CAROLYN'S COMPOSITIONS

December 26, 2014

The Mysterious Christmas Gift

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE MYSTERIOUS CHRISTMAS GIFT

NOTE: This article is being reposted due to a major error on the first posting. I apologize for the mishap. Carolyn

As I drank my morning coffee my eyes glanced over to the bookcase across the room, to a post office envelope sitting on the shelf, partially hidden by an a red poinsetta and an 8 x 10 picture of myself as a child in my mother’s arms, before my father beat and choked my her, almost killing her. That the picture frame had a cracked glass was appropriate, symbolic of the broken family that resulted from my father’s final attack on my mother, who was aided by a woman’s shelter in reframing a life without violence.

The envelope was addressed to the United Way of Westmoreland County in Southwestern Pennsylvania. Janelle, a friend of my neighbor, was taking the envelope and mailing it in a community unknown to me. The intent was to prevent the envelope being traced to me.

As I listened to my favorite Christmas carol, Adeste Fideles, I reflected on the envelope and the strange circumstances in which its contents came to me.

Ten days previously I’d been at a party where Santa Claus was a special guest. I couldn’t discover who this jolly old man was, and with so many men impersonating Santa this white-bearded white-haired gentleman wearing the traditional red costume it was (more…)

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December 25, 2014

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE MYSTERIOUS CHRISTMAS GIFT

The Mysterious Christmas Gift

As I drank my morning coffee my eyes glanced over to the bookcase across the room, to a post office envelope sitting on the shelf, partially hidden by an a red poinsetta and an 8 x 10 picture of myself as a child in my mother’s arms, before my father beat and choked my her, almost killing her. That the picture frame had a cracked glass was appropriate, symbolic of the broken family that resulted from my father’s final attack on my mother, who was aided by a woman’s shelter in reframing a life without violence.

The envelope was addressed to the United Way of Westmoreland County in Southwestern Pennsylvania. Janelle, a friend of my neighbor, was taking the envelope and mailing it in a community unknown to me. The intent was to (continue reading at The Mysterious Christmas Gift —which is being reposted because I neglected to title the post—I apologize for the inconvenience).

February 13, 2014

News Bulletin: Kudzu Blackout!

 

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

Movicon2-happy

Hug for Linda

KUDZU BLACKOUT!

Our nation is experiencing numerous blackouts due to the 2014 winter storms. In fact, there are currently severe weather warnings in Atlanta due to an expected ice storm, for which I’ve heard there might be up to 1 1/2 inches of ice which is expected to cause blackouts.

It’s been shown that 9 months after such blackouts there is an increase in the number of babies born.

Winter storm aren’t the only danger causing blackouts in the south. Read on…

Our family lived in Stone Mountain, Georgia (an   Atlanta suburb) for three years in the 1980s. I was sole proprietor of a   craft etc. company and wrote a booklet about a prolific southern plant,   KUDZU, to accompany the craft line. Below are excerpts.

—NEWS   BULLETIN!—

The   southeastern section of the United States must prepare for sudden irregular   population spurts in future years. These spurts will coincide with   unpredictably timed energy blackouts. Women are being forewarned to prepare  for these blackouts so as to prevent mini-population booms, which would occur   predictably nine months following each blackout.

Although   the causes of the projected blackouts might be increased energy demands,   electrical storms, power plant break-downs, etc., the major culprit is   expected to be Puerraria Lobata, AKA the (more…)

May 10, 2012

The Key

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE KEY

Leef, Guest Contributor

NOTE: Leef is my “Big Sister.”

This piece was published in Buffalo, New York’s, 1960 city-wide publication, Our Best in ’60, the year Leef graduated from Kensington High School. She was honors English class, and turned it in as an assignment. She didn’t know the piece was to be published until September 15th that year, which happened to be her birthday.

“I remembered sitting in the kitchen and Mom handed me an envelope,” she said. “I said ‘Oh, I didn’t order this.’ Then I looked in the table of contents and saw my name…”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

     She sat alone by the window, her hands loosely folded. Her face held the look of one resigned to her fate, whatever and however horrible it might be. She was alone, as I said, except for the thoughts locked away in her mind. She laughed softly to herself. How stupid they all were! She would never tell. She couldn’t. She wasn’t going to remember.

            The door to her room slowly and mysteriously seemed to open of its own accord. They were coming! She steeled herself for whatever was to happen. They didn’t scare her. They were lies—all of them lies. That man in his immaculate uniform. He said he was a friend. He wanted to help. She laughed again. She knew what he wanted. Secrets, secrets she would never tell!

            The man came toward her and laid a hand softly on her arm. She shrank back. “No!” her mind cried out. She knew she was growing hysterical. She tried to stop the tears from coming, but she couldn’t. When she turned around again, he was (more…)

March 31, 2011

The Origin of April Fool’s Day

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE ORIGIN OF APRIL FOOL’S DAY

Cochran Cornell, the Cantankerous Cockroach,

 contributed to this post

     As I recall, way back in time, the unicorn (I’ll call him Sanno) refused to board Noah’s Ark. Sanno was having too much fun bouncing about in the waves of the coming flood. His black, gold, and red horn bobbed up and down through the waves as he splashed, and was splashed, becoming more energetic as the waves increased in size.

     His joy was so great that he didn’t hear Noah’s last call. Noah reached a point of desperation, having to decide whether to sail on, leaving Sanno behind, or to try to rescue him. However, Sanno, swimming about, had swum so far from the ark that Noah realized, finally, that no matter what, he  couldn’t save Sanno, so he sadly sailed on, saving the other animals for future generations.

     Sanno didn’t realize he was missing the boat as he continued to dive in and out of the waves, nary a care in the world. What fun! That is, until he saw a giant wave moving towards him. Suddenly, he realized he might be endangered. He looked about for Noah’s Ark, but all he could see was a speck in the distance. Was that the Ark? It was impossible to tell.

     It didn’t matter. Sanno couldn’t get to the Ark, nor could he avoid the huge wave, one unlike he had ever imagined. It rolled upon him, over him, lifting him higher than he’d ever experienced before. He looked up—he was riding the top of it, and could see for miles! And all he saw was (more…)

July 22, 2009

The Cat with the Calico Tail

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE CAT WITH THE CALICO TAIL

      Repeatedly I’m asked why the wooden cat sitting on my windowsill is painted so silly, having a gray and orange striped tail attached to its all-white body. A few years ago my artistic niece Debbie painted the craft item for me, using our cat as a model.

     Shenan (short for Shenandoah) joined our family in August, 1985. Her creation-day tale explains the incongruousness of her body and tail.

     You see, Shenan began on the kitten-makin’ (more…)

February 23, 2009

Route 30: A Review of John Putch’s Movie

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

ROUTE 30: A Review of John Putch’s Movie

      This afternoon a friend and I attended a movie that had great raves. Attendance at the local Ligonier Theater, which I’ve heard has poor movie attendance, was almost SRO. I splurged (diet-wise) with hot buttered popcorn and settled in for an afternoon of enjoyment.
     Within the first five minutes, I was disappointed. I guess I didn’t expect (more…)

October 4, 2008

TRUE CONFESSIONS OF A GLASS

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS
TRUE CONFESSIONS OF A GLASS
     Perhaps everyone remembers their first writing that was published. In perusing my files, I came across mine—which I’d forgotten! I was a student at Erie County Technical Institute in Williamsville, New York, majoring in medical laboratory technology.
     Although I was good at English I didn’t see myself in a writing career—which officially began in 1990, after I’d married and raised my family. The piece below was written for a class, and the professor asked me  if it could be published in the school newspaper, the Institooter. It was printed on April 26, 1963.   Carolyn
True Confessions of a Glass
     “Everyone said we were too young, wait until your 21…but our lips met at 18.”
I am a glass—not just any kind of glass, but a special type. And if I had any choice, I would have picked myself a different career. Let me tell you about myself.
     I was born in the same manner as any glass, packed for delivery and taken to my destination. Alas, since I am a glass, I had no choice.
     After a bouncy, bumpy ride in the back of a dark truck, I arrived at my new home to serve the people to the best of my ability. For two days my glassmates and I were allowed to rest and ponder our futures.
     Then we were unpacked and set on a (more…)

August 16, 2008

RAINBOW’S END Conclusion

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS
RAINBOW’S END Conclusion

To read previous segments click on: RAINBOW’S END Part 1 &  RAINBOW’S END Part 2 & RAINBOW’S END Part 3

     Rushing Waters tipped his cup, lightly sipping its contents. As his pain abated, he laid back, thinking about several European men whose spirit, like his, was moved by Mountain-Laurel.

     In 1749 he’d met Peter Kalm, from a country named Sweden across the big waters. Peter favored (more…)

August 13, 2008

RAINBOW’S END Part 3

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

RAINBOW’S END Part 3

To read previous parts of Rainbow’s End click: RAINBOW’S END Part 1 and/or RAINBOW’S END Part 2

     He separated from the others, who continued their journey without him. He could follow the rough path later. Lowering himself onto soft pine needles, he saw a stunning stand of Mountain-Laurel under a nearby canopy of maple leaves. He sipped a small cup of weak tea to sooth his body, sore from the trek. Refreshed, he lit his pipe before symbolically depositing his pain in the thick, unpassable Mountain-Laurel branches and inhaling hope from the slight scent of a myriad of blossoms. Watching the smoke swirl upwards, he saw visions (more…)

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