrolling his territory.
I still have $20.00 to spend. Since we do not have any bookstore in our area I can not go there ...
Here goes one dollar for charities, another for overdue dues and for $18.00 lets buy gas. Now I am completely broke, so lets wait for social security check to arrive.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 1/14/2012
POW! assignment

Forgetfulness

What it is not in the head has to be in the legs; when I am running fifth time the steps, up to comb my hair, down on the way out, coming back, because I forget to take driving glasses, wearing reading glasses instead. Ringing the bell, please, let me in, my key is still lying on the window sill. I can not drive a car without one, can I? How will I get in when you will be not at home? I love my adult age. I am full of surprises, what I shall forget to take with me next time. Well, I was never well organized. Yes, I am leaving for town, now. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/10/2012

Changes

according an embryo pickled in spirits in the school cabinet I am in vertical position, I do not think, I do not see, because my eyes didn't develop yet. My heart is pickled, so I do not feel. I swim in some liquid. My underdeveloped brain is permanently pickled in the spirits, so I am brain damaged. I look like E.T., they say, when they are passing into their biology class, notebooks in their hands and pleated skirts create a little breeze in always stuffed hallway. The boys are following discussing the last football game. One of them pointed at me: "This embryo was here, when my father attended this school thirty years ago". So nothing changes, only pupils do. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/3/2012

Little girl

A house full of hatred, my sweet girl, why are you so upset? We are not going to meet anymore. What is going on in your head? I miss you, my little girl, make it up a little bit. Come and meet me a halfway. We shall meet at a crossroad. I'll ring a bell at your door, little girl, come and open the door for me. Don't ring the bell, do not call me, do not write me letters. You shut the door, slammed the gate shut. I do not open, you will not hear from me. You lay down in the bed you made up for yourself. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/2/2012