Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

August 25, 2007

Publishers Favourite Sites:

Rosanne Catalano

http://www.rosannecatalano.net/

Michael Smith

http://subs.zinester.com/86758/

Barbara Weymouth

penwormprayerwarriors-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

Helen Dowd

www.occupytillicome.com

Dean Perchick

http://symzonia.blogspot.com

Today’s Announcements

Happy birthday Peggy Kemp:  daine1945@aol.com  Peggy has been quite ill recently and would appreciate some cards to cheer her up.

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Today’s Stories

~**~**~

Big Bro Dave

Peggy Ann Doak

I know that in my writings up til now, about my family, I have not shared with you about my Big Brother from Southern California.  Mostly because I rarely see him.  But also because it causes me great sadness to talk about him.

    We were very close as children. Our parents met on Mount Desert Island.  Our dad was returning from Viet Nam with a bad case of syphilis, and he met our mom one night when she was hitchhiking home from Stinsons Canning Company.  That is where the sardines are packed here, in those little cans.  Women cut them up.  Men go catch them first.

     Dad said it was love at first smell.  He had pulled his sixty-four Chevy off into a picnic area somewhere between Bass Harbor and Seal Harbour.    It was in December and the tables were in storage.  Dad was hungry and didn't have any money so when he saw the international sign for picnic area; people sitting at a picnic table; he thought perhaps he could beg a scrap or two.  Having spent the past 11 months in Viet Nam, his sense of seasons and reason had left.  He had only sensory impulse to go on to stay alive.   That was when he smelled fish.

    "Awe twaz the bonniest smell in the world right then.  Fresh Maine Fish.  He sat on the hood of his car, the only part showing above a snowdrift he had parked in, and lifted his nose to the moon. If you want to smell fish, you have to do this.  It's called the Boolya Moon by natives.  Sure enough it was coming from the same direction as the sound of clomp, slip, suction, 'swear word' clomp, slip, suction, 'swear word.'    In fact the rhythm was quite catchy.  Dad ran out to the road, wearing only his red ball high top sneakers, jeans and a Hawaiian shirt.  Mom said he looked like a rabid Deer with poor taste in clothing.  She said his blue eyes were big, but his nostrils were even bigger.  And he kept snorting.

      "Hello" Dad yelled.

       "Who or I should say, what are you?" Mom wasn't too concerned.  She had been sick with the dengue fever for eighteen months now, and had lost most of her family and friends.  There were only two women canning fish and they had to do inventory and keep the machines running also.  The one fisherman was so old he was dead, but he kept bringing more herring in to be cut up and packed, sauced and cooked.  The island didn't have much more than that for income.  Mom had seen it all and she figured that our to be father was simply another rampant fever incident.  Besides that, she was just plain tired.  No cars had come for her to hitch a ride.  So maybe this guy had one.

         "Do you have fish on you?"

          'Do you have a car?"

          'I do"

           'I do"

          Well outa the woods walked Reverend Hooligan.  "I now pronounce you man and wife.  You may drive the car while eating sardines.  Awe ’tis a match made by angels"    The Reverend was never seen again.  Some say he never existed.  But how could they be married if he hadn't existed. They didn't have a marriage certificate, but what is paper between a man and woman in love?  Plus, if they did have a marriage certificate, well, it would be known that Dad had syphilis, and we would never have been born.  Me and my brother Davie.

           Amazingly enough, the Reverend sent a wind that blew the snow off the car and in they got and off they drove.  Because the town was near empty due to the Dengue Fever, so they had their pick of Honey Moon Suites.  All that was lacking was heat and water and electricity.  But once again, the angels were with them, for they found a lovely room at the Bar Harbor Inn that was heated, had water and electricity and could you believe it.  Television!

         Mom clomped, slid, got stuck and pulled her hip boots out of the snow with a deep sucking noise.  She wore flannel pajamas, as it was too much work to get undressed and dressed again every day.  Her hair was missing in patches due to the fever, and she had spots all over her face, some of them runny; Oh but dad said, "Aye, she was the most beautiful lass I'd seen since, since...well you know."  We didn't but we didn't want to let him know that we didn't.  

         Dad had his own style of open runny sores, and few teeth remained in his head.  But then again, he fit right in, in the state of Maine.  That night Davie was conceived.  Mom said she heard a shriek like the doors of Heaven and Hell had opened simultaneously to allow that soul to be conceived.

          Mom lived through the horrible fever that took out ninety five percent of the year round residents of Mount Desert Island Maine.  Some say that the wealthy and corrupt folks had planted the fever in the drinking water just before the last one left.  Said they were tired of putting up with low grades and poor folk.  Could be true.  Might not be either.  It's an awful accusation.

            Dad declined as fast as Mom got well.  Now a lot of our family got syphilis after dad came home from the war.   Davie, bless his heart, thinks that syphilis comes from dirty toilet seats.  At first I tried to enlighten him that two people had to have sexual contact for syphilis to spread.  But I could seem from his red face and his ears flapping back and forth as he shook his head violently, 'NO!'  We really didn't know whether he was saying no, or having a seizure, but bottom line, he was gonna put an eye out with those ears.  He just didn't want to know that dear old dad couldn't keep his pants on.  But he did try to keep it in the family.

            Davie was named after dad and his dad and his ....well....you know how it goes with the Scots Irish and their imaginations...not.  In our grand pappy's house there were three boys named David, each with a different middle initial with no middle name attached.  I was named for my great great grandmother Pearl.  Peggy stands for Pearl.  It means we irritate people so much, that all the bad goo that gets on us eventually turns into a priceless gem.  Works for oysters.  I think it got my great, great grandmother Pearl burned as a witch without a hex. 

          I was born eleven months after Davie, so we were not too far apart.  Mom was doing pretty good by then and she had started to write historical novels about the coast of Maine.  One of them, so says my big brother, is still at the library in Bar Harbour, called, Living With Dengue Fever and Syph."   Davie thinks that Syph is short for one of our aunt’s names.  I tried to tell him different. But he started shaking his head again and nearly clocked me off my bed with one of those ears.  We had to share a room cause even though mom was making money from writing, dad was leaking himself all over the place, and work just wasn't in the picture.  Our mother's name was Jane.  I mean, how plain.

       When it came time for school for Davie, he clung to my mother's skirts so hard that he pulled them right off in the school yard.  Well mom just picked up Davie under one arm and her skirts under the other and walked into the school, down to the bathroom, took out a big syringe and stabbed him with it.  Pure alcohol.  Hospital grade.  Almost two hundred proof.  He started laughing, she put her skirts back on and sent him on his way.  After that Davie pretty much became a drunk until he joined AA twenty or so years later.  He also had to be treated for syphilis, and it was taken care of, except for all the missing brain cells from the venereal disease AND alcoholism.  So he never was too bright.  That is why he is a senator, perhaps our next president.  To be anounced.

     Me, I just like sitting here with my dogs, writing to people on Gather.com.  I do wish Davie would send me a bit of money now and again.  But he is also tight as a tick.  Mom died ten years after dad.  Davie said it was from a broken heart.  I said, "You think so? After ten years and how many flings?"

       He just could never deal with what was real.  So the white house gets him.  But I love him. I do. He's my Big Bro Dave.

Peggy Ann Doak

pdoak333@peoplepc.com

~**~**~

OLD PHOTOGRAPHS

By: Joseph J. Mazzella

    Every now and then God clears our vision and lets us see a glimpse of Heaven while still here on Earth. My own eyes got opened for me the other day while I was looking through some old photo albums. I was never very good at sorting pictures so they were pretty mixed up. Some had been taken a few years ago, some were of my children as babies, and some old, family ones were taken up to 70 years ago. Each one of them, however, contained a precious moment frozen in time. As I looked through them too I noticed something very wonderful. It seemed that the happier the person was in the picture, the more the light shined from their eyes. I could see this pure, radiant, and loving light in picture after picture no matter how long ago it was taken. With every smiling face there were a pair of shining eyes sending their joy across the years and into my heart. It was then that I realized that God was giving me a glimpse through the window to the Heavenly soul in each person. This was who they really were. Each photo was of a Child of God: full of love, full of joy, and full of light. I knew too that even though those pictures would one day fade that those souls would shine on forever.

     I am still thanking God for that little glimpse of Heaven. I am keeping it close to my heart, mind, and soul. I want to remember it not just every time I look at a photograph but also every time I am tempted to judge another. Only God knows the depths of our souls and only God can see the light within each of us.

     God loves us so much. We are His Children and He put us here to help each other to grow in love, joy, light, and wonderful oneness with Him. Let’s embrace our birthright then. Let’s be the best Children of God that we can be. Let’s shine our light in our photos and in our lives. Let’s make each of our days a beautiful picture by loving, helping, and giving joy to each other.

Joe Mazzella

 joecool@wirefire.com

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

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 Have Faith in God

David Fox

God is always here

He stays here by our side

He'll never, ever leave us

He'll be there as our guide.

So take life slowly,

Live it day by day,

and know if you ever get lost

God will lead the way.

David Fox

davidirafox@yahoo.com

~**~**~

The Power of Prayer

David Fox

When you pray to the Lord

You'll see he's as accessible

as s scepter or sword

Use Him as a symbol of prayer

To guide you through every hour

Listen to what he has to say

Each and every time you pray.

David Fox

davidirafox@yahoo.com

 ~**~**~

 God and Us

David Fox

He doesn't want money

nor does He want fame

All He asks is that we praise His name

The best thing to do is bless Him

and try not to second guess Him

The rich, the poor, the fancy, the plain,

Are all loved by Him the same.

So take your time to do your part

and you'll have a special place in Your heart.

David Fox

davidirafox@yahoo.com

~**~**~

Readers Feedback

Magnificent Creative Life Force - That was an eye-opener for me. Thanks for sharing it!
Constance

I especially loved the piece written by Jan.  Please let her know that Janice Marler  appreciated the moment.

Hugs

Janice

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