Magazine Posts

Summer's end is drawing near.
Flower growth, does disappear.
But here is a Poppy, that is dear
To flower lovers over here.

"Mari Peterson was born to fly. It’s in her blood. Her great grandfather was a Navy pilot during World War II. And growing up, her dad flew the family’s small airplane."

Learn more about Mari -> https://www.kenmoreair.com/article/237/Kenmore-Air-Pilot-Mari-Peterson/

"Potoroos, birds of paradise, variegated lizards, and other wondrous creatures brought to vibrant life by a visionary woman in the golden age of scientific exploration"..........Click to read more

No matter how I rant and rave,
this World has gone insane.
Full of hate and racial abuse.
Not how I was raised.
Not how I will treat others,
who aren't like me.

You said that you loved me,
with that beautiful smile.
The sound of your voice,
did always beguile.
Forget all the times of the past,
for now I will rejoice
and after a while,
you'll be gone, like before.
I will always miss you.
I hope you miss me more.

The darkness of night.
A bright summer day,
Should sweep our worries,
Far, far away.

I was discharged from the Navy in 56.
Not many jobs were available.
Bucked hay bales for about 3 days.
The skin between my fingers
had blistered from using hay hooks.
Yes I was wearing leather gloves.

My next job was working for
Charles Porter, who had an Apiary.
In late summer, we would go to
his Bee hives. Wear long sleeve shirts,
with collars and sleeves buttoned tight,
put on the hat with the screen mesh,
pull on my gloves, then to the hives,
to take the Honey by lifting out the comb
that was covered with Bees.
Puff up the Smoker, brush the Bees
off with a soft hand broom.
Didn't want to harm the Bees.
Harvest the Honey but leave some
for the Bees would have food.
Go back to the building, where
Mr. Porter had a centrifuge to extract
the Honey. Put in the combs, turn on the
steam, turn on the centrifuge and we would
have golden Honey. Fill up the 5 gallon tins,
stack them away and repeat the process
until the end of the day.
The combs were not thrown away as
the beeswax would be harvested.
I couldn't wear gloves inside, as the
Honey could be very sticky so I would
be stung 10 or more times, on the
back of my hands until they looked
like Mickey Mouse hands, fat and puffy.
I would finish up, change my clothes
then go to the bus garage to drive
the afternoon bus, #16 and head to
the grade school, and high school.
You did what could to bring in money.
I would also have some sweet Honey.
Great times to remember most of all
especially when we are heading towards
the beautiful Fall.

The drum beats loudly in my mind
As my blood pressure, begins to climb.
Take your Meds the Drs. say
If you want to see another day.
All the pills I take, every one,
Will not keep this life, as I am done.
I believe in a life after death
Will start with my last breath.

Sometimes you see
A hanging basket
Flowers dangling free.

One of the BEST parts of my job is all the amazing people I get to meet — like Mari Peterson.

I'll be flying with this lady again tomorrow and I can't wait. She's a total rockstar and an amazing human.

Refuel the light
that burns within
this chest of mine.
Recall the hopes of yesterday.
The dreams we had,
plans we made.
Push forth the love,
professed to all.
Be better than
those days before.
Love one another,
for those who do;
they are just like
me and you.