I erroneously went to the conference yesterday, all gussied up in my best clothes.
The conference was well attended. Perhaps 70 people in the big room at the Willow Grove Giant.
Two women behind me were from Hedwig House. I'm on their mailing list. They have loads of funders. They'd never heard of New Directions.
At the end of the meeting I got up and announced, My name is Ruth Deming and I run New Directions Support Group for people with depression, bipolar disorder and their loved ones. Remember our name in case you wanna refer anyone to us.
We save lives!
Am now sipping on the coffee from the conference. I heated it up in my copper frying pan, helping clean it out.
As we sat upstairs in the huge conference room we heard a loud PWISH, which meant it was pouring outside. I had brought a hat to cover my head.
If you double click on this pic, you'll see some lovely pants Ada bought me from Chico's.
The sweater is from Hatboro's Sweater Mill.
Every time I closed my eyes during the soporific conference, I was afraid I'd fall out of my chair.
As you know, I'm no shrinking violet but I couldn't find anyone to talk to, except Judy Dyke, whose son Eric has spoken and demonstrated yoga at New Directions.
All heads were buried in their iPhones.
Today, April 26, is ARBOR DAY!
The NY Times suggested we write a poem about our favorite tree.
Scuse me as I go offstage a moment, think, and return with a freshly made poem.
THE LAST MAPLE
When I moved in
thirty years ago
three maples with
stunningly green
leaves waved to me
every morning from
my kitchen.
Off to work I'd go
to Bristol Bensalem
Human Services, closed
down, they said,
for Medicare fraud,
but who really knows.
What I do know is how
I loved those trees.
Rough bark the squirrels
would shimmy up
and build their nests
on the top most branches.
Everything has a lifespan.
One by one, the trees died
from the inside out.
Did they know?
Does a tree have awareness?
Of course they do!
How about my new roof, installed
by Bob's Home Improvement?
That's something I must ponder.
Welcome to the new world!
Chirp chirp chirp go the baby sparrows
in the pink birdhouse out front.
Talk about diversity!
I love sharing my world
with feathers soft as my red couch.
Nice poem to pay tribute to your trees. We have lost a number of our old trees on our property and it always makes me sad, as well as a lot poorer. Who knew trees cost so much to maintain or to get rid of when they succumb to whatever ailments claim them.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry you went on the wrong day initially. My younger son has almost done that but now he has it all programmed into his electronic calendar on his phone, with alerts and everything.