brenda's thoughts, watch out I'm Christian

"Autumn came in my window

And kissed me on the cheek.

I awoke to the cool embrace,

Of an old friend

So I wrapped myself in the quilted warm memories

Of autumn."

With my head full of CS Lewis and having obtained a good night's sleep I reached the wood before sunrise and putting on my wadding boots walked in below the waterline.

A breeze ran through the tops of the trees sending leaves down all around me like confetti, "Hooray, the first day of autumn is here!"

The ground at me feet was crumbly and soft. Small insects flew up at my step while over head large spiders knit the trees together, sometimes creating walls through which I would not pass. Under the water mark the trunks, roots and branches took on new shape, becoming twisted and warped like the screaming bodies in a Salvador Dali painting. Tannic streams like tears from the tormented trees trickled past my feet. I was inside a fish bowl and it was a curious place to be.

CS Lewis wrote an entire book on finding joy. Where he found his is not where I find mine and not likely where you find yours.

Again the leaves fell like confetti.

I can't help but laugh. I must have been quite a spectacle out there, marching boldly through the half-dried swamp in my tall, dark boots, waving a stick before me like a sword, listening to the whistle as it sliced through air and web, and muttering endlessly like an undmedicated escapee. A regular ‘Bubba Quixote'!

Still the leaves fell like confetti.

An extreme number of snake encounters recently left me disillusioned with my ability to cope in this environment. I was determined to face my fears. I plunged in headstrong as always. It was exhilarating. Deeper I went, continuing my trek until I found my boots caked in slime, my hair covered in cobweb and sincerely wondering how anyone couldn't love this wonderful, fascinating habitat. As if to express joy at my return two raccoons appeared on the opposite bank clawing up the mud for clams and crayfish. I sighed.

I'm perched on a bank,

Leaves dot every surface like debris after a party

The woods are still now

And I linger like the hostess after her guest have left.

If you're interrested in my poems go to www.poetry.com and look for brenda l sapp.

 An Ecclesiastical Nightmare!

My biggest adventure this week was finding gasoline at $2.19 a gallon, which was actually pretty cool, budgeting my last $3.09 and managing laundry while grading papers.

I miss my previous bohemian lifestyle. There was a magical freedom in trekking through the woods un-showered, in dirty clothes when the rest of the world is suited up, anxiously gulping morning brew, punching in and logging on.

For the last several weeks I've been tripping over the ruts other people call daily routine because I refuse to fall into them. I need to just jump in and go with the flow; at least it would make the work run smoother.

But I long for the creek that runs under the railway trestle, where graffiti is the morning news, train comings and goings are the only schedules that have to be attended to and gurgles and swirls of muddy water are carefully studied. I want to climb over the gate where the no trespassing signs are nailed, wade across the stream where snakes and gators lurk and wander endlessly through the protected wetland.

I briefly entertained the idea that there is something honorable in complying with the ... but I couldn't even get the thought completely written before disagreeing with myself. Picture the word ‘responsible' being spit-up in my mouth.

Excuse me while I stomp my feet and pout, "I won't grow up and you can't make me!"

Oh yes, I have now been without sleeping pills for four weeks, after using them for a little over five years. Yeah for me! Could there be a correlation between the lack of pills and my recent tantrum... maybe!

Each day the kids celebrate with a different theme at the school. I ask, "What was today?" My son says, "Geek day, its like a national holiday for me!"

He goes to class wearing his Darth Vader mask. The teacher says, "Take it off or I'll write you up." My son says, in his best Darth Vader impression, "The power to write me up is nothing in comparison to the power to the force." The teacher chuckles but makes him take it off.

Dude asks, (This is my pet name for him. I used to call him doodlebug.) "Why do teachers assume that I'm asleep just because my head's on my desk?" I say, "Dude! Why is your head on your desk?" Dude says, "I can't lift it. My brain is too heavy."

My son says, "Don't freak out or make a big deal of it but I've noticed a pattern. Every time I really need it, I pray and it works. Every time I pray it works out for me. It happens every time."

My son says, "I love you mom."

My doctor says, "You need to find something that makes you laugh and makes you feel better about yourself."

I say, "Meet my son."