Friends  

Dec. 16, 2023

Meet Mardi.  She walks everywhere, Sometimes others join us

Flatland, uphill and down. In the middle or at the start.

Her goals include inspiring We may be a bunch of old fogies

All the people of our town. But we are very young at heart!

Meet Marla, the graceful matriarch Meet the Resource Center Wunderkin,

Of our Friday Morning crew. Molly and Shelby and Chris.

Classical music is her bag, Molly’s the Resource Lady

But the Jazz Bros will do! And she invents groups like this.

Meet Tina Catalina.      Shelby reads children's stories

She’s in charge of all PR         To the little kids in town.

For the Coffee Club, the Brewery, Chris entertains us with his guitar

But especially the Logger Bar! When he’s not hauling boxes around.

Meet Ann, so sweet and quiet, These three bring a sense of vitality

Until she hears a familiar song, And make us old fogies feel great!

Then listen up, because she’ll join As though our opinions are valued,

With you and sing along.         As though our ideas carry weight.

Meet Art, who keeps discussions going So here’s to the friendships we’ve made here!

And who also happens to sing, So here’s to the laughter and fun!

But do not be mistaken.         So here’s to the time that we spend here!

Baseball is his thing! May we all just keep on keepin’ on!

Meet Jackie. She loves her Friday mornings

It’s her favorite day and time,

And she’s the author of this poem

And other little rhymes.

 For My Family

Dec. 23, 2014

For thirty-five Christmas Eves (give or take one or two)

I've known exactly what I would do.

I'd pack all the gifts and food in the car

And drive a bit south, not very far,

To my sister's place where the house overflowed

With family and friends, and the Christmas tree glowed.

The Kemps cooked the main course, the guests brought the sides,

And we ate and we talked and we laughed and we cried.

Some years we had "programs" with songs by the kids,

Some years we played games, and guess what else we did:

We had head-stand contests in honor of Dad!

Do you know any others with a tradition like that?

Makeshift beds were all over the floor,

In the bedrooms, the family room, the trailer, and more.

The kids snuggled up, worn out and yawning,

Excited to see what would come in the morning.

And the morning! My word, you never saw such a sight

As the wrapping paper flew in the dawn's early light!

And the smiles on the faces and the love all around

Were just part of the blessings that were there to be found.

After breakfast the kids played with their toys

Or went outside to wear off their excitement and joy.

Then the big "kids" would gather around the table

To play the big kid games, if they were able.

Taboo, Balderdash, Trivial Pursuit, to name a few,

Competition was fierce between me and you!

There were years when appearances were made

By Mom's fudge and divinity, two things I wouldn't trade

For anyone else's, no matter how good,

For Mom's recipes date back to her own childhood

And probably further (Aunt Maurine would know);

The fudge so rich and the divinity like snow.

In the late afternoon as the sun went down

It was time to head back to my own little town.

With hugs all around and gratitude, too,

Another Christmas was gone; the time always flew.

The decades went by and the children got grown

And had spouses and children and traditions of their own.

So things are different now, but though my eyes may be wet

All those years, all those Christmases, I'll never forget.

I love all of you.