A Potpourri Of Pipsqueaks & Problems & Poems, Oh My

/ Ally Bean

The Pipsqueak Part – So Much Energy, I Had To Laugh

In the mornings after I wake up my ritual is to brew a pot of coffee, pour myself a mug of the stuff, and [when possible] go outside to drink it whilst gazing upon nature, absorbing the stillness of morning.

Being at one with the universe, dagnabbit.

However the other morning at about 7:20 am, as I’m communing with nature sitting on the deck at the back of our house, I hear noise. It’s a loud unfamiliar sound coming from the front of the house.

What am I hearing?

It’s the kids, the little twerps, kindergartners mostly, in front of our house waiting for the school bus to pick them up. And they are all howling like wolf pups, loudly, with gusto.

Which has prompted neighborhood dogs in backyards, like Irene [Great Dane], and Cookie [Dalmatian], and Rocco [Beagle-ish pound puppy] to join in with the little human wolf puppies, howling louder than the kids.

Creating a glorious cacophony, that while unexpected, got me laughing so hard I almost spilled the coffee in my mug.

And that would never do.

The Problem Part – In Which We Mourn A Loss 

After 12 years of service our furnace died. We knew the end was coming but buying a new one isn’t exactly the most exciting use of money. Nonetheless with a loud *sigh* we got a new one.

The new furnace, like its predecessor, is in our unfinished basement. The installation took most of a day and went smoothly under the auspices of a guy I shall call Jake. He was quiet, knowledge, and seemed to have endless energy.

Welp, once the furnace was hooked up Jake had us follow him into the basement so he could explain the new furnace, as in parts and filters, and to show us the new sticker with his name on it saying that he’d installed the furnace.

Every time a maintenance tech comes to service the furnace they leave their initials on the official permanent sticker that starts with the name of the guy who installed it.

Very organized.

But here’s the thing, the unexpected turn in what we assumed would be a standard conversation with Jake, he got choked up when talking about putting his sticker on our furnace.

Come to find out 12 years ago Jake’s beloved mentor, Tom, had installed our old furnace placing his sticker on it. And, as Jake explained, seeing Tom’s writing on the old sticker reminded Jake that Tom had recently died.

Jake was visibly bereft about Tom’s passing, on the verge of tears. Thus while Zen-Den and I politely said things like “my condolences” and “I’m sorry for your loss” Jake stopped talking entirely. Then we three stood in front of our new furnace having an impromptu minute of silence in honor of Tom.

May he rest in peace.

The Poem Part – I Gave It A Try And Here Is What I Wrote

A couple of weeks ago Kari at a grace full life wrote a poem based on an “I Am From” template [HERE]. Then after sharing her poem she politely challenged us to write our own poems.

Challenge accepted!

Below is my poem, titled in the way that Kari did hers, created by following the prompts on the template, but written using my own punctuation because, really, the punctuation on the template makes no sense.

~ • ~

My “Where I’m From” Poem

I am from legal pads of yellow paper

From office supply stores and college book stores.

I am from the small house on a brick street

Comfy, well-tended, scented with bayberry candles.

I am from hickory nuts,

Purchased whole, shelled, and baked into a birthday cake.

I’m from artificial Christmas trees and frugality

From Daisy Alice and JW.

I’m from helpers and bookworms

From relatives who preached the gospel and taught school.

I’m from Methodists and Presbyterians, a family that went to church but didn’t take it too seriously.

I’m from Ohio and can look to Scotland, Wales, Ireland, and Germany to find my ancestors.

I’m from Garibaldi biscuits and strong black loose tea measured in metal tea balls,

From childhood afternoons with my stay-at-home dad who eschewed coffee for tea, always.

The people who came to the USA to farm, and to fight in wars, and to get an education,

Leaving but a few photos of themselves behind,

While handing down antique furniture, most unique.

~ ~ • ~ ~

225 thoughts on “A Potpourri Of Pipsqueaks & Problems & Poems, Oh My”

  2. There’s always a song, and do I have a good one for you. One of my favorite groups, the Flying Fish Sailors, have composed the perfect paean to coffee. Another of their suburban life classics is “Mow, Johnny, Mow.” They’re quirky, for sure.

    I smiled at a couple of references in your poem, like bayberry candles. I was raised Methodist, too, and have fond memories of our pastor and confirmation classes. But we never took it seriously enough for arguments over dogma predominated. When I think of my years in that church, it’s the hayrides, taffy pulls, and fund-raising pancake suppers that first come to mind. Good times.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Linda, that song is wonderful. I’ll be humming it all day long. Thanks for the link.

      My mother adored the scent of bayberry so she only bought those candles. Like you no one in my family argued over religious dogma, it was good enough that we usually went to church. I remember being a kid at hayrides and potluck casserole dinners and singing in the choirs. Innocent activities.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Interesting P post Ally Bean! I have some questions-

    Will you go out to the front and join in with the tots as they howl? It could be fun. It could also be another way to embrace your archetype wild woman of nature side.

    Will you ask for a different rep if service is needed on the furnace, thus allowing Jake to not be reminded and bothered once again by the memory of Tom?

    Are you going to start a poetry blog on the side? I quite enjoyed your “Where I’m From”

    Liked by 3 people

    • Deb, thanks for noticing the “P”ness of this post. I entertain myself in the silliest ways.

      I’m perfectly capable of howling like a wolf on my own, so I’ll let the kids do their thing by their cute little selves.

      Jake won’t be back because he only does installation, not servicing of furnace.

      I won’t be starting a poetry blog, but thanks for the compliment. I did this poem but it was outside my usual writing comfort zone.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I like your poem, though it left me wondering if I ever had hickory nuts and what they might taste like. The children/ canine cacophony would have made me spill my coffee for sure. Here it’s the coyotes singing along with the fire engine sirens in the dark. (They never sing with the police sirens; yes, even the coyotes in LA know about the cops.)

    Liked by 3 people

    • AutumnAshbough, hickory nuts taste like spicy pecans. They are RARE as in I haven’t had any in decades. My mother used to get them because she knew a guy, who knew a guy, who knew someone, who…

      I’m laughing about the coyotes howling with the fire engine sirens, not the cops. That’s hilarious.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. A most enjoyable post! Little kids are literally, a hoot! My brother in law drives school bus there. I wonder if that is part of his route. He loves the little ones❤️
    Poor Jake. I’m sure he has fond memories of Tom.
    Love the poem🥰 Your writing is so appealing. It tells a lot about your past.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Beth, ha! Well said, these little twerps were a hoot. I imagine whoever the bus driver was he or she got a chuckle out of it. I don’t know how you couldn’t laugh.

      The whole impromptu memorial to Tom in our basement was a new experience. I respect that Jake respected Tom… but things took a different turn than expected.

      Try writing a poem using the template. I bet you’d enjoy doing that. Just for yourself, to put into your journal perhaps? 🤔

      Like

  8. My condolences to Jake! So interesting that the furnace would trigger that response from him. When I first saw the leadup to the poem, in my head, I thought you would write an elegy to the old furnace and to Jake’s mentor. 😂😂 That’s how scenarios get built up in my head! But what you wrote is lovely.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Laurie, I did the poem for Kari, of course. I don’t generally lean into poetry but trying something different is good, too.

      So how ‘ya doing? Thinking about getting back into blogging? Miss you.

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      • Ally, I am doing great. Hubs and I just got back from 3.5 weeks in Portugal. I often think about topics I would like to write about and I still keep a running list of ideas, but the discipline required for blogging seems like more than I want to do right now. Missing the regular contact with other bloggers, though!

        Liked by 1 person

        • Portugal would be a great vacation. I’m glad you had the chance to go. I know what you mean about the discipline needed to keep blogging, believe me there are weeks I’m ready to quit. However I stay and should you return I’ll happily read whatever you want to write.

          Like

  11. I love “I am From…” poems. Thank you for sharing yours! Such a simple way of conveying so much. And I loved the tale of Tom and the moment you had to honor him – unexpected as it was. What a sweet slice of humanity to see how Jake was overcome and how dear of you and Zen-Den to be there, go along, and share that moment. But I’ve gotta add…the kids, the howling and the ‘anti-murdery juicy-juice’ meme stole my heart and gave me a giggle fit. Happy Tuesday, dear Ally! 🥰

    Liked by 2 people

    • Vicki, you’re right about what the “I Am From” poems do for a person. I told more about myself than usual in a succinct way.

      The situation with Jake honoring Tom… in our basement in front of a new furnace… was unique. However Z-D and I are polite older folks so we just waited, didn’t even roll our eyes at each other because clearly Jake was in mourning.

      Yep, I like the anti-murdery juicy-juice meme, too. It’s one of the best descriptions of coffee I’ve seen. ☕️

      Liked by 1 person

  12. A perfect potpourri of plentiful poetry plus! Phew… trying to be as alliterative as you were in your title 😉

    That said. I can just picture (the sound?) of the morning howl! Too fun.

    I love that impromptu moment of silence for Tom – especially in today’s world where you feel no one cares.

    And Oh! I have to say I LOVE your “I Am” poem and, of course, you’ve got me thinking how I would respond…

    Liked by 2 people

    • dale, those little kids caught me off guard but I loved the noise they started. The neighborhood dogs were really into which made me laugh all the more.

      Good point about the impromptu tribute to Tom. It was a spontaneous moment of caring.

      Try writing your own poem. I’m sure Kari would approve, I know I would. Using the prompts as guideposts worked for me. Who knows where you’ll end up.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Jenn, I was deeply entranced with being at one with nature, meditative even, so I didn’t get it at first about what was going on out front. But once I did, I couldn’t stop smiling. Talk about innocent fun!

      Liked by 1 person

  15. Well, I’m now inspired to make a cup of tea and just be for a few minutes–though it is far too wet/cold outside this morning to partake of nature. (I will, however, drink it out of a pretty teacup I brought home from England 5 years ago and sit in front of a window through which I am likely to see squirrels.) I would’ve loved hearing those kids and dogs howling. Kinders scared the bejesus out of me when I was the adult (supposedly) in charge of them, but they also delighted me.

    Your poem is a delight, too. It paints such a picture of who you are. Kind of rounds out the ideas I already had from being a reader here, so it’s congruous, I guess.

    Poor Jake.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Rita, when it’s too cold or wet outside I drink my morning coffee sitting inside looking out at nature. I need to feel grounded before I hit the day running. Of course, the howling kids & dogs were a new wrinkle in my morning, but oh so funny.

      I’m glad my poem resonated with you. I am who I am here, so it makes me happy that is coming across.

      Yes, about Jake. ‘Twas a moment like none other.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Mark, I’m impressed that your furnace is that old. As long as it works, I’m all about keeping things, but ours got ‘yellow-tagged’ which meant it was no longer safe to use. Yes, when the time comes I’ll be interested in knowing who your memorial service will be for. Talk about an unexpected moment.

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      • Not only that, our A/C unit is 30+ years old! We knew going in that all the mechanicals are near the end of their lifespan. We’re just hoping to get maybe another year or two out of them so we can plan for those big purchases.

        Liked by 2 people

            • As I understand it Lennox or Bryant are the best brands. The cost of the furnace is contingent on how sophisticated the blower part needs to be, meaning the size of your house, the number of floors, and the number of vents comes into play. Also you have to decide about gas versus electric. Getting to a point here, we got a Bryant gas furnace to heat a two-story 2500 square foot house for $10,600. Our A/C is fine so when it goes that’ll be an additional cost.

              Liked by 1 person

  18. I love the howling kids and dogs, and I love your poem. It’s inspiring me to think about writing a poem like that. Thank you.
    The furnace moment is very touching. Who would have guessed that a signature on a face furnace would be a moment of heartfelt remembrance.

    Liked by 2 people

      • Robin, I do that sometimes and it bugs me too. HOWEVER I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re all human and innocent mistakes are part of being alive. That being said, I’ll go edit your comment. 🤓

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    • Robin, the kids were delightful once I realized what was going on. Oh to have that much energy early in the morning.

      I’m not a poet by nature, so writing the poem was different for me, in a good way. If you follow the prompts the poem kind of writes itself.

      Yes, the memorial minute in front of the furnace was sweet, but unique.

      Like

  19. I laughed at anti-murdery juicy juice. So funny. I do NOT drink coffee and maybe that is what my life is missing. Perhaps I’d better manage the howls and loudness of the tots that I babysit. I kid. I’m so used to their loud antics, I barely notice it. Or I send them to the basement when they get too loud. I’ve seen the lines/prices at Starbucks and I’m perfectly happy to not be tied to a coffee dependency, although I do understand that people LOVE it.

    Tom must’ve been quite a guy to have Jake so moved by seeing his initials scrawled on your former furnace. That was sweet.

    Well done on the poem. I do love the idea of this – I read Kari’s version too, but I haven’t yet tried to tackle it.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Ernie, I make a pot of coffee at home and it costs a fraction of the price of what you spend at Starbucks. I don’t know how you can function without a jolt of caffeine in the morning, so impressed that you avoid the stuff.

      The situation with Jake about Tom was sweet and sincere. I couldn’t tell you a thing about Tom, I don’t remember him at all… but Jake I’ll always remember.

      Writing the poem was easier than I expected but still not my jam. I’m a storyteller.

      Like

      • Same here. I prefer story telling and if I start telling someone a story at a party but I don’t get to finish the story, I feel unsettled. Poetry isn’t really my thing, although I’ve done it. I do write a poke-fun, make-light-of all that we do Christmas recap poem in our Christmas card each year. I think that’s as far as my poetry muscle is willing to be flexed.

        No clue how I get by without coffee, but I’ve made it this far so I’m not going down that slippery slope. I guess my morning workout gives me my boost of energy.

        Liked by 1 person

        • I remember your poetic Christmas newsletter. I think that’s brilliant and fun, but that’d be about all the poetry writing I’d want to do in a year, too.

          Morning workouts are the sort of thing that’d nudge me into wanting more coffee. 😜

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    • I laughed at the fantastic memes, too, and fully expected a coffee-related line in the poem, something maybe like

      I am from a perky potion that pampers your palate and pleases perusing people (yes, that’s an attempt at a homage to your great title…) 🤪

      Liked by 2 people

  20. I love this post. The story about the littles howling with the dogs had me laughing out loud. The story about Jake choked me up a little until I pictured the three of you with a moment of silence around the furnace. Your poem is lovely. And yes, a furnace or a roof are the least fun ways to spend a lot of money.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Pat, those kids made my day. I love how they got the dogs in on it. The moment for Tom was out of the blue, but Jake was clearly bereft so we waited.

      You said it about furnaces and roofs. Buying them is no fun, granted they’re useful, but honestly… 😣

      Like

  21. I love your poem. 💛

    I understand about the howling, although my experience is different. When living in the north, one has to get used to the fact that lots of people keep sled dogs. They might even be your neighbours. It’s generally not much of an issue, except that lots of things set them off to howling, especially at night. So this is a common auditory experience and not something one just hears at Halloween or school bus stops. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • Lynette, oh that is fascinating and makes sense. Of course in the far north you’d hear sled dogs howling. Around here, obviously, we have domesticated dogs that are goofballs who’ll join in with the kids and voilà it’s a racket like none other.

      Liked by 1 person

  23. May Tom RIP. Nothing like a basement service. I hope that added some sacred value to spending the money on a new furnace.

    I’m howling about the kids and the dogs whooping it up. Hilarious. I can attest first hand that kids and dogs equal chaos. So glad you found the humor in it.

    Love the poem. “While handing down antique furniture, most unique.” – Great last line.

    Happy Tuesday, Ally! Aaah-whooo.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Wynne, yes, you’re right, our new furnace is now a sacred place in our home, even more than its ability to keep us warm. And who’d have envisioned that?

      Once I figured out what the noise was about I was completely charmed. I don’t know if the little twerps knew the dogs would howl with them, but probably. Too funny.

      Happy Tuesday to you, too. Glad the poem landed with you.

      Liked by 1 person

  24. We got the furnace replaced last year. It was not an easy task for the installers because of the new type of exhaust system on the higher efficiency furnaces that our government insists we use!
    I enjoyed your poem. You must have been pleased with how much of your life you were able to capture!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Margy, no one mentioned anything about our exhaust system and the new furnace was described as higher efficiency, so I guess it all went together without issue. Maybe the age of houses has something to do with it? A guess.

      Writing a poem isn’t my thing but by following the prompts I did okay. Not going to make poetry my life though.

      Liked by 1 person

  25. Twelve years doesn’t seem like very long for a furnace. I know they don’t make ’em like they used to, but I expect 20 years, at least. We’ve had good luck with furnaces (knock on metal). And very poor luck with washing machines.

    I love, love, love your poem. Such a great way to get to know someone. I don’t think I’ve ever had a hickory nut or a Garibaldi biscuit. Your dad was a SAHD? That is unusual for our generation. Yes, that area of Ohio is definitely those ancestors. However, for some reason, I picture only real Christmas trees in homes in rural areas. I have no idea why.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Bijoux, furnaces are sold to last for 12-14 years so ours was right on target. I don’t know much more about their longevity than that. I do know they’re darned expensive.

      Hickory nuts taste like spicy pecans and are more prevalent in the south. I haven’t had any in years. Garibaldi biscuits are available in specialty grocery stores, they’re kind of like a flattened Fig Newton.

      My dad was older when I was born. He was pretty much retired by then, so he looked after me while my mother worked. As for the artificial Christmas tree, my mother wasn’t a fan of decorating for the holidays, so this was easier.

      Like

    • Susan, what a perfect slogan: More expresso, less depresso. Hear, hear!

      I followed the prompts on the template for the poem. Otherwise I’d have written nothing. Poetry isn’t my bailiwick.

      Like

  28. I love your poem, and I love all the directions it leads the mind. We are the product of so much.

    My daughter is a howler. While I appreciate the call of the wild that lurks inside us all, though to varying degrees, I am not a huge fan of her howling in the car which hurts my ears. And I am (perhaps over-) conscious of the neighbors and how the howling will affect them. It was, briefly, useful for discouraging deer from our yard, but the effect was shortlived.

    Your furnace story really encapsulates the forced intimacy and supreme awkwardness of having servicepeople in your home. In the hour or two that the security system installation person was in my house, I learned a lot about his (recently) late wife and their life together and, now, apart.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Suzanne, I agree that we are the product of so much, some of which we can acknowledge, some of which is more amorphous. The poem was interesting to write.

      I’m laughing. Your daughter howled to scare the deer away? Oh I’m loving this kid. I wouldn’t like the howling in the car though.

      I understand about you and your service person’s life story. I had a plumber here once, same sad widower’s tale. It was a strange moment in the basement with Jake that I’m sure we didn’t see coming. Tom must have been quite a positive influence on him.

      Liked by 1 person

  29. When I first heard the original poem (I think on NPR… well, of course on NPR, since that’s all I listen to) a couple of years ago, I was intrigued. I think it was read by the author who had a beautiful, rich voice. I’m glad it continues to find an audience and I love to see how each person makes it their own. Your version is lovely, Ally… one of my favorites.

    Poor Jake. So sad to lose a mentor and friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  31. I love your poem! It’s so unpretentious and comforting. Makes me feel good. We just had our furnace replaced and it is nice to sleep through the night without being awoken by the heaving, choking and belching monster below….. Sweet that the furnace guy had such special connection with his mentor. That’s rare these days.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Jan, I’m glad you liked the poem. It was interesting to write one. I’m looking forward to quiet nights now with this new furnace. It hasn’t been cold enough to keep it on at night, but it’s gotta be better than the old one. I agree that Jake’s respect for Tom was unique– and up-lifting.

      Like

  32. I can definitely sympathize re the furnace. I think we’re on about our fourth furnace since we moved in. They don’t last like they used to. Same thing with roofs (rooves?): this is the fourth, and we’re looking at yet another roof soon. We might get some help from the insurance company, as this latest round includes some water damage.

    I like the poem. I would need a lot more time to write something like that, because I really suck at poetry….

    Liked by 2 people

    • John, the thing about furnaces is that you need them, but paying for one seems painful. The money could be going for something fun. Four furnaces should mean you’re entitled to the fifth one for free!

      Buying a roof is also boring, not to mention you have to decide on a color which is a stumbling block for me.

      I followed the prompts on the template so writing the poem was easier than I thought it’d be. However I take your point, poetry intimidates me.

      Liked by 1 person

  34. I love your poem! Also, I feel so badly for Jake. Talk about an unexpected moment. As for the howling kindergartners and dogs, my husband howls when he hears coyotes and they howl more! He’s a kid at heart.

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  35. I love this post! I think it’s sweet that Jake was so moved by remembering his furnace repair mentor. I love that the kids were howling, making the dogs howl as well. I love your poem – I must give it a try. And I love all the memes. It’s fun to see what you’re up to on Threads. I enjoy the newness of the platform, just being there for the fun of it.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Michelle, thanks for your kind words. The impromptu memorial for Tom was unique, but Jake seemed genuinely upset. The kids howling and egging the dogs on was the best. If you try the poem make sure to link to Kari, she’s keeping a list of them.

      I enjoy Threads, too. It is the least stressful social media I’ve done. Just new and fun with people who don’t seem to have any agendas. And how refreshing is that?

      Liked by 1 person

  36. Oh, Ally, I love this. I am so glad you did this poem project.

    What’s funny is that I was just thinking about you this morning. I was thinking about your actual hometown in Ohio and how you grew up there. Why? I have no idea. Then I saw you did this poem, and it made me smile. I can really picture where you grew up now. ❤️

    Liked by 2 people

    • Kari, I’ve been wanting to write this poem. Your idea of doing these poems is brilliant. How incredible that you were thinking of me and my hometown this morning. We’re definitely on the same wave length these last few days. YAY! 😁

      Liked by 1 person

  37. Pingback: Where I’m From – A Grace Full Life

  38. My kids are pre-schoolers and I can totally see that howling scene happening. In fact, I can hear it, and all the dogs. (Meanwhile, the cats are taking advantage of the situation and settling down in the dogs’ favourite warm blankets.) Anyway, little kids do everything with gusto. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d admire them for it!

    Liked by 2 people

    • The Snow Melts Somewhere, the howling took me by surprise [of course] but once I caught onto what was going on [loudly] I was all for it. You’re right that age twerp does everything with gusto. And ain’t it a pip?

      Liked by 1 person

    • Judy, I’ve been hooked on coffee since high school. It’s in my blood, maybe literally. 😉

      The conversation with Jake about Tom was odd, but Jake seemed sincere so we stood there quietly waiting to see where the conversation was going to take us next.

      Liked by 1 person

  44. A moment of silence for Tom from here in Wisconsin. I wonder if Jake is running into lots of Tom’s initials and I hope for his sake that he doesn’t. It sounds like it would be very very hard.

    I saw Kari’s poem and told myself I’d take a hand at making one of my own, but hers and yours are SO GOOD and lovely and maybe I’ll just keep mine to myself and not publish it on my blog. It pales in comparison.

    Liked by 2 people

    • NGS, good point. I hadn’t thought about how Jake may be running into lots of Tom’s furnaces as he replaces them and feeling the feelings every time. It was a respectful minute in our basement, but unusual.

      I’m flattered that you liked my poem. I followed the prompts as best I could. If you decide to publish yours, which I’m sure is wonderful, I’ll enjoy it. If you decide to use your own punctuation, I’ll totally understand as well.

      Like

  45. I especially love the poem! It stirs something in me. And that touched me, the story about Jake and Tom, and little kids…. aren’t they the coolest. Thank you for sharing this slice of your life with all of us. I’m starting to fade….5 AM comes pretty early. DM

    Liked by 2 people

    • DM, I’m happy to know that the poem resonated with you. Try writing one and see where it takes you. I agree the little twerps are the coolest, who knows why they were howling like wolf pups at that hour, but they were.

      Thanks for stopping by to read and comment. Sweet dreams!

      Liked by 1 person

  46. Ally, I can just imagine the noise and those dogs just gettin’ into it. Many years ago, my aunt and grandmother lived together and when we’d go back for visits, often timed for birthdays, we’d be singing happy birthday and my aunt’s dog, Apache, would be howling his head off. The louder we sang, the more he “sang” and we never knew if it was to simply join in or to drown our off-key singing out. Don’t Dalmations have an odd bark for such a large dog? There is one that lives across the street and is always yapping at the living room window, especially in Summer. That is a sad story about Jake and his mentor, Tom. I can imagine how awkward it was with the three of you standing there. I like your autobiographical poem – very nice!

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    • Linda, too funny about Apache singing along with you. I’m sure he was merely attempting to harmonize with you people, not drown you out! And yes, Dalmations have a deep odd bark– even more so when egged on by kids.

      I’ll admit that having an impromptu memorial service in our basement was a little awkward, a little sweet, and entirely respectful. I enjoyed writing the poem. I don’t think of myself as a poet so fun to challenge myself thusly.

      Like

      • It was so funny with Apache and I used to take a cassette recorder and tape us opening presents for birthdays and when we celebrated Christmas as you could hear Apache “singing” away. Then we’d listen to it later and laugh about it. My aunt took all the “squeakers” out of his squeaky toys as he would squeak them non-stop ’til it drove you crazy. Everyone who visited the house would bring him a new toy and he got to keep the “squeak” ’til the guest went home, then she took it out.

        A little out of the ordinary, but it is nice to see a man who can unabashedly express his emotions like that. As the saying goes “you are a poet and don’t know it.”

        Liked by 1 person

        • Obviously Apache made a big impression on you and your family. He sounds like a loveable goofball. I like that his toys were all de-squeaked. That’s funny.

          Jake was an okay guy. I’ll remember him more than I did Tom.

          Liked by 1 person

    • Your comment went into moderation not spam, so there’s that. BUT I don’t know why it happened either. Some longtime commenters always go into moderation even though I didn’t put them there. The ways of WP are mysterious.

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  49. Never know when sadness is going to make an appearance, but that had to be a curious feeling to be around a grieving furnace man. We had something similar happen not that long ago. There were several trees that were in danger of toppling over, and we had been trying to find out who the landlord was for a nearby property. We finally managed to locate them. A tree guy came out to inspect the trees to give the woman an estimate. She broke down because her husband had recently passed, and she was suddenly thrust into a role she knew nothing about.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Pete, you really did have a similar experience to our grieving furnace guy. I feel sorry for the widow just reading about the situation. While it wasn’t what you intended to happen when you wanted the tree situation taken care of, it is what happened. People all come with their own stories, don’t they?

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  50. Loves the poem, Ally. I laughed at your first story although when the dog next door is out, endlessly doing her bored barking, I’m not so amused. But if it and all their six girls were howling like wolves, I’d have to either laugh or rush next door to strangle them all. 😉

    Liked by 2 people

    • Janet, I take your point about how once hearing kids + dog howl like wolf puppies is cute, BUT if it was daily or constant it’d be not so cute. Glad you enjoyed the poem.

      Like

    • Akilah, thanks. I don’t usually lean into poetry so something different for me. As was the minute of silence for Tom. Kind of awkward, but memorable… just maybe not in the way Jake meant it to be.

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  53. A template with which to write a poem? That could encourage me to try. I’ve downloaded it and will give it a go when I’m more fully awake (since moving to tea, it takes more than the one cup).

    Love hearing about Jake. Reminds me of the story that German engineers mark their work with individual identifiers, thus encouraging them to take personal pride in their work.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Deb, the only way I’d have written a poem like this one was to use a template. It was interesting to see where the prompts took me, but yes please be fully caffeinated before you attempt it. Very prudent of you.

      I didn’t know about the German engineers but this sticker approach is exactly like that. Poor Jake, though. It was difficult for him.

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  54. Awww, Jake! That is so sweet and touching. I never thought that would be a thing but of course.
    This whole post was so fun to read, Ally! I could just picture all the howling kids and dogs. And I love that you have your coffee outside in the morning. How peaceful and lovely.
    The poem is great. It makes me so happy to read it.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Nicole, I can guarantee you I never thought about how one furnace installer could be moved to almost tears seeing the work of the previous furnace installer. It was a moment for Jake within a weird moment for us.

      The kids + dogs howling was an oddly perfect start for the day. Thanks about the poem, easy to write following the prompts, but not to be repeated.

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  56. This was just such a lovely post to read this morning.

    Love the poem – beautiful.

    The howling “dog-children” and almost spilling your coffee made me laugh.

    What a touching moment with Jake and in remembrance of Tom.

    And I basically live for meme’s, so thanks for some fresh fodder 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • Elisabeth, you are too kind. I’m glad this post resonated with you. Writing the poem was outside my comfort zone, but I did it. The kids made my day, truth be told, and as for Jake… well, it was an unexpected conversation, respectful, but definitely out of the blue.

      Enjoy the memes. Thanks for stopping by to read and comment.

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  57. While kind of cute, I hope that your little wolves don’t make this a frequent game. You might have to start singing Who Let the Dogs Out? Woof. Woof! at them.

    Interesting idea for a poem. There must be nearly as many approaches to it as people who try to fill it in. It looks hard.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Zazzy, they’ve only done the wolf puppy howl thing once, or at least that I’ve heard. Considering the ages of the twerps, they’re probably on to new things by now.

      By following the prompts the poem wasn’t too difficult to do. I agree that there must be many approaches to writing this kind of poem. The template Kari shared worked for me.

      Liked by 1 person

  59. May Tom RIP. Apparently, he was very special to Jake and that is sweet to know.
    I actually love the sound of kids playing, enjoying themselves. But maybe that is too early for fun. 😜😳
    I love your poem; beautifully done my friend.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Suz, I was happy to know that Tom meant so much to Jake, but also surprised to find us standing before a new furnace taking a minute in honor of Tom. I’m sure you understand.

      I like hearing kids play, too. I was more startled than irritated. I mean wolf pups howling? Thanks for the compliment on the poem. Kari made me do it. 😉

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  60. At my high school, the English teachers had students write those poems; they really are quite illuminating. I would have felt very awkward about Tom; however, I created my own moment when after finally coming out of no cell service, I discovered that a gymnastics mom I knew had died. John had to stop at Les Schwab to check out a tire sensor issue, and I was crying while the LS employee and John stood around, not knowing what to do or say.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Margaret, I remember friends’ kids writing poems like this one, but this was my first and only attempt at writing my own.

      As for Jake and Tom and the new furnace sticker, that’s not how we were expecting the conversation to go but were respectful.

      I’m sorry to learn about the gymnastics mom and how it choked you up. Quite a shock, I take it. I’m sure you’ll be remembered at that particular Les Schwab. Sometimes feelings crop up and there you are in the moment with them.

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  61. I think Jake is my kind of person. How lovely of him to be so moved about a coworker! It’s clear that he had strong positive memories of this man who possibly mentored him and made a very lasting impression on him. Awkward for you and your husband, yes, and likely for him, too, but what an affirming show of humanity.

    Love the Bus Stop Wolves story! I hope they all got it out of their systems before they boarded the school bus or that poor driver was in for it.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Nance, Jake was a diligent worker so I have to give part of that credit to Tom. As for having a memorial minute in your basement for someone you only remember in theory was a new one for us, but Jake seemed sincere. It was a good thing.

      I’ve no idea if the human wolf pups kept up the howling in the bus, but they were a delight to hear briefly. So loud.

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  62. Listening to little children laughing in the morning always gives me hope for the future. Each one of them has so much potential, if we don’t “learn it out of them.”

    I enjoyed your poem. A product of everyone who has come before. Excellent.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Dan, a great line: “learn it out of them.” That’s the truth of it. I haven’t heard anymore howling out front but that just tells me they’re onto better morning things.

      Writing the poem wasn’t my usual thing, but thanks for the compliment. We all is to some degree who we was.

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  63. I love your poem. I love the idea of the prompt. I’ll bet you felt good after writing it, after putting down all those things that are not necessarily related but are related in you.

    I almost always enjoy workers who come to the house–sometimes just because I admire their ability to do the work, but often because they reveal themselves in little ways, and it’s nice to get to know them even that little bit.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Nicki, writing the poem was interesting, maybe not in the sense of the wild life I’ve lead, but in thinking back on my life in these small familial ways. Nothing I’d do normally.

      Sometime the people who come to the house to do work are memorable. Obviously Jake was one. I know what you mean about getting to know a little bit about someone who you’d otherwise never talk with.

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  65. I dipped my toe back into the blogosphere this morning after a couple of weeks of time off. Out of the dozens of unopened blogs begging to be read, this is the first one I clicked on. What a perfect re-entry! I enjoyed every word, chuckled, mourned a little, and love your poem. I might try one of my own. Seems like a cathartic walk down memory lane. A totally delightful post from beginning to end. Thanks!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Julia, I’m flattered that this post called to and resonated with you. That’s high praise. You’ve summed up the vibe I was going for with each section: chuckled, mourned, and loved. Thank you.

      I’m not a poet but by following the prompts on the template I was able to write this poem. If you try it I’ll be interested in knowing how you feel about it.

      [Also, I don’t know why your comments go into moderation, but they do. I didn’t put you there, but WP does. Just thought you should know this.]

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  66. I’m going for it! I can’t decide whether to just whip it out off the top of my head, or give it some in depth consideration. Maybe check all of the above, eh? It would be interesting to see how they may differ. Meanwhile, I think I’ll send the template to a friend who will be all over it. I don’t understand the “in moderation” either. It just seems to happen sometimes. WordPress has a mind of its own….

    Like

    • I wrote my poem off the top of my head attempting to utilize the punctuation, but when I went back to edit the poem I couldn’t abide the punctuation so I revised the poem which meant the words/thoughts changed. You’re not the only regular commenter whose comments get moderated for reasons I don’t know. WP plays head games with us.

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  68. What a beautiful poem, Ally! I really loved it. I would read a whole lot more poems from you.

    I’m giggling at the visual of all the kids at the bus stop howling making the dogs howling. Oh, kids!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Stephany, thank you. I’m glad you liked the poem, it’s something I’d never do if’n Kari hadn’t nudged me into doing it.

      The kids + dogs were unexpected, but they did make for a good start of the day. I mean, why not howl?

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  69. Your poem is a lovely way to encapsulate your heritage, Ally. Interesting, readable ( not all poetry is an easy read) and informative. Is ‘dagnabbit’ a part of that history? It is an idiom with which I am totally unfamiliar.

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    • Amanda, I wrote the poem by following the prompts, not sure what I’d end up with. I’m glad it’s readable, like you said not all poems make sense [at least to me].

      ‘Dagnabbit’ is an old-fashioned curse word, so in a way it is part of my history. It means goddamnit but is a more refined way to say it. Today it’s more of a joke to say it, an interjection, than a serious oath.

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  70. That’s a lovely poem, Ally. A stay-at-home dad must have been a pretty rare thing back then.
    Coincidentally, the furnace guys are arriving this morning. One branch of the company first, to fix it (it’s making an awful noise) and the other branch of the company to do the biannual tune up and duct cleaning (3 pets . . . ’nuff said). I sure hope we don’t have to have a solemn, tearful ceremony next to my furnace.

    Liked by 7 people

  72. Oh what a great memory, the scent of bayberry candles, reminds me of the holidays and my grandparents’ house on Cape Cod… It was nice getting to know your background a little better by way of your delightful poem. And I love how you linked three very different stories with the Ps. I can relate to Jake, I get choked up over reminders and memories like that, too.

    Liked by 4 people

    • Barbara, thanks for reading my poem. It was something I’d never think to do on my own but by following the prompts I wrote it. I miss the scent of bayberry, truth be known.

      The situation with Jake was [obviously] unexpected but he seemed sincere in his respect for Tom so we stood there politely waiting.

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  75. I like your poem! I remember doing something similar way back in 2006, though it wasn’t in a poem format. Interesting.

    Touching about the furnace guy, who knew. I mean, you certainly didn’t know you were going to be moved by someone’s grief when you ordered a new furnace, did you?

    I love the kids howling and getting the dogs in on it. Hilarious.

    Liked by 2 people

    • J, I know some friends’ kids did something like this poem with a template when the kids were in high school so I think the idea has been around for a while. I’m not inclined to write poetry, but with a template it was doable.

      The furnace, which is running at this very moment, will always have a special, albeit odd, place in my heart. I don’t remember Tom but Jake was a good guy.

      Yes, the kids + the dogs were a moment in time. I haven’t heard the cacophony again, but I smile just thinking about it.

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  76. The alliteration of the P’s made me contemplate a series of 26 posts, letter alliteration by letter alliteration. Not sure I’ve got enough creativity for that though.

    Interesting poem. I did check out the template. Thanks for sharing it.

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    • Pat, I’ve seen a few bloggers do a weekly series of posts using each letter of the alphabet as a prompt. I don’t remember anyone getting overly alliterative with it, though. You’re right it’d be fun but take a lot of creativity.

      I followed the template for the poem. Without the template I don’t know that I could have written a poem. It’s not really my genre.

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  77. I’m finally making my way here on a Tuesday to see what’s new in Ally’s world. Well, dang, I must confess, I miss the usual questions you pose at the end of a post. 😉

    I love that your day started with laughter that made you almost spill your coffee. Laughing in the morning is a great way to kick in dopamine along with the coffee buzz.

    I’m sorry to hear about the passing furnace and Tom, that’s such an odd coincidence that both passed on in the same time frame. 🤔😢

    Well done on the poem. I struggle with poems too. Did it come easily to you to find answers to the prompts?

    Liked by 2 people

    • Shelley, thanks for stopping by to read and comment. I figure sometimes it’s good to forego the questions, let readers join in and say whatever crosses their minds after reading what I write.

      The kids + dogs were a hoot, so much energy. The impromptu basement memorial service for Tom was a first, as you can imagine.

      I’m not a poet, however by using the template I was able to write this one. And yes the prompts evoked immediate thoughts from my past. Give it a whirl, see what you get.

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  78. I like your poem, very very muchly. Well done.
    I am awed at the reverence over the exchange of furnaces and stickers. I didn’t see that coming and I got a lil verklempt.
    Great post ❤

    Liked by 2 people

    • joey, I’m not a poet but with the prompts it was easy. Who knew? I didn’t see the memorial service in the basement coming either. We were respectful, but also kind of just wanted to get on with things. Jake had been here for hours at that point.

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  80. I am not a poet, but I could probably come up with a poem with the help of a template. Who knew it could produce such a thoughtful poem? 🙂

    I also like to take my coffee in the morning with a side of nature (but no spilling please).

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    • San, I don’t think of myself as a poet, but by following the prompts on the template I wrote a poem. Give it try, it was pretty easy.

      Yep, don’t spill the coffee… you can spill the tea but not the coffee. 😜

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  81. I have a Where I’m From, too:

    I am from wide open spaces,
    from endless horizons and Oklahoma skies.
    I am from dancing lessons on Main Street.
    (Pirouettes and plies
    and a shuffle ball change,
    it felt like Broadway.)
    I am from faith and gratitude, peace and hope.

    I’m from banana bread and books,
    from Sharon and David.
    I’m from “Treat people how you want to be treated”
    and “Participate.”
    I’m from “I can do all things
    through Christ who strengthens me” and
    “When you know better,
    you do better.”

    I’m from Ada and George, Catherine and Ed,
    many more books and second-hand shopping.
    From lifelong friendships
    and hometown happenings,
    hard work and hellos.
    From mistakes and heartaches
    and forgiveness.

    Turned pages of my history
    bookmarked to guide me
    through the next chapters of
    my unwritten future.

    Liked by 2 people

    • You are found! I adore your poem. It is insightful and beautifully written. I especially like how the name of your blog is part of your poem. Your last stanza is evocative and inspiring, btw– here’s to a blessed unwritten future. Thanks for sharing your poem here.

      Liked by 1 person

  82. Nicest autobiography ever. (Metal tea balls! As a kid I was fascinated by those- ours had little star cut-outs…but mom was annoy when shown how you could grab it by the end and swing it around like a tether ball…she had NEVER seen anyone even think of doing that…so she said)
    Dogs, kids, and furnace stickers – odd the things that make-up life.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, philmouse. I don’t remember star cutouts on the tea ball, just tiny holes. I can see how it could make a dandy tether ball. You’re right, life is filled with an odd mix of things. This post is proof of that.

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