For Those Who Are Ledger Bound

I’ve made many mistakes,
Thousands, if not tens of.
Some were planned, others
Accidental, still others  
Unaware, I’m sure.

Oh, I’ve done things right as well,
Probably not quite
As many as wrong.

Still and all, I’m liked just,
The same.

Don’t bother me then with the
Accounting of my
Balance, because
For all its proposed worth
My friend,

Tally, I will not. 


Susan Patterson

Ah, this is a poem for those of us who feel guilty about everything that goes wrong in our lives.  I am one of those people.  Yep,  me and Jesus (no disrespect intended) can carry the weight of the world.  But, as I grew older and possibly wiser, I have come to realize that not everything is my fault and even that not everything can be made better by my efforts.  So, I am giving it a good solid effort to not be too concerned about mistakes or mishaps.  I hope the same for you.  ☺ skp

I think I've just saved you a little work!  If you subscribed to The Causerie on the Welcome page, I've set it up so that my blog (or most of it if it's a long one) will go directly to your email.  That way you won't have to visit the web site each time there is something new. If the post is long, or if you have any trouble listening to the audio, it's all there at The Causerie with handy access through a link at the top of the email. (In The Causerie, you can also look into the archives and see additional postings and poetry.)  If you particularly like the email and the poetry, you can easily forward it to a friend, Like it on Facebook, Tweet about it on Twitter, Pin it on Pinterest, or +1 it on Google. Mostly, however, I want you to enjoy The Causerie.  Let me know what works for you!  Thanks.   

Please allow me to introduce you to the works of Melissa Gannon, Fine Artist.  http://www.melissagannon.com/     I have known Melissa for years and have several pieces of her artistry in my home.  She also has done work for the Earlene Grey company, designing cards and prints  around my poetry.  Melissa began her work with water color, but her talents have grown to include acrylic, colored pencil and mixed media.  Her choice of color and the depth of the color in her paintings is more than stunning.  Please take a look at her web site and enjoy her brilliance.  skp

▶ Yesterday is but a memory,  a lovely vision or a vital lesson.  The choice is yours.    Earlene Grey

À bientôt! 

Just in Case You Didn’t Know

My connection to you has been
Life changing.  Mine, possibly yours.  
You know who you are.  
You and
You
And
Most certainly,
You.  

You have made me better.  
Safer.  
Stronger.  
Have I made you thus?  
If not, then, it is only a lapse in my
Knowledge of how to do so.  
For my intention is
To honor you the same as
You have honored me.  

Life changing… 
No other words for it.     


Susan Patterson

This poem could have been written about a lot of people or groups of people in my life.  It might be the same as in your life.  There are so very many who make a life difference and don't even know it.  No, I am not going to tell you to go out there and tell each person what a difference they have made in your life.  But it is interesting to think about the cause and affect of our personalities among those with whom we come in contact, and, in a larger format, the world.   skp

▶ To be victorious over mediocrity, one must conquer the desire of the indolent and the call of the convenient.   Earlene Grey

Till next time!  skp

When You Want to Know

It is not easy to understand
The quiet person.
Their secrets are not out in front
For all to see and hear.

To learn what a quiet person knows,
You have to ask and ask again.
Then take them to tea,
And ask again persistently.

But once they tell, it all makes sense.
“Oh!”, you say, “I was so dense,
Mrs. Quiet is such a marvel.
She knows so much. And she sees so far.”

To be part of society, quiet people
Learn to be loud, to be noisy.
It is not fun, nor is it easy. For them
Being quiet is being genuine, exquisitely.

So when you want to know-
Trust a quiet person.
Then just ask. Ask again,
And then be sure to listen.

Susan Patterson

This is a favorite poem among my audiences.  Every time I read it, it brings out the emotions in my listeners.  Roughly half our population are quiet people.  So, you either are, or you know some one who is a quiet person.  Quiet people are those who need solitude once in awhile to revive themselves and to recoup energy.  They are not necessarily shy, nor are they awkward in public.  Quiet people simply get drained by being around others too long and too often. 

I would say quiet people tend to be more reserved; less likely to share everything that they know or what they think about.   In this world where where so very much is made public, whether it should be or not, it may be valuable to consider the ways of the quiet person.  We might want to pull back a little, not shout our secrets out to the world, and certainly not shout out the secrets of anyone else either.  skp

It's not too late to come and visit!  The Open Studios of Beavercreek, ( in Oregon), is going strong. We will be open Saturday, June 22nd and Sunday, June 23rd. This the tenth anniversary of the event and people around here don't miss it.  There are 24 artists at 14 stops.  You can enjoy a drive in the country, visit the studios of the artists in the area and get wonderful prices on exceptional art.  Simply go to the website, download a map and you can get started.  We would love to see you!  Below is a picture of the studio stop at the Patterson grounds.  Come and have Susan Patterson read you poetry in person!  http://openstudiosofbeavercreek.blogspot.com/

Cheery-bye! 

The Year of the Lord, Twenty Thirteen

We’re cut and bleeding
Angry and spent.
The old and the young
Weep because they know better.
Women wail because of what
Their issue has
Brought forth.  All labor
Seems for naught.  
Some simply
Do not, others sadly,
Cannot learn.  

We’ve tried so many times,  
After every war
After each victory,
Each defeat.  
We’ve always started and stopped
In some qualified manner or another.   

But yet,
And still, we advance.
Often imperceptibly,
A quarter of an inch, here or there.
Not this time.

Now,
The unearthed anguish,
The shocked sobs,
The great collective cry
Is moving us forward.
Again.

This time, this time
We’re taking
Bigger steps.  


Susan Patterson

I wrote this poem just after the Sandy Hook School shooting where 20 children and 8 adults were killed, including the shooter and his mother.  Even though there has been tragedies and atrocities across the world in the last several decades, that one seemed to hit us hard in the United States.  As well it should.  It was right before Christmas in 2012.  It was school children and their teachers that were killed.  It was in a peaceful little town. 

I thought that the setting and the targets would be enough for us to do something about violence and gun control.  I thought surely this time something will be done.  Surely this time we, as a society, will take big steps forward towards a more civilized and peaceful world.  It is June 2013 and I don't see that much as been done.  Maybe the steps are so small that they are not noticeable.  Maybe many small steps will make big steps later on. 

As the poem says, I think that we are tired of wars and violence.  And it seems that after every major episode of violence, we say "This is it!"  We're going to do better.  And, I think that we are doing better.  We do not draw and quarter people any more.  There is that.  But still,  we must make bigger strides.  We must do more to change our human society to one that does not revert to violence at every turn.  Can we not stop the aggression?  Can we not stop the hatred?  Can we move to a higher level of humanity?  Surely it is time.  skp

When I started this blog, I promised my husband that I would not post any cute cat pictures or the like.  I will not…for the most part.  We have four cats, Becky, Alice, Charley, and Eddie.  We also have day care kitties, Dewey and Louie, that belong to our neighbor.  (There was a Hughey, but he was hit by a car and so my neighbor brought the two remaining brothers, Dewey and Louie, to our safe neighborhood.)  So, there are often six of the  felines running around our house.  We are not crazy cat people.  They just all needed a good home.  (More later on that.)  Needless to say, we know cats.  When a friend sent me this link, I laughed and laughed.  I share it with you and after the seriousness of the poem today, I think that we can all use a good laugh.  http://zefrank.tumblr.com/post/50027982694/the-diary-of-a-sad-cat   

It is possible that I will start a cat series.  There is a Causerie for spotlighting artists, tidbits, and one for tea.  What is that?  Do I hear a loud cry, 'Oh, my God!  No!'   Well, we shall see. 

Hoping for a more peaceful world very soon,  skp

Ode to the Summer Sun

I opened the door and peeked out.
‘My God! What is that?’  
It’s only June!  Already the sun is
Here in full force.  

Bolt the doors, shutter the windows.  
Soon it will be too hot to bear.  
Hell has come to us in no uncertain terms.

When and if I go outside,
My eyes will squint shut.  
My skin will burn. Water will come out of
Places of my body that
I do not wish it to.  

Now that the sun is shining bright,
Children will frolic in the open air.
They will have to be managed.  

Workers will pound.  
Machines will whir. Odd music will intrude.   
All those sounds will have to be blocked,
Or muffled, at the very least.

It is all going to be overwhelming.
How is one to bear up under this
Season that Hades has delivered?  
I tell you, I can only grieve for our
Well-sprinkled earth as it follows
That orb of poachery.  


Susan Patterson

Just when you thought I was a nice person, I come out with a poem like this!  Well, we all have our moments.  Mine come with noisy neighbors and loud twangy country music.  Sorry about that, all you country western fans out there.   Don't even get me started on leaf blowers, pressure washers and weed eaters.  Oh dear!  Sorry again, this time  to all you fastidious gardeners. 

This poem is about the eccentricities that lie in all of us.  What some people cannot live without and travel the seasons to follow, others run from because of the uproar that summer can bring.  Some of you will laugh and totally agree with my sentiments.  Others will say, "What a snob of a woman!"  Most of you will be, correctly, somewhere in between. 

Let us celebrate with acceptance and tolerance our differences.  Let us learn to be patient with the noisy and let us learn to be understanding with the quiet.  skp

Speaking of tolerance, we need to give a round of applause to the husbands out there with wives who love dishes.  My husband is one of them.  I have five sets of dishes, three tea sets and Fostoria.  I know, I know, it is a sickness.  But allow me to get to the point.  My dishes are washed by hand.  It is my choice.  What works to get out tea stains and the like from those white cups?  Astonish tea and coffee stain remover.  www.astonishcleaners.com/‎  

In addition, the Astonish stain remover bar is the best I've used for getting just about any type of stain out of clothing.  It is not always as tidy as a spray bottle, but treating the stain with a bar is far more effective.  Now, enough of the household hints. 

Next posting I will give you something that might be more intellectual and cultural, but then again, maybe not.  ;-)  skp

Cheery bye! 

There’s More Than Enough

And you’re welcome to have some. 
All you need in fact. Go ahead. 
There’s plenty of health and safety.
Even enough time and money. 
Not to mention art, beauty, knowledge,
Wisdom and peace. 
There’s just plenty to go around.
So take what you need,
Use it often and use it well,
Say thank you of course, 
And then be sure to share.   

Susan Patterson

Not many people believe there is enough.  And we have reason for that.  Groups and individuals alike, are starving, some without enough water too.  Millions have no home in which to live.  I won't even go into mentioning those who do not have enough money for medication, education or even the bare necessities.  But like the spiritualist and writer, Marianne Williamson says, we make decisions based on fear and poverty, or conversely, we make decisions based on love and abundance.  Too often decisions, either personally or globally, are based on fear and poverty. 

I'm here to say that if we start thinking differently and look at our abundance differently there would be enough.  Of everything.  No, I'm not a socialist or communist.  I do not believe that government should take control of people's choices.  But I do think it is time to look at our collective lives through a new prism.  This poem is self explanatory. 

Where are you located?  As you may know,  I cannot determine the home country, state or town of my readers.  But I am curious.  I want to know.  The knowledge of where my readers are will give me a better idea of what material to put in Causerie.  I think that I have readers in Europe, Asia and even in the Mid East.  Is that true?  Would you be willing to list your location on the comment section of this Causerie or email to me Susan@EarleneGrey.com  Thank you!  skp

This is a very enjoyable video sent to me by my friend, Maria.  She is a lover of art 
spanning the spectrum of ancient, classic and abstract.  Not only does Maria appreciate art, but she applies her knowledge and considerable talent to every aspect in her life.   

The Rijksmuseum in Holland had an idea: Let's bring the art to the people and then, hopefully, they will come to see more - at the museum.

They took one painting of Rembrandt from 1642 , Guards of the Night and  brought to life the characters in it, placed them in a busy mall and the rest you can see for yourself!  
 
http://www.youtube.com/embed/a6W2ZMpsxhg?feature=player_embedded

Abundance to you and yours.  skp

The Risk of the Heedless

I had waited for days.
For the time
When we would talk and touch. 
I waited with intelligence and sophistication.
Then it was down to hours.

We would be off together for a mid-day meal.
I was eager. 
An amorous hour was my intention. 

We left, appearing nonchalant.
But he was busy with things to do. 
Then it was over,
Our precious time. 

We headed back. My disappointment cut. 
We climbed up the old stairs to the world
Where we were not known as one.

Following him like a besotted fluff,
I forgot my sophistication and whined
My letdown. 
He turned, as all heroes do,
Grabbed and kissed me
Right there on the stairs. 

Forbidden love. 

He could have had me on the stairs
For all I cared.  I was limp as a dishrag. 
It’s true. 
It was
Worth the wait.
But then,
Would it be so again?
The risk was his.   


Susan Patterson

This poem is the part of a love story.  The hero, though intelligent, is so caught up in his own world that he almost misses his chance.  The heroine, though intelligent, will not speak up for herself until it is almost too late.  This story is not unlike many love stories, two people blending their egos, talents and dreams, only to be controlled by inhibitions and fears.  We don't know how the love story continues.  It seems he was at risk of loosing her.  However, she too, might have been at risk of loosing herself.  skp

▶  Marry  someone who drinks tea and you will marry an honorable person.         ~Earlene Grey~

Today I would like to introduce you to Marilyn Woods, ceramic artist and painter.  You will find Marilyn's work at her Woods Hill Studio in Oregon City, OR and online at  www.woodshillstudio.com. 

Marilyn's artistry is contemporary of design and I am addicted to it.  She has been developing her skills for a life time.  I have many of her pieces and they give me joy every time I look at them.  Marilyn is particularly adept at torso figures.  Many of her pottery pieces can be placed outdoors as well as in the home.  As for me, however, I cherish them far to greatly to chance them to our capricious Oregon weather. 

Within the last several years, Marilyn has branched out to acrylics, creating beautiful free form drawings that bring  out emotion and thought at the same time.   She is absolutely one of my favorite artists. You can buy her work on line as well as from her studio and various galleries.  I encourage you to take a look.   skp

Till next time.  skp

This poem, from the book, Heart to Heart-Considered Sentiments for Teatime, www.EarleneGrey.com  is a commentary on the use of underhanded means to accomplish a purpose.  Well, maybe it is not a commentary so much as an opinion.  But, I do think that on occasion our world leans more to trickery in one way or another, than to honesty.  The other point is that it is grace and all that grace entails that gives us an edge in matters of the heart and yes, of the purse.  What we don't often see is that grace, and the value thereof, may take longer to realize than trickery.  Sometimes generations.  But, oh my, isn't it worth it?  skp

Several of my readers have kindly commented about certain postings.  I have replied.  You will note, however, that at times my replies are addressed to the wrong person.  Ah, well.  Not everything is crystal clear to me.  Such was, and may still be, the process of blogging.  I think that have I figured it out-- replies to comments that is.  So, if you are inclined to share your opinion, tell me I'm full of beans, or talk about your own life, you are more than welcome to do so.  I will reply and now, I think that I will do it correctly.  skp

Radio Kinver is a podcast produced in Kinver, England by Edmund Marshall Preston.  This is a weekly variety-request show where Edmund plays all sorts of music from classics of the 30s and 40s, to sharp contemporary pieces, to country and classical.  Also included is opera, poetry and an occasional essay.   Most of the pieces that he plays are requests which come from every continent in the world.  Edmund has thousands of listeners.   And why not, he has been presenting this weekly show since February 28, 2006.  My goodness!  What an impressive achievement! 

It has been my privilege for the past four years to read my poetry on this beloved podcast.  It is mind boggling to me that the words that "come in the night" as I say, reaches so many people.  This year, Edmund and some of his advisers put together a little birthday salute for me, which aired May 31st.  I tell you this, not to drag out my birthday, but to give you a sense of the quality of the show.  Following is a song that they recorded for my birthday. 

Happy Birthday Susan, was sung by Rheinhardt, Lotte and Klara from Germany.   Also performing were  Mike and  Natasha and their six year old daughter, Mira, from Colorado.  Harald and Signe from Oslo, and numerous other listener friends of Rheinhardt in Stuttgart participated as well.  It was written based on the Palestrina chant 'Sicut Cervus' and performed as a round.  How cool is that?  What an extraordinary and generous gift! 

I want to take this opportunity to say a huge and heartfelt thank you to Rheinhardt for producing the song.  I was stunned at the effort and the outcome.  The singing is more than beautiful, it is sublime.  

I invite you to give Radio Kinver a try,  www.RadioKinver.co.uk    I think that you would find it unique and refreshing.  There is something for everyone on Edmund's show and it is certainly a diversion from the average entertainment available today.  But wait, there's more, the good thing about a podcast is that you can download it on to your computer and listen at your convenience.   Happy listening!  skp

Whew, this has been a long Causerie!  Next Saturday's will be shorter.  😉    Once again, thank you for reading Causerie.   I appreciate your loyalty and for spreading the word.  skp

À bientôt!

A Decision Not to Know

Sometimes I am defined by what I do,
Trying to make what I do, into who I am.
Yet spinning about so from one to another me
Weakens the mind and binds the soul.

Sometimes, who one is has to be said
And then it must be owned.
But who is to say what and why and when?

Is it for me to say and be and then to do?
Or shall I just do and then I will be?
I truly haven’t a clue.

Well then, what?
‘Have tea!’  I say to those who query.
And leave me quietly and respectfully be!

Amen.


Susan Patterson

This poem is a favorite of my husband.  He requested it for today's Causerie.  I wrote it early in 2005, or maybe before.  It was around the time when I was doing a great deal in the business world.  I've always been an active sort, but in those years, just around retirement, I started to seriously take notice of how I was feeling with the work I was doing.  It was not good.  Too much was just too much.  So, this poem came forth.  Its meaning?  Doing too much often weakens a person, both in body and in soul.  Then what?  Relax.  Be easy on yourself.  Tell the rest of the world to do the same.  As I was reminded recently, we are human beings, not human doings.  Thank you for reading.  skp

This is the first of an occasional series for Causerie.  Every once in awhile, I will talk about tea.  As most of you know, my husband and I are serious tea drinkers.  Coffee has never been a part of our lives. The first two books I wrote have significant references to the enjoyment of tea.   Tea continues to be served all day at my house.  I am somewhat addicted to it.  There you go.

Speaking of the enjoyment of tea.  Some people are desperate, even in their naiveté.  I have a friend who asked to remain nameless if I wrote about her on Causerie.  I will respect that, but for this story, I will call her Charlotte.   Allow me to tell you about Charlotte's recent discovery of the marvelous taste of tea, albeit, I would say, from her somewhat clueless perspective. 

My husband and I have a Christmas party every year.  We give away little gifts to our guests.  Last year we gave tea and chocolate.  Charlotte recently found a bag of tea that she was given at last year's party.  She thought, 'What the heck.',  she would try it.  So, she put the bag in water and blasted it in the microwave.   A very big no-no in the world of tea.  I was aghast!  But, oh my, Charlotte so enjoyed the tea!  Yes, I grimaced, wondering to myself if it had steeped the right time, did the microwave boil out all the oxygen from the water, did it taste funny?  Incredulous, I thought, how could she possibly like it?  Charlotte clearly did not get the nuances of tea.  For shame!

But then, her story became even more distressing!  Charlotte told me, the next day she took the bag off the counter and made tea with it again.  My God!  Has she no taste at all? 'Probably not.' I thought.  Yet, Charlotte still loved the tea.  'It tasted wonderful.' she said, glowing with the fond remembrance of the soothing cuppa.  At this point my mouth gaped open in disbelief.  I was shocked and appalled.  I asked her how could she like it?  Wasn't it bitter?  Didn't the tannins taste?  Wasn't it stale?  Nope, she thought it was the best tea ever. Well, each to her own.  Charlotte, a very sharp woman, is a good friend, with a sense of humor and I appreciate her telling me the story. 

For me, I will boil filtered water, heat the right pot, put the tea in a large tea strainer, steep it three minutes and then drink it out of a china cup.  That's the way.  I know.  I am a snob.  Sorry.  Oh, the tea that I gave her?  Lord Bergamot from Steven Smith Teamaker,  www.smithtea.com  And further, I'm drinking a pot of it as I write this Causerie.  But with fresh bags, of course!   Love it.   skp

Cheery-bye!