Time to...Series - Essay # 3 - Time to Choose a Fork

Time to...Series

Time to…Choose a Fork

Essay No. 03 – Time to Choose a Fork

Have you ever been casually strolling down the highway of life, and suddenly find yourself playing the role of the Coyote in a Roadrunner cartoon.  That moment, when suddenly, a giant fork appears in the road in front of you, and you have to chose which tine on the fork to take.  If you’ve been the coyote before, you know that more than likely, one of those tines is going to have an Acme Safe above it ready to fall on your head.  Another tine, is either going to explode.  Silently you hope that at least one of the tines will be the route that will let you finally catch the Roadrunner

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If you life is like mine, it probably seems to be full of forks in the road, and for many of us, the first fork that we have to choose is sitting on the table in front of us, when we make it to the big table for the family Thanksgiving Dinner. For suddenly instead of the one fork, which you used for everything, there are two or maybe even three forks next to your plate.  You’re first thought is which one is for what, if no one had taken the time to explain this old world tradition, and for most boys, the second thought is, “hey it is all going to the same spot in my body, so why do I need a one fork for my meat and another for my salad.”

If that is the only fork, that you have ever had to make a choice about, then you have lived either a charmed or very boring life, and personally I would lean towards that later.  For most of us, we have had an untold number of forks appear before along our life’s journey.  If you are lucky, most of the forks you meet along life’s road, especially when you are young and learning, are like a carving fork, with just two tines or routes from which to choose. For me, those early forks seemed to be placed in the road of life to teach me how to make the decision about which tine to take in my life’s journey.

I will be the first to admit that I did not always choose the right branch of the fork to follow.  Even though the path was not always right, I tried my best to learn from each mistake, and soon discovered that some of the paths that were wrong would allow you to backtrack and take either the other path, or choose between those remaining.  The trick in life is to not take the fork that is totally wrong, and from which there is no return.  Thankfully, I have not chosen this fork in my life, to date, but it is disturbing for me to see the number of young people, and not just in this country, who are taking that fork.

   

I would also like to admit here, that I have never been one to take one route, and stick to it forever. I have take many a different path, some of which have lead me to amazing experiences, and places, but I have also taken a few duds in my life, most often done during a time of feeling desperate.  However, at the present time I am on a path that I chose from the fork that appeared in my life’s highway at the end of the double ought decade.  Luckily it was a two prong fork, and the forks were pretty easy to choose from: Work, Be Depressed, Be Bored, or Retire, Make the same money, Reduce stress, Be Happy, Be Creative.

It really was a pretty easy choice for me; I retired, and have not looked back. In fact I have only been back once since I left to do a little consulting, and after the first day there, I felt just like I did before I retired.  Luckily for me, I could do the rest of the consulting work from my home, which I happily did. My choice of the retirement fork in the road has done exactly what I expected it to do.  I still have been able to maintain a steady income level, without touching reserves; my stress level is such that I have been able to reduce my medications, I truthfully feel happier than I have in years.  As for where my personal level of creativity is at the moment, since I have retired, I have written and published 27 separate works, initially under my pen-name, and beginning this year under my own name as well.  I also create and maintain my own web-site, www.antiquepoet.com, as well as write and publish three blogs.

 

My favorite part about this path, the one that I call, “Creative Retirement” is that I have not worked a day since I began this journey.  This is a path that I fully intend to stay on for the rest of my life.  Contrary to the path that most seek today, I am not on this path for monetary gain, my rewards along this path, come in the form of emotional stability, personal happiness, and pride in what my creativity has produced.  I still remember the feeling that I felt, when the first copy of the first book I published sold.  It is an easy feeling to remember, since I experience it still today for each book that sells. 

I hope that like me, you are able to choose the path to follow, which brings your happiness and peace, when that multi-tine fork suddenly appears in your life’s highway. My path is chosen, and I don’t foresee it changing anytime soon, but one never does know when that next fork may suddenly appear in life’s road.

©September 23, 2015

Richard Nurse

The Antique Poet

Time to... Series - Essay # 2 - By: Richard Nurse

Time to …

A series of essays on letting your creative side take control’

Essay no. 2- Time to be Proud

The decision to write and published under my own name, was a major step for me. I would no longer be hiding behind a pen-name, but would be now be taking full and complete credit for my work, be it positive or negative.  Along with writing under my own name, I also made the decision to reach out to a different market and in a new genre for me. I did not know what the genre would be, for like so much of what I write, it simply flows out of me. 

The story that escaped from where ever it had been hiding in my sub-conscious became my first International Crime Drama “Murder in St. Luietz” (Guns – Stilettos & Money).  A story that takes place on a fictional tropical island, and not only involves the islands police force, but agents from the United States, and wet work specialist from the Russian mafia, all because a US Senator changed his vote on an appropriations bill, suddenly bringing an end to Gretchen’s grand plan. I decided to Market it exclusively through Amazon, along with a paperback edition through CreatSpace.  I will be the first to admit, that I am still a starving author, but I am proud of its solid reviews, and 4.25 rating. 

While “Murder in St. Luietz” was going through its editing process, I decided to head off in a different direction.  I had a large number of works of poetry, some of which had been published on blogs and others that had never been published.  I decided to break the book into four different sections, and include both poetry and prose. Many of the poems were inspired, by my experiences with dealing with the sudden addition of my mother-in-law, as a member of our household.  As I put the book together, I made the decision that nothing was going to be excluded from the book.  The title for the book is essentially a statement of its contents.  “Words from the Heart” A Collection of Poetry and Prose became the title before the poem “Words from the Heart” was written. The assembly of the parts of the book inspired the title poem.  Published on June 24^th of this year, both through CreatSpace as a paperback, and Amazon in digital formats, I am quite proud of the book and that fact that all of its ratings have been five stars.

A third book also managed to find its way out of heart and mind.  Inspired by a long series of tones that came out of my police scanner one night, as the 911 Center, took total control of the communications channels to put out a system wide broadcast.  This one happened to be to officially announce the retirement of a captain, from the Sheriff’s Department, but the idea formed, and I began to write about a similar series of tones from a 911 Center in a fictitious city. My newest book, “Out of the Chaos” which will be released digitally September 15^th,  was born that night, and simply flowed out of me.

As usual, when I write, I did so without knowing what was going to happen next until is showed up on screen of my laptop.  Somewhere along the way, the book evolved from a police drama, to a romantic police drama, as the principals began to realize that a special connection had formed between them.  Once again I have had the book published as a paperback through CreatSpace, while with this book; I am not limiting it to Amazon. Instead it will be released through Amazon, Smashwords, and Google Play at the same time.

As I said in the beginning of this rambling, that it was a year without plan, and a year with both intellectual and physical creative accomplishments. There is one physical accomplishment which I accomplished that I am extremely proud of.  For a number of years we have had a covered porch behind our garage that we love to spend time on.  However, over the last couple of years, the number of mosquitoes in our area has slowly made our porch unusable, first in the evenings and then with the dampness from our heave snowfall during the winter, and a wet spring, it became unusable with having a fan going at high speed.  After having a new floor poured in the late spring, it bothered me greatly not to be able to use the porch, because of the bugs.

 

In mid June, once again forced off of the porch in the early afternoon, I went up to my office and began to draw up different concepts to screen in the porch.  Over the next week, I measured and created drawings and a list of materials required.  I told my wife of my plan, and then order the material necessary to construct the frame of the porch.  Phase one essentially of the project, that I managed to complete, prior to our departure to Chicago, for our trip with our granddaughter.  Upon our return from Chicago, I began Phase two, which including finishing the lower inner and outer walls, and hanging the door.  Phase three, consisted of constructing 14 custom built frames, and then making each into a tight screen, and fitting it into its assigned space.  While I did the construction and built all of the screens, my dear wife painted and caulked, and then painted some more.  The project was completed by the end of July and we have been able to sit and enjoy our now bug free porch. Our feral cat pride, also enjoys the porch, and quickly adapted to their cat doors, and have, to this date, not bothered climb the screens.  When I finished the porch, I knew that I had done a good job, as I had kept hearing Mike Holmes voice telling me to “make it right”, while I worked on it.  However, when the roofing contractor, whom I had hired to replace our roof and gutters, which had been damaged during the long cold winter, came up and congratulated me on a great job, and asked I wanted to build another one at his house, I knew that I had truly done a job to be proud of.

I don’t know what the rest of the year might bring, for like the beginning of the year, I have no true agenda, with the exception of being a dealer in a two day glass show as part of our antique business, S & D Antiques.  While my wife has a full agenda, as she is booked through most of September, October, November and December, by various institutions and agencies, to present her lectures and talks on Art and Architectural History, to senior citizens, who have not lost the desire to learn. 

I am definitely proud of what I have accomplished this year. For a year that began with no agenda or plan, I can now hold three books in my hand, which were all begun and published this year. And what at times, is the best of all; we can now sit on our porch, and actually read a book or write one, without slapping mosquitoes constantly.  I’ve been doing my best not to write this is verse, but I am slowly loosing that battle:

That’s the Plan

Since, I just realized that,

I just might actually have a plan, 

That might produce something quite grand.

My plan is so simple, all should understand

To let my left side take control,

And go where ever it wants to go.

I’ll let the characters take the lead,

Become their Marionette dangling over the keys

Let them take control, move the wires and string

Making my fingers dance over the keys.

I’ll let each character, write what they please

And what part that they play.

Then I’ll take their story and read it through

And decide just what to do.

Tweak a little here, and add a bit here

Talk with the characters, when I need too

Letting some add to the story

While others just might have to go.

So that is my plan, just plant a seed

Then sit back, and see what will grow.

Now if the truth it to be told,

I’m not being bold, for it’s how I love to write.

So I am willing to wager, more than just a bit;

That my next story will flow, as the characters tell what to I write.

Copyright September 17, 2015

Richard D. Nurse

Scent - A poem inspired by a kittens reaction

Scent

Oh scent from where did you come?

Fear and terror fill me now,

Memories of hiding and climbing over stuff

My eyes still closed I couldn’t even see.

My cries of hunger and pain go unanswered,

No licks, no mews, not teat to suckle,

No siblings with which even to snuggle.

Cries of loneliness linger unanswered.

Oh wait what do I smell, it is coming so near.

I lie and tremble, knowing not what to do

Hunger finally over comes my fear, I cry out.

And feel a soft loving tongue, not unlike my mothers.

Washes, licks, mews, but her teat are all dry

I stumble toward the other scent, this one heavy and strong.

my legs is all bent, which makes it hard to walk.

This other scent, senses I have something wrong.

One sniff, and I cower before him,

His fur is coarse and stiff, not like my mommy.

Hers was soft and fluffy, like the one who licked me,

Not like this one who shuns me, and swats me away from him.

She is carrying me now, hang limp, don’t cry,

She is nice this one, not like him who trots at her side.

She lays me on stone, oh wait I smell food,

Not from her, but from a pile in a bowl.

She nudges me up to the bowl, I hear him growl,

Does she mean to give me his share, now I’m truly scared,

She growls back at him, and keeps nudging me to eat.

He gives way to her, know he needs her to eat.

I see her eat some, and give it a try,

It smells and taste good, but hurts my little teeth,

I’m not ready for dry. I know she is trying to help me,

But I’m thirsty, oh to be able to suckle a teat.

Suddenly, a new scent arrives on the wind,

Knowing that I can’t run, she carries me away.

I never saw what it was, and on her I don’t sense fear,

She pauses by a pond, pausing to show me how to drink.

Then carries me back to the woods,

And lets me lie by her side.

She is warm and soft, and licks the film from my eyes,

I begin to see what I smell, and let out a cry.

He is big and rough, with a stripped tawny hide,

He looks at me like he wants me to die.

He knows I’m not able to live in the wild,

Yet the older mommy, likes me right at her side.

During the night, mommy leaves to go hunt,

And as soon as she gone, he puts his mouth over me

I think I’m going to die, but instead he carries me away

Back to the food bowl, where he drops me to lay.

He leaves my side and goes up high, It’s either eat or die.

Before the sun comes up he noses me to see if I’m alive,

And then is gone, without even a lick good bye.

I know that when the food is gone I will die.

But I didn’t die, I’m alive and here with my family today

That two legged scent rescued me, fed and bathed me,

And are my Mommy and Daddy today. Then why do

I smell that scent, on him and my two best friends.

I can’t help myself as my fear and terror fill my brain,

I flatten my ears, and rare back to fight,

for I Know he is here to finish,

 what he didn’t do that night.

But all I see are friends around me,

Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Tom, Pip, Dusty and Sweet Pea,

All looking very concerned about me.

Tom and Pip come to check on me, but they were by the smell

Wait the smell is gone, Daddy is back, his hand is clean,

My hackles come down,  no longer looking for something to fight.

I check all the others, yes the smell is gone, my home is clean,

I hope my sleeps not filled with bad dreams tonight.

Because Munchkin would much rather play than fight.

© January 12, 2014

All Rights Reserved

Richard D. Nurse

RDN

And Then There Were Six

The story of how Creme Sickle came to join our family.

And Then There Were Six

It was love at first sight, Two weeks after he was born. A Crème colored kitten, with white little mittens. Part of a gang of five to a first time mom Three grey with white mittens the last an orange tiger like our Tom

They would tumble and play five balls of fuzz on four legs. Then curl up together to sleep in the shade of an Iris patch. With each day we watched as their personalities began to show the three grays, shy and timid The Crème and orange were always game.

It didn’t take long to give him a name Crème sickle we called him on that very first day, and which for us is quite rare, it’s still the name he has today.

While the smallest of the litter He was fast and brave. He’d tangle with his older cousins; Even Street Fighter was fair game. And a feeding time, he was never lame, for he sat in the middle of the bowl, atop the food, and ate both his and the others food.

Twice we had him in our arms hoping to find him a home sadly each time ended the same Back home with us he came. Then his siblings were all caught and taken to a foster home .And suddenly Crème sickle had only his mommy at home. Actually that’s not quite true, since he had four older cousins, plus three who were new. He’d sleep with the little ones, where he now ruled, and wrestle and play with his older cousins throughout the day.

We brought him in to see how he would fare with the five we already had in here.

The older two were fine it seemed like they didn’t care. But the younger three; definitely Didn’t want him in their place. The youngest of all actually displayed anger and hate; which for her was a never seen trait.  So back out he went once again with his cousins to play.

So back out he went, with his cousins in the pride, shunned at first from the smell of inside.  But granted a spot by the mother of three, to suckle and bond with the other three. Fully back in the pride, and free to play, be they younger or older, they were all fair game. Even Street Fighter, whose health had turned for the worst, let Crème Sickle cuddle, if not actually play.  And at feeding time, he was on his game, right in the middle of the bowl, sitting atop the food.

Then a plan was hatched to trap the little ones, and send them to foster homes so they could be adopted, and have a home.  The others, we would then catch, and

Neuter or Spay, then back to here where they could stay.  Poor Crème Sickle was the first to get put in a cage; and a plan for his cousin Bullseye; to join him for the day.  Except Bullseye had other plans, as my wife soon found. With her bleeding and scratched Bullseye dashed her plans. 

Little Crème Sickle spent the night in the cage, not very happy you could easily say.  But Street Fighter might have actually been beyond number 9, so off to the vet, knowing full well he wouldn’t be coming home.  Back home we did come with an ach in our hearts, but knowing we had done the right thing, for he was now pain free. 

I opened the garage, and there was Crème Sickle looking and crying at Sue and me. One look at each other and we knew what to do. The trapping plan was on hold, but Crème Sickle wasn’t going free. Instead he was coming back inside with Sue and me.  And together we would take more time to let the other five agree.

With the two oldest it was an ease, Tom is so laid back and easy going, and Sweet Pea, played Mr. Mom to the other three. Pip followed suit, when he realized Crème Sickle liked to play.  The two girls were the tough ones, filled with hisses and growls, and the occasional deep guttural groan.

Five days and nights have passed, and Crème Sickle likes his new home. Big brothers with he can both sleep and play, and two older sister, who while they don’t hiss and growl as much, are like older sisters everywhere, and wish that little brother might simply go away.

©August 24, 2014

RDN

The Circle of Life

A Title I believe has been used a few times before

“The Circle of Life”

Isn’t amazing how the circle

 Of life always seems to go on.

For each one lost;

Another one is found.

Or in the case of Street Fighter,

 Five new ones into view do bound.

For on that sad day

We had to put him down,

Mommy, his companion,

And friend to the end,

Brought out their babies

For their first view of the world around

 Five little balls of fur, all fuzzy and round;

 And pointy little tails; just sort of stumbling around. 

She fed them in the open for us to view,

Her gift, a thank you, and show of trust

For years of caring and loving by us

For her, her children, and her mate by us

What a sight to see, for in the five will be:

One mostly gray, another one tawny,

 And again a brown tiger with cute white paws,

However, the two that I think, Are the cutest of all,

Are 2, four-legged cotton balls

With black spots, randomly scattered about

Just a coincidence

I think not my friend

She knew how bad he was hurt

For she stayed by his side.

She showed us their babies;

For us remaining by their side

Who will take over the pride?

At present, I do not know.

I have to put my faith in mommy

To watch over the pride

For unlike Street Fighter

I cannot always be at her side.

By:  Richard Nurse

©August 22, 2014

Introduction

Introduction:

I guess you can still live the dream life in America.  Althought maybe not as easily as the great generation did.  Being a early Boomer myself I have found the wonders of being retired.

I have two new careers to keep me occupied, and my mind vital and intact. Or at least I think it is.  I actually retired later than I had planned oh so many moons ago, but earlier that I actually figured as I matured.  I reached the dah point, as I call it, in 2010, when my wages were to be frozen for at least two years, and if I took my SSI early, and my State retirement at that point I was working for free.  Thus why work is a world of stress, for no monetary benefit, so I gave my heart and mind a present and retired.

The best career decision I have ever made.  My life, health, and all around well being improved, and I was able to dive into the antique business I had begun ten years earlier, as my retirement career of choice, and enjoy the fun.  Along the way, my second retirement dream began to come to the surface, as I began to write once again, as I had off an on for years, only now I had the time to let the words just flow.

Five novels, 14 short stories and two books of poetry, published under a pen name, instead of by me.  Modest royalities do flow, and it is a pleasure to see someone purchase the stories written by the other me.

Now it is time for me to slip into the open. I have two poetry books on Amazon right now, and one is actually free for the next five days.  As you might be able to tell I often write in verse, and poems about my cats seem to often come first.

You will learn about them, if to this blog you subscribe, for they fill my life with joy and my mind with inspiration.  I hope you will enjoy my blog as it grows, and through here I will tell you as new stories grow.

Richard D. Nurse
RDN