We took a car load of stuff to my family (granddaughters and son) in Maine. It was great going home again. I’ve missed them immensely with all the stuff happening. My doctors were adamant about me being quarantined with all the tests. Fine, we made it through the first batch. I have a little bit before they begin again, and hopefully everything will be fine. No everything will be fine. I refuse to think otherwise. Letter c, I will not let you win.

It was interesting going to dinner with the two oldest granddaughters and having margaritas. I’ve had wine with the oldest granddaughter last year when she visited at a restaurant in NYC. It felt awkward at first to me. Most grandparents don’t ever see themselves drinking with the grandchildren. But this time was with both girls at a Mexican restaurant near them named El Rodeo.

I chuckled because when I visit my Navy son we usually go to El Rodeo by where he lives. Both make exceptionally good margaritas. The food is good but not five star like the drinks.

The girls and I enjoyed our dining and drinking experience while Vic patiently endured. Three women together and drinking, it is hard to get a word in. Vic graciously drove their inebriated selves home and then took us back to the hotel.

Not having my gallbladder has made drinking interesting though, I have less of a tolerance for consumption than before the surgery. Or maybe my liver is more sensitive now. Who knows. Not that I drink heavily or even daily but I do enjoy the occasional indulgence.

Anyway, the lime margaritas were wicked good while I had them but they soon departed, making quite the mess all over me inside the car. Nope, I didn’t even make it to the room. Nor did Vic get angry at me. I’m so lucky to have such an awesome husband.

Luckily, no headache or leftover reactions once I did reject the margaritas. I was surprised that I didn’t have the reflux I’ve been cursed with since this all began. I’m really curious about that since my food was spicy too.

My granddaughters found that quite amusing. Needless to say… they laughed a lot. It was a memorable night and hopefully, we’ll have many more but this Grandma will probably skip the alcohol. Although, I did have a drink with my son two nights later and no consequences but that drink was very weak compared to El Rodeo’s. We’ll see, I know better than to say never.

It was simply awesome not thinking about my health just enjoying good conversation with my loved ones. No politics, no religion, no health, or death conversations. It’s been a very long time since that has happened especially since Johnny’s passing.

I did hear the chimes ringing at your Dad’s Johnny. Annie has puppies, you would have been so excited. Dad’s okay. Mom’s getting another tribute for you on her truck in pink since the moose destroyed the other one. Yup, Mom’s truck collided with a moose. Truck survived the moose didn’t.

Oh yeah, Debbie got a bear up in the Forks. She was quite pleased. Your Dad and Debbie are going to have matching bear skin rugs. Dad was beaming telling us all about it especially telling Deb it was only a short way to the bear when it was a lot longer. But you know how your Dad is, he enjoys yanking people’s chains. He always did yours. You were missed immensely. It’s hard to believe your birthday is just nine days away. You would have been 15, nagging for a learner’s permit and working on the truck you bought non-stop. We love you, Johnny so much. No, it doesn’t get easier with out you. The pain is always with us. I saw your sisters, they miss you too.

I was sad to see so many of the trees missing their leaves. I was looking forward to the colorful leaves but Mother Nature had other plans. She came through with sixty mile hour gusts and knocked a lot of the leaves off the trees.

Eddie Van Halen passed away today. He lost his battle with the letter c. He wasn’t Hendrix but he was good. I loved what he could do with his instrument. I decided to write a tribute poem using his song titles.

silenced guitar strings strum
damn stillness shatters my ears right now
in a pitter patter array
running with the devil
spread out like dirty movies
that once mourned sinners swing

silenced guitar strings strum
a vibrating whisper why can’t this be love
finish what ya started
fore they make it about a
little guitar or drop dead legs.

silenced guitar strings strum
in a simple rhyme, Pretty woman… I’ll wait
for the ice cream man… eruption
dances the night away in atomic punk
until death, really got him in a house of pain

RIP in Eddie Van Halen

On a happier note, I was notified one of my poems was published today in Black Poppy Review.

https://blackpoppyreview.blogspot.com/

The Old Barn by Lyn Crain

A weathered, crumbling, old two storied barn on the edge of town

barely noticed. It was one of many buildings all run down.

Two old posts hold a rusty old chain with what was left of a sign

next to the road, a grove of overgrown, neglected black pine.

Only one night of the year, there is evidence something evil goes on.

Even the old owl is silent, hidden in the pine, patiently waiting for dawn.

The few towns’ people left lock their doors, put down their shades

covering their ears until the screeches of agonizing pain fade.

In the morning light, the elders look for survivors of the demon fest.

The lucky ones still able to moan will be medically assessed.

The undertaker will deliver the dead, to the graveyard

waiting for elders to begin a mournful service of fond regard.

The owl howls at closing, grateful to be among that survived.

Until next year, all will avoid the old barn where the demons reside.

Lyn Crain is a published poet who prefers darker poetry. She hopes to publish a Halloween anthology. You can follow her on https://lyncrain.com/