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Spring beckons with a warming trend, then rain begins to fall,

On every piece of earth around, but still, it says it all.

Winter, although lovely of its own accord, has gifts,

At its end does not inspire but causes woe and rifts.

Clean-up time's invited, grab the hoe and get the rake,

The work ahead seems endless, but how lovely it will make,

The little worlds we live in, the space we call our home,

To make a resful respite, from wherever we may roam. 

The melting snow is dirty, uncovering winter's wrath,

Brush and leaves and blown debris are blocking every path.

The birds above are singing, the breeze is cool but soft,

The twittering is musical from feathered life aloft.

Hibernating's over, little heads peek out from dens,

New life still hides, as flowers bud, no longer ifs but whens.

Yes, whens as when we'll see them, brand-new life and colors new.

As spring bursts forth with promise, one with hope of life anew.

 Written by Pethaven March 28,2009

I'm not my perky self tonight, I'm tired, rather blah,

I wanted to go out to eat, but now it seems too far.

I thought a plate of veggies with potatoes and a steak,

Would hit the spot and make me want to have the restuarant make,

The meal as I explained above along with a nice drink,

Would be much easier to face than dishes in the sink.

But home I went, to set outside, my dogs, one at a time,

And now we all are back inside and weariness is mine.

The tummy's filled but not as I had thought that I would do,

I made a sandwich and a drink and here I sit with you,

Rhyming words to say my day was tiring as I said,

And now I'll go and lay my weary body on my bed.

So----have a nice night!!

 Written by Pethaven March 27, 2009

It's early morn, I must prepare to get myself to work,

I do not want to go there, but my paycheck is a perk.

I need to eat, a place to live, and money for my bills,

I cannot quit and spend my life just roaming 'round the hills.

I do not know a Donald Trump or have a millionaire,

Within my scan of relatives, no money anywhere.

Unless of course, I dress myself and head for where I make it,

It isn't likely that's there's one who'll give so I can take it.

Ah well, for just a little while, I'll spend the morning dreaming

But way inside I know full well there is no use in scheming.

So now I'll go and take my shower, and wash my my fuzzy head

Instead of dreaming up more plans, I'll go to work instead.

written by Pethaven March 25, 2009

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Walking through the woods, I smell the flowers and the trees,

It makes me glad I'm living and I'm happy to be me.

The sky's azure, the grass is green, the clouds are pillowed cremes,

And all the sounds of nature penetrate my lazy dreams.

I wander down a pathway filled with needles, bristly pine-

At times I wander aimlessly and feel the woods are mine.

The birds above are singing, something scampers past my feet,

And the odors of the forest are a mixture smelling sweet.

I walk a wooded pathway watching antics of my pet

As he runs from tree to bush to rock, to worry and to fret-

(Over some elusive prey, that I've not seen as yet)

Attention flowing elsewhere, he plunges into flowers,

To sniff and smell, to roll and twist, for most of half an hour.

I tread the path within the woods and rest against a tree

And laugh aloud, enjoying him, as doggie scampers free-

      A nose in a bush, a snap at a fly,

     An ear cocked a'listening, an eye to the sky.

He shows me, my dog, that it's hardly a chore,

To give him his walk, that these times are much more,

Than a grudgingly-given fast exercise run,

For my Gandy and me, it's a pleasurable fun!

Written in 1984

from Excerpts From My Meandering MInd (c) 1986 Connie Carter Illustrated by Shelley Griska

What do you see when you look at me, what do you see, what do you

see?

Do you see a woman of forty-nine or an infant neglected by someone

unkind?

Do you see a woman, creative and caring, or the toddler with hopes, still,

for love to be sharing?

Do you see the woman who struggled through school,or the child who

was given no guidance or rule?

Do you see the woman who balanced her life to provide for her children

through years filled with strife?

Or, can you see, still, the floundering teen, who needed some guidance

betwixt and between?    

What do you see, what do you see, what do you think, when you look at

me?

Do you see the woman, a bride for a while, or the girl who would struggle

to give you a smile?

Do you see a woman, not yet twenty-two, already wondering what she

would do?

With a life she had made she had hoped would be pleasing, caught in a

bind, with security-teasing.

Do you see that woman, her own children, growing, lost in a sea of

emotional rowing?

Or the child, still within, needing comfort and calm, calling out, reaching

for love's soothing balm?

Do you see that woman, her own children grown, now taking the time to

gather her own?

The infant, the toddler, the child and the teen, to quiet the raging, the pain

and the scream.

To reach deep inside to quiet the fear, to self-heal the raging, to stop up

the tear.

Do you see the woman, determined to mend, to heal broken psyches to

cause them to blend?

To strive to be peaceful, to learn how to cope, to look beyond limit and

learn how to hope.

Do you see the woman I want you to see? The one I am learning to look

at is me.

3-14-95

While waiting for my second child, I wondered what it'd be,

A boy would be a playmate by the time that Dave was three,

And very soon, my wish came true, a blue-eyed blonde named Mark,

It wasn't long before the two would playfully embark-

Upon a journey into dreams of trucks and tents and toys,

Though generally they'd get along, they'd fight like any boys.

"That's mine!" "It's not!" "Hey, Ma, my truck!" "He knocked my Lego down!"

It wasn't ever all the same, the two'd go round for round.

And on the other side of town, a little girl at play,

Who someday would affect our lives a very special way.

A child embarrassed easily, though not so much today,

She, like Mark, while growing up, had two with whom to play.

One day, while still in junior high, a friend of Mark's named Jim,

Happened to have met a girl, he introduced to him.

The two became a duo, each the other's complement.

Although that meeting was the first, it set a precedent.

For soon, wherever Mark would go, there Amy would appear,

Which pleased us all, as well as Mark,  ('cuz Ame is such a dear).

Now young Mark had a monkey, young Ame an alligator,

I wonder if this common bond was love's denominator?

We wish you both much happines, well past this day of cheer,

A life of love as best of friends to last you all your years!

Written for Mark and Amy on their wedding day, which was 19 years ago!!!! How time flies.(they have two lovely little girls)

I hesitate before I walk, I'm slow upon my feet,

And I don't always recognize the people that I meet.

Although I'm sure we've met before, my memory is dim,

And I no longer am the girl, once straight and tall and slim.

I can not always find the words I search my mind to say,

And sometimes people make me feel like I'm just in the way.

I sit, when I would rather walk, within my easy chair,

And dream of days of long ago, when I walked everywhere.

Sometimes I have no patience for the things that I must do,

Especially when ere I feel I must be fast as you.

It's easier for you to pause than for me to speed my pace,

And sometimes I would like to see a smile upon your face.

Sometimes when I attempt to eat, I notice that I spill,

And food falls on my clothes and chin, no matter what I will,

But many times my mind is sharp and I have things to say,

I'd like for you to sit awhile and pass some time away.

My mind is filled with memories I'd like for you to share,

I sometimes need your company, to show me that you care.

We'll get to know each other, for I'd like for you to see,

That I'm a person, NOW, you know, not who I used to be!

From "Excerpts From My Meandering Mind" (c) 1986 written by Connie Carter (Pethaven) illustrated by Shelley Griska

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     Gandy was an incredibly smart and funny dog. The things he would do continue to amaze me. I knew he was unique but while I had him I just accepted that he was, well, Gandy. It started as soon as I bought the little ball of fluff.  I had owned him just a few days and was visiting a neighbor. I was in her living room talking. The little dog went to the door again and indicated that he wanted to go out. I, of course, told the neighbor he didn't need to go out, I had just put him out. Gandy, who was all of eight and a half weeks old jumped up and down and indicated the door again with a look on his face that said, "Look, stupid, did you just tell me that this is where I go to pee, or what? So, let's go." I took him out and he did his thing. The funny thing about Gandy was that you always got the sense that he thought you weren't too smart. A few days later, I came home to an accident at the top of the stairs. Like many owners of puppies, I talked "baby talk", to the dog. "Who did that pee pee? Did puppy do that?" Of course I went on and on. That dog's attitude was always, "here we go again, is this dumb, or what?" Into the bathroom Gandy went, grabbed the end of the toilet paper and ran into the hall with it in his mouth and shoved it into the center of the puddle. (The end was still attached to the roll in the bathroom) I got the feeling that he was saying, dispense with the stupid baby talk; isn't this what you are suppose to be doing? This was a witnessed event-I had company with me.  Yet it was only the beginning of many similar incidents which left me laughing.

      Thoughts of Gandy brings back so many memories. I miss him a lot. I babysat for awhile for extra money and cared for a baby about four months old. If the baby woke up and cried, Gandy would jump up on the bed, walk over to where the baby was laying and check it out, he never got very close. If the crying continued and I didn't appear right away, he would come and find me and run between the baby and me continuously, "talking" up a storm the whole time, moaning and complaining until I stopped whatever I was doing and attended to that baby. 

      I moved his food dish out near the back door--I think I was stripping the wax off the kitchen floor. Usually Gandy ate his food as soon as it was set on the floor, but I noticed he took one look, gave a horrified look at his bowl, and walked away from it, very insulted. I couldn't figure what was wrong until I got close enough--the back door was opened and some red ants had entered the back hall near the door and crawled onto his food bowl. I never moved his dish near an open door again. 

     When I got him I had a guinea pig (named Rusty Jones the Convertible Burble); Gandy loved that guinea pig--my son built a cage in woodworking class for it so Rusty could have a picture window. Gandy would often climb onto the chair beside the table Rusty's cage was on, jump in and sit with Rusty for awhile. It was funny to walk by the cage and see the two of them sitting there side by side. I took Rusty in a basket on Gandy's walks. When the guinea died, Gandy looked for him everywhere. For the rest of Gandy's life, every time he heard a guinea pig squeal, he'd flip out trying to see it.

     About the same time I had two rabbits, Snowball and Midnight. If they got down on the floor, Gandy would walk with them, and as long as they were just hopping about, they were fine. But if they decided to run, Gandy would get very upset, especially if they ran free while outdoors.  He learned how to run on three legs so that when he caught up with the lead rabbit he could bop it on the head with his paw, whereupon the rabbit (usually Midnight) would stop. Then all would be fine again.

     We all have had that beloved pet -I have had many pets and my dogs have been both a source of comfort and companionship, as well as much entertainment. I think the smartest dog I ever had--(well, actually she was my brother Ronnie's dog) was Trixie, a collie-sheltie mix. She knew a total of 56 tricks-Ron spent all his spare time early on teaching that dog different things. My personal favorite was to push her head down and she'd hold it there until you pumped her tail and then she would raise her head a little at a time. She also went to the store for us and fetched the paper from the bottom of the stairs. I think of her from time to time, and though I definitely loved them, no other pets I have owned ever replaced Mick or Gandy who are indelibly etched on my heart.        

      Gandy (Gandalf) was my favorite dog-the first of my Pekingese. Funny and smart-he'd do the craziest things.  He mimicked sounds  with  which he appeared to be “talking” and that earned him a reputation all around Nashua. I brought him to the Bank of NH once because Lee, the manager at the time, had heard about the talking dog--I brought him in on a Thursday. I told him to tell Lee--"I love you" Gan threw his head back and said "Wy wove oo" The people in the crowded bank were hysterical--one lady said--"Did you hear that dog say I love you?" She kept repeating it-it was so funny--almost as entertaining as that funny dog. I took him to the vet's to have a procedure done, and the whole time I sat in the waiting room he screamed what sounded like "No! No! No! People were looking at each other and I'm assuring them that that is my dog and pretty soon the door opens and out walks Gandy in the shape of a U--head and tail even, and coming towards me. Dr Kaas says, "What is this character doing, now?" And laughing, I said, he is showing me his boo boo. (Dr Kaas had been working at extracting his anal glands.) 

    I often put him in the back seat with the seat belt through his harness for safety, and he hated that-he would "complain" the whole ride. He could be very "vocal". One ride, I'd had it and told him to be quiet several times-he wasn't listening of course, and I stopped the car, opened the door and bopped him on the head---the look on the little dog's face was priceless and the tiny fuzzy brat----picked his paw up and bopped me back. I sat on the curb and laughed---that dog was crazy. He was a precious pet who lived nearly fifteen years and I miss him very much. 

     When he (and she) was younger my daughter would dress him in doll clothes and put him in her doll carriage. He endured a lot of that.

      I lived on Burritt St in Nashua some years back and Gan would run in to a neighbor's yard to play with his dog while I talked to the neighbor about various occurrences around the neighborhood. This was a weekly or twice weekly thingy. One day I went outside and Gandy was with me. He, as usual, ran around the fence and through the gate. Almost immediately I heard terrorized screaming-doggy style. My heart went to my feet. I looked over the fence-my neighbor had neglected to mention a visiting German Shepherd. All I saw was my dog, on his back, feet in the air, screaming and this huge German Shepherd on top of him. I didn't ask any questions, any permission, any anything. I jumped the fence, grabbed the tail of this possibly vicious animal and yanked him away from my precious pet. (who was still literally screaming) I got down on all fours over my dog and scooped him into my arms - then went running into the house and placed my poor attacked and traumatized boy on the bed. On his back. Checked the still screaming dog all over, every inch, combing through his fur, checking his neck, his head, his chest---NOTHING. Not a scratch. And my dog is still screaming. "Gandy, you're okay." I said this to a seemingly deaf dog, several times. Finally I picked him up, shook him and said it into his face. "You are fine, dog, there is nothing wrong with you!" I placed him back on the bed in a standing position. He finally stopped screeching and seemed to pause a bit, shook himself and then, my fourteen pound Pekingese walked across the bed with a self assured (after all the screaming) look on his fuzzy face, and gave one "Woof" out the window in the direction of my neighbor's yard. He had an air of superiority as though he were saying, "Guess I told him!" Oh that animal was priceless. I went back outside to tell my neighbor that Gan was fine--it turns out that the visiting shepherd was his cousin's dog--about twelve years old. A second look told me that the graying elder dog was a gentle creature who was just checking the Peke out. 

       Ah my Gandy--I miss him, very much--he lived to be almost fifteen, and the things he did would fill the pages of a novel. He and his lifelong companion, Mickey, are buried on the side of the driveway to the Humane Society in Proctor Animal Cemetery; they have little marble markers on their graves. They continue to entertain me with precious and unforgettable memories.

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I'm weary of coughs and of sniffles and sneezes,

Of hats and of coats and of cold winter breezes,

A skier I'm not, I don't ice fish or skate,

I don't pine for flurries or hope spring is late.

I like to see snow on its first fall through space,

But then pray it then lands in some foreign place.

Ah, springtime, do hurry,send sunshine that's bright.

And change all the whiteness to color and light.

Send flowers and birdies and grass turning green,

And change outside weather to something less mean.

I love when it's sunny-when buds burst forth life.

And weather is gentle, not cold- causing strife.

New Year, welcome springtime, please bring on the dawn

Of a wondrous new earth, as its splendors are born.

Excerpts of My Meandering Mind  written by Connie Carter, illustrated by Shelley Griska, (c) 1986

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Pudgy faced puppy, michievous and fun

Waggy- tailed, affectionate and often on the run,

Sleeping is a pastime, as is eating-yummy foods,

Worrying a dirty sock, displaying many moods.

Never bored, so much to do, you try to look for trouble,

And usually on finding it, go flying on the double,

To dive under a bed to tease, of course, just out of reach

You rarely ever listen, you're impossible to teach.

You can't make us angry, at least, not for long,

We love you so much and we know you belong-

If your toys are tucked neatly behind the big chair,

Insulted, you drag them to rest everywhere.

In the bedroom, the hallway,on the living room rug-

Anywhere underfoot, you adorable pug.

Oh how you miss us whenever we leave-

How you look out the window to pine and to grieve-

What a welcome you give us when ere we come home,

With you 'round to cheer us, we're never alone.

You listen intently to each word we say,

And nod your opinion, your own special way-

A stray piece of Kleenex-your special delight,

To shred, tear and spread o'er the house in the night.

How you love a good fight, people sizes don't matter,

You growl and come on like the crazy Mad Hatter.

What a comfort you give us when ere we are sad,

Or angry or hyper or quiet or glad,

You spread out your love to your people, each one,

And, oh, what a place in our hearts you have won!

1984-"Gandy" From "Excerpts From My Meandering Mind", written by Connie Carter (Pethaven) illustrated by Shelly Griska (c) 1986

Gandy--how you are sorely missed, you crazy funny dog!!

A friend of mine of many years, Hannah (Bostongal) wrote an article bound to make an impact. A heart rending story of the resounding effects of childhood abuse and how it reaches into adulthood. How very true her words are and memories of another little girl, myself, come to the surface, yet not as they used to, but to give me the realisation of a journey long in the making, that of healing. As with Hannah, self esteem and self love are yet to be realised or understood, but the awakening of dignity which must be held to, of respect which must be given, for the realisation comes that  it is a respect well earned.

This may seem sad, but it is more a reality and the end an awareness that one's own life is a gift worthy of respect, and of dignity.

My Inner Child

Be still child and don't cry,

Your tears were not heard long ago,

And they are not heard now.

Be still child;survive,--as you did then,

Do now, and grieve within yourself.

Be still child; don't reach out your hand,

There is no one to take hold of it,

Especially now, that you hide within.

Be still child; don't ask to be listened to,

For no one hears you now any more than before.

Be still child; find the strength within yourself.

Now that the person you would become is here.

Be still child; don't speak out, you didn't then

And you shouldn't now; there is no one to hear.

For, if you should scream loudly, and it is heard,

There will be none who care to hear your words,

No one who will take the time---but me.

Be still child; be still, but do not despair,

For the woman you would become, is here,

   and I will care for you.

Written about 1993-94 by Pethaven

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Life has a way of changing things whether dreams or dramas, and I found one when I went outside, (still dressed in my pajamas)

I never got to cruise away to islands on the sea, nor dragged my luggage to a plane with tickets bought by me.

The sofa and the loveseat, I have not sat upon, they sit all wrapped so none gets scratched until the family's gone.

My eyes have turned to other plans which I must look at now, which someone else must come and fix, because I don't know how.

I noticed when the dogs went out by early morning light, the melting snow uncovered winter's wrath, unsightly blight.

The steps now need repairing, the railings coming loose, the shed which froze shut with the ice will put my paint to use.

The side which used to have a lawn is now a mound of sand, the whole place looks like it could use at best a helping hand.

Was early for that thought to hit, that maybe I should get, some paint, a hoe, a handyman, and cause my mind to set,

On things that maybe aren't so grand as sailing off to sea, but maybe I can concentrate on spending all on me. (and my house and yard!)

Written by Pethaven March 17, 2009

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I'm happy, and I'm glad to see, the folks who stop to write to me,

To tell me if I want to go, then I should see that it is so.

They're  all for thinking flights are fine, and one of those flights should be mine.

That I should pick a place and fly, so I don't sit alone and sigh.

But folks-- for all the thanks I feel, I found a buy that was a steal.

I bought a sofa and a love seat, (Because I need to sit)

For a price that can't be beat. (it's not a trip, I do admit)

Balancing, I thought it out-there's seats upon a plane.

And for the ride, the seats are mine, but then it's not the same.

A sofa and a love seat, can't take me any place.

But airplane rides can't seat my guests, and sofas can't replace

The places that the airplanes go,  (the sofas stay at home).

But thinking on it, when I'm through, I do no longer roam.

I cannot take an airplane seat, from off the plane with me.

Without upsetting personnel, and then it's plain to see.

When flying's done and  I get home then I will need a space,

To sit and rest my weary self, and think about another place.

Oh somewhere nice, and warm and far, again I'll need to fly,

Oh dear and here we go again, don't know the reason why.

Except that  I like to.

Let's see, I've got to save again, get brochures, find a travel friend, get a puppy sitter, someone to care for the parakeets, some new suitcases.................

Written by Pethaven  March 14, 2009

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It has occurred to me for months that I would like to run,

To somewhere far, perhaps to cruise to bask within the sun.

A cruise somewhere, to far away -it all sounds oh so nice

I've been so very frugal, but I care not what the price.

I'm thinking I don't want to save, that spending's much preferred

Especially to spend on me, while banking is deferred.

Who needs the extra money, when the extra's not so much,

I only want vacation time, don't need a Midas' touch.

I've been to Spain, and England, to Aruba and to Wales.

To islands and within the sea on cruise ships I have sailed.

Just one more time I want to go, create a memory.

I know, I know, the one more time will last eternally.

Written by Pethaven March 23, 2009

It's late, it's after midnight and my working day is done,

Alas, tomorrow, I will not be basking in the sun,

For just as snow melts and I once again can see my lawn,

The weatherman predicts the snow will cover it by dawn.

Two days we had of '50's temps, 'twas really looking cheery,

But now we'll drown in white again, my heart is feeling weary.

I keep on saying that it's near, the bright and hopeful spring,

The flowers, trees and wondrous things like hearing birdies sing.

Ah, please.

Written by Pethaven March 8, 2009

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Hello Bakersfield, how are you doing, what's the weather your way brewing?

Bakersfield is probably warm but Nashua had another storm.

Where once again the snow piled high, it fell in heaps down from the sky,

I didn't think that it would stop, for hours, countless flakes would drop.

But soon the sun will be too low, for weather to be doing so,

We will see warmth, somewhat like you, and flowers, sun and skies of blue.

And still I miss your lovely state, but visiting will have to wait.

To tell the truth I'd like to see, the sun shine warmth all over me.

But there is not another place, to want for my abiding place.

So I'll stay here and visit there whenever time allows

And keep you close within my mind whenever it's vacation time.

 written March 5, 20098 by Pethaven

Just a note--I see current weather your way today-is 37 degrees for 7:30 am and afternoon of 64 degrees. Not bad. I suppose it depends on perspective.  Here at 10:30 am the temp is 27 degrees. (an improvement from yesterday, with afternoon temp to reach 37 degrees.)  Well, you start off like our afternoon. So you do empathize. LOL